Critique Thread? Critique thread!

>>9079873

Not a part of anything just an excercise in writing a setting.

http://pastebin.com/RjCXAJWr

Will drop some crit for the next few posters

i was diddly-doo'ing
in my
diddly-doo

now my diddly
hoo
is covered in diddly-
boo

jillary billary
billary boo

jillary jillary
hillary who?

r8 pls

rickity bickity
bickity boo

theres only one fag in this thread
and that one is you

>>9080232
>>9080254
>>9080276

jillary one is hands down the goat out of all three

>theres only one fag in this thread
and that one is you

I know it messes with the the flow a bit but

>theres only one fag in this thread
and that is you

just works better for me

A SECRET LIFE
A WONDERFUL LIFE
WHERE IS MY WIFE?

>>9080286
OP here, can confirm

How's this for a short story

A soldier in Vietnam who has come to hate his country murders a comerade whose tour was almost over, and switches identities with him. Thereby faking his own death and stealing the dead soldier's ticket home.

And the story is written from the perspective of him telling his 20 something grandkid in the 90's, confessing for the first time.

>>9079873
no

>>9080647

Can he be named Seymour Skinner?

>>9080288
>A SECRET LIFE
>A WONDERFUL LIFE
>WHERE IS MY WONDERFUL WIFE?
>AND HER SECRET KNIFE?

this is not my beautiful house...

>>9080647
Did he spend his years after the war working in advertising on Madison Avenue, drinking heavily and racking up divorces, before creating the greatest television ad of all time?

>>9080647
M a d
e
n

All things are nothing to me, so said the Buddha.

The universe is my will, said Anon

>>9080647
reallylike it anon

Paramedics drape their backs
in black lead capes in crowds
where a human crush injured
the scores of kind, gasping for
straws that extend to the sky
where Zeus' tears pour into clouds
and the star stings heedlessly
the calloused skin of concrete
and canopy of downtrodden lilies
withered from the sulphuric soil
spread across the buttered toast
falling in unison with the dice
cast from a broken blind arm
connected at the hip to nothing
but a belt of glimmering bulbs
rattling at every nudge of the wind
intoxicated with yesterday's reminders
of a tomorrow unavailable and unmet,
and so we twirl bedraggled and smiling
in corrosive heaven's unboiled wax
to gleam for a seconds glory
and melt back into the cracks in the floor.

I am a woman

I am always admired for my beauty,
But never for my intelligence,
I am always applauded for my expertise in house chores,
But never for my expertise in a professional career,
I am always expected to raise my kids,
But never to raise my voice.

I am a woman

I deserve to be a wrestler,
I deserve to be a lead actor,
I deserve to be a racer,
I deserve to be a DJ,
I deserve to be a pilot,
I- deserve to be the woman I, want to be.

I am a woman

I am just like your father,
I am just like your brother,
I am just like your uncle,
I am just like-that male stranger.

I am a woman

File: Untitled.png (6KB, 677x147px) Image search: [Google]

6KB, 677x147px

I wrote pic related about a year ago. I don't remember writing it.d

>>9085078
10/10 if this is satire

[1/2]

When she was eight Bella's art class at school had done a pottery segment. Everybody was to learn to work with clay and make at least one presentable piece. The clay came in hard, damp bricks and needed to be softened with water. Too little water and the clay dried and cracked when she tried to mold it. Too much and it turned into a silky brown soup.

Bella had liked pottery. It let her concentrate on something. The complexity was refreshing because at last in art there was a real solution to the problem that their teacher had given them. In painting any arrangement of paint on canvas could be seen as an artwork. A lonely splotch of red in the center of a canvas was just as valid as an exhaustively painted landscape. Pottery was different. The clay had to be mixed properly. The mixed clay had to be kneaded and rolled so that the air bubbles inside were forced out. It had to be done right.

Bella had made a swan. It wasn’t very pretty, but she had liked the way the bird reared its head up at the sky, as if rejecting the notion that it had to be staring down into the water it was presumably sat upon, searching for its own reflection.

Most of the others had made dishes and pots and bowls. Simple little constructions pocked with imperfections. They worked briefly and gave into distraction before long. They pelted each other with bits of clay and drove the teacher wild.

In the middle of that Bellwether worked on her swan.

At the end of the day the teacher had taken their pieces and set them in a kiln, a heavy ceramic lined octagonal beast that looked something like a Brutalist pressure cooker. He had asked for everyone to double check their work before handing it in to be baked.

Air bubbles in particular were to be ironed out. Bella especially remembered her teacher saying that. A bubble inside of a lump of clay was like a grenade. It expanded when subjected to heat, pushing upon the surrounding clay until it all exploded.

[2/2]

Bella had looked over her swan with exquisite care. Her classmates had turned their work in and gone, happy and speckled with clay, to their next class. She had watched the tray of dishes and bowls and plates and one proud swan be lowered into the kiln. The lid had been locked down, and an orange button pressed.

That night Bella tugged stray slivers of dried clay from her hair and daydreamed about her swan. She was proud of what she had made. It wasn’t like the shaky paintings or hesitant drawings she had turned in previously. This was a physical object, three dimensional and real, entirely hers. It stood head and shoulders over the disinterested works of her classmates.

She could already see the spot it would occupy on top of her dresser.

She had practically skipped into class the next day. The kiln was cool and silent, the lid opened up and the teacher looking in, head cocked.

“Remember what I said about checking for air bubbles?” He asked sternly, eyeing his students, and reached with one hand into the kiln.

Out came one shattered half of a clay plate, knobby and rippled, like a worn record. Bella stared.

Out came a chipped bowl, its edge nicked by some flying projectile. Bella edged closer, hesitantly, like the heroine of a gothic horror novel about to peer into the casket of a vampire.

Out came a clumsy attempt at a goblet, heavy stem exploded, the bottom of its bowl gone entirely. Bella put her hands on the edge of the kiln and stood on the tips of her toes, just barely able to see down into the bottom of the kiln.

Down, strewn across the white ceramic plates they’d been baked on, lay the ruins of the class’ work. Bowls had blown apart, plates had buckled and cracked, cups and pots and heavy, blunt clay knives had splintered apart and sagged into themselves.

And…in the center of it all, like the deposed regent of some war torn kingdom, sat her swan. Decapitated.

The teacher handed it silently over. Bella regarded her poor maimed bird for a horrible moment, then burst into tears and ran from the room.

She sought refuge in the girl’s restroom, in one of the stalls, and sat in its dim confines, cradling the wrecked remains of her swan. Its sides were pitted by shrapnel, neck terminating in a jagged stump. If she hadn’t already known what it was supposed to be then Bella would have been hard pressed to assign a name to the battered hunk of baked clay she held in her hands.

She had worked so hard on it. She had molded the clay, added the right amount of water, carefully sculpted her swan and etched feathers into its sides. It had been looking up into the sky, expecting great things.

And now it was ruined.

Bella clutched the swan to her chest, shaking with silent tears. With growing anger. She had done everything right. She had worked so hard. Why was it that her work had to be ruined because of the negligence of others?

That night the spot she’d set aside on her dresser remained bare.

>>9085949
Whoops. It would appear that 'Bella' auto-corrected into something else entirely. And as per usual I did not catch it until it was already posted.

omebody once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead

Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow

Pajeet my friend,
Pajeet, Apu,
Pajeet can you
Poo in the loo?

Do you know where its at?
Do you know what it do?
Not in the road,
Poo in the loo!

I know it's hard
But it's true
I implore you, Pajeet
Please, Poo in the Loo.

Why are so many selfish cunts posting their shit but not giving crit?

>>9085995
throw enough shit at the wall and some of it will stick, esp. if it's diarrhea, but not if it's those 8.6-couric solid bricks

>>9080647
SIMPSONS DID IT, SIMPSONS DID IT

>>9086077
You say this like it matters.

>>9085949

USE PASTEBIN YOU INSUFFERABLE CUNT

>>9085962

STOP CLOGGING THE THREAD WITH THIS SHIT FUCKING WALL OF TEXT THAT COULD EASILY BE A LINK AND OF FUCKING COURSE YOU DON'T GIVE ANY CRIT YOURSELF DO YOU

>>9085963

THIS NOTE WAS SOOO FUCKING NECESSARY AS THOUGH ANYONE IS GOING TO BOTHER READING THIS SPRAWLING EYE SORE. "as per usual" who. the fuck.do you think you are.

fuck you don't post here again

>>9085966
Kek

>>9080647
Can confirm has already been done in the plot of The Dear Hunter's story in their rock opera. In particular, it's done in act three. But I believe that was during WW2 and not Vietnam.

Among the many worlds drifting in the spectral sea, there is one whose neverending legends outlast time itself. A world of champions of good and evil, of victories as well as defeats...
but most of all: of magic and adventure
Rhim is its name, and this, but one of its stories:

Let me tell you the days of high adventure!

This is a failure of a thread.

>>9086729
this

>>9080179
>http://pastebin.com/RjCXAJWr

I liked your choice of words to describe the spatial aspects of the scene, but I had a hard time following the sequence of events. You use a few time indicators for description that are somewhat confusing.
I really love the idea of this as a mystical, somewhat archaeological project for the scholar, sets the tone well, even if the concept is somewhat cliche

and since nobody else is worth critiquing here is something I've been working on:
http://pastebin.com/zbpwL3ty

>>9084027
and blinked thereby

>>9086957
It's above this thread's dismal baseline. So, there's that.

You are going for a coming of age, finding maturity, discovering wisdom and developing masculinity kind of thing, and I know this because you hit me on the nose with it several times.

The surrogation of dad's dialog to the reader can only operate if the reader identifies with the son, which I am not sure I do. And not for lack of any requisite. My great uncle handed me a .22 when I was nine and told me he'd give me a quarter for every groundhog I brought him dead. He explained the concept of "shot picture" one time, let me shoot an empty bleach bottle, and set me along with ten rounds. I made $2 that day. Greatest day ever.

But and so. At this far remove from the Nick Adams stories, a straight through-line approach, even if perfectly executed, seems wanting when set against the complicated background of the current market. If I were attempting this, I would be thinking about devices that allow me to bring the exposition to life. Somehow.

For example, only to illustrate what I mean by device, the dad describes the rifle in terms of its flaws: "see that scratch on the stock? That's where I dropped her climbing over Baker's barb wire fence. See that ding by the chamber? Your grandpa tried to clear a jammed round with a screwdriver."

Some kind of narrative device that allows dad to convey the feel of history, rather than spelling out "this rifle runs deep," which, well.

The "laugh at their pain" school of parenting is also familiar and the black eye is a clever illustration. I would be seriously evaluating every line of dialog here against the test of whether it sounds like interesting and stylized speech, as compared perhaps to the dialog of a an after-school special. Loose versus tight, for example:

“Good,” He paused. “I want you to recognize that this is not just a weapon. I want you to start thinking about this thing as your companion. She’ll bring you food and protect you if you treat her well. Do you understand what I mean by this?”

“Good,” He paused. “Think of her as your companion. She’ll bring you food and protect you if you treat her well. You understand?”

I want to like them. Think about how many steps from field to table: find, stalk, shoot, retrieve, field clean, kitchen clean, food prep, cook, serve, eat. It's a development process.

This piece is somewhere between shoot and retrieve. Skin it. Soak it in milk to get the blood out. Carve it up and cook it.

>>9087036
Damn, thank you so much for the in depth critique. Appreciate it.
Also, I want to add that it is a work in progress, you probably know that, but I couldn't tell from your critique if you did.
Worth mentioning too that masculinity is probably the main focus of this, not necessarily how it develops but how it is transmitted and how it motivates, which I realize isn't very clear at this point

>>9087088
No

>>9088387
APPRECIATE IT

Here is something I wrote http://pastebin.com/2UGpR4mN

I'll (You) this message with some criticism of my own.

Criticize my writing here >>9088631

>>9085949

Not bad. Keep writing.

I think you need to work on your style/viewpoint though. On the one hand the prose is almost childishly simple, like all the sentences that start with Bella this and Bella that, on the other hand you have similes such as "like the heroine of a gothic horror novel about to peer into the casket of a vampire" and grown-up phrases like "exhaustively painted landscape". What you probably want to do, like most modern writers, is to stick to subjective 3rd person. In other words never phrase something in a way in which the character you are following wouldn't. Try to stick to only things Bella would notice and in describing them, words she would use.

Another thing you should probably do is to try to pull us more viscerally into your story. Things like passively saying "Bella had made a swan," and then explaining is it something you should have let us live through instead, from one moment to the next.

Though you show some flair for similes in particular, one description sticks out as much more "high-resolution" than any of the others. It's when you say, "That night Bella tugged stray slivers of dried clay from her hair and daydreamed about her swan." Her tugging dried clay from her hair is something that instantly creates so many images and gives us so much information about her. Try to do more of these exploding descriptions. As Anton Chekhov says, "Don't TELL me the light is shining, SHOW me the glint of light on a broken glass."

>>9088631
>excruciatingly
dropped. it's 2k17, we don't have time for adverbs. from the second sentence i knew the entire piece was gonna be full of fluff

>>9088895

In other words you would also have dropped Neil Gaiman, J. K. Rowling etc. after a few pages. Honestly I don't mind. You're clearly not my audience. Thanks for trying at least.

>>9088928

Wait, I think I just got trolled ... I mean even fucking Ian McEwan uses adverbs. The "no-adverb" thing is just some weird Stephen King OCD.

>>9088928
>gayman
>rowling
i legit can't tell if this nigga trollin or not

>>9088928
Who wouldn't drop those """""""""authors"""""""""?

>>9088928
>>>/r/eddit

>>9088895
>The first thing I did when I got my superpowers was to murder my fucking bitch of a best friend.
But "excruciatingly" is what made you drop it?

Also Tolstoi used adverbs all the time.

>>9088950
>>9088965
>>9089001

I don't really see the problem in asking for criticism for genre fiction intended to reach as many people as possible. And I've actually been on 4chan since like 2005. But whatever.

>obessed with an idea for over a year
>started writing it six months ago
>poured more passion and drive into than any story I've ever written before
>showed it to my parents
>they hated it
>took their input and built on it, re-writing the beginning four times to get it right
>finally build up the courage to show them again
>they still hate it

I don't know what to do anymore /sffg/ I don't know if I can keep writing if this my own parents tell me it's shit

>>9089066

Do your parents like the kind of movies, books, etc. you like? Show it to someone else.

>>9086957
>I occasionally stroke his back with my gloved hand, to which he unwaveringly responds with a short tail wag, and a chuff between breaths.

try

I occasionally stroke his back with my gloved hand, to which he responds with a wag of his tail and a chuff between breaths.

try to define where you do and don't need some of these one-two adjective combos (low, combusting roar - low, muffled, huff - sharp, penetrating pain - for example).

don't feel you have to include the dog 'replying with a muffled huff' (hufflepuff?) or whatever, I don't think it adds much and kind of interrupts the reveal of the jackrabbit.

don't say 'jackrabbit' again when the dog is carrying the 'mangled' corpse (carcass? I don't know these terms). we already know it's a jackrabbit. also, the dog trots back 'with enthusiasm' can probably be cut down. we know he's enthusiastic already, I posit.

'lifelessly and black' should read 'lifeless and black' in order to make sense, I believe

I like your dialogue and your careful use of tense. nicely done.

>>9088631
it's terrible. it doesn't make sense. seriously, I can't make sense of it. you need to read it from the perspective of someone who found it in the street and see just how impossible it is to decipher the run-on sentences and bizarre pacing. the other anon is also right, it's got way too much fluff. you're a great one to quote Chekhov on 'show, don't tell' when you cram fluff into every sentence you can. yikes.

>>9089066
do you like it? it's okay to be passionate about a project that doesn't work out well. that said, why not share it here? they do say six months is the usual timeframe for a good short story, so don't pretend that's some outrageously long time to have slaved away on it.


this is a piece I'm working on.

http://pastebin.com/5m7mkTTB

I'm posting it, but I dont know if this first part is enough to go off of

http://pastebin.com/QhWtLAWh

>>9089118
>they do say six months is the usual timeframe for a good short story, so don't pretend that's some outrageously long time to have slaved away on it.

I'm not pretending it's a brobdingnagian effort, but it's more times than I've ever spent on one story in my life. I normally don't have the attention span to do anything but what just barely qualifies as a short story. I do like it, otherwise I wouldn't stick with it this long, but I'm worried that even if I finish it it might be hated, or worse, unpublishable

I read your excerpt. it's well written and direct, but maybe a bit too so. The speech patterns make it seem like the narrator isn't comfortable with their english, but you obviously are.

>>9089082
My mom's taste is slightly similar, but she doesn't seem to like the settings I do. I have no idea what my dad reads, if anything

>>9088631
>"You witch!" I saw her bright red, little lips mouth. There was no sound as the pressure I was applying to her wind pipe with my flat hand held up a few feet away from her allowed none of the necessary air to pass. Hadn't we been over this phenomenon in biology just a few weeks ago?

This one paragraph is holding you back. it's jumbled and out of context the dialogue sounds oh-so-obviously censored. The addition of hard edge makes it all the more jarring, like saying someone is "a gosh darned cunt, god bless him"

>>9089118

Can you give an example of fluff? I've never gotten that before. I'd say my style is pretty concise ... I guess I can see some of the sentences being difficult and the pace unusual, but I didn't think it was that bad??

>>9089255

Well in the first sentence we're told a murder is at stake. In the second paragraph you learn that her best friend is slow and that one of the good things of this is that she stays the longest in the wardrobe ... and at that we're back in the action, she's murdering her. Is that what's confusing people? And anyway that character simply isn't the type to swear, even if the narrator is.

>>9089272

And the significance of her being the last in wardrobe is of course that the main character gets to be with her alone to do what she's doing ...

>>9080179
>http://pastebin.com/RjCXAJWr
this is beautiful, and quite honestly, it might have given me an idea for how to re-write the beginning of my story one more time

>>9089255
>he had a hunch it had something to do with those astrology books she always spent her money on (or was it astronomy?)
I like this. dunno if it was your intention, but from this I intuit not only his passion for his daughter and her interests, but also an inevitable, all too human disjunction between their inner-worlds, a disjunction for which one symptom is his lack of certainty what *exactly* it is that his daughter is interested in. Yet, despite the persistent, unpassable gap between their inner worlds doesn't prevent him at all from caring for her.

>but the whump and ruffle of toppled paper stacks was certainly a new one. With a sigh he opened the door, and found the room in complete disarray.
>The carpet was littered with scratch papers and charts, bare patches were stained deep with dribbles of ink.
Nice. Setting up mystery and the Big Question. This keeps a reader's interest.

>“Eve,” he chided, “you're fifteen. What could possibly make you think it's okay to be drawing on the walls like this?”
>...
>“Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost to fix?”
I read into this Angelo's first flaw: overshadowing his care for his daughter is the presence of social conditioning, the need to punish and shape the young impressionable mind of the child which is still absolutely free, in a Kierkegaardian sense, where the imagination is still soaring with possibilty -- makes me feel a little tragic, honestly, knowing that with fatherly love comes a freedom-constricting grip as well. Keep this dynamic up.

>He saw her biting her lip and sighed. Fatherhood was a different job from rum-running, he reminded himself, sometimes it was just better to let things be.
Ahh, second guessing himself, coming dialectically to a better decision. Keep these character-inner-doubt dynamics up. It reflects the human condition, and I like that. It's these little things.

>Her depth perception flattened, then stretch once again in a direction distinct from the ones most were aware of.
Nice imagery, but the second half takes a little bit more effort to decipher, which is not bad in and of itself -- it's just that it's out of place. Where you've got easy, fluid prose with nothing intentionally challenging, there comes up this rogue phrasing anomaly. Only a slight bump. But enough to notice. It's mainly "a direction distinct from the ones most were aware of". That's my problem phrase. I get too much of a technical vibe from the phrasing.

>She followed the traces to a dusty rail yard lit by ropy signal lights from days past
I'm not entirely sure what 'ropy signal lights' would look like? I've never seen that word used that way, and can't imagine how it could, either.

>Bevitore thought took it in for a moment and then started thinking out loud.
Just a typo: "thought took".

>>9089733

>cont.

>She admired the weaving path the patty wagon took as it careened off into the distance driven by a majestic and smelly-looking hobo, a new bottle of gin clutched in one dirty hand.
Nice, tight little description, each word loud enough to do a little bit more than its quota. Keep this formula up when evoking images, and you should be fine.

__

That first section ends nicely, on a little minor tragic note, the father leaving with priorities unfortunately higher than his own family. Could illuminate the dilemma of the laboring individual, here.

Overall, nice. Has a touching note you could draw out. The only criticism I can think to give right now is that I wish there were more instances of those tight descriptive lines like the one I greentexted about the hobo speeding off in the cop car. There's a lot of things packed into the one sentence. comparitively, all the other lines lack something of its compressed flair. Does that even make sense? I can only use abstractions, because I'm shit. Words fail my mind most of the time.

I will now post my own content.

File: z-7d8905254bd32800eff7de34ebc6816b.jpg (26KB, 300x302px) Image search: [Google]

26KB, 300x302px

>>9089733
>>9089752
Now, here's mine.
>http://pastebin.com/QhW3Tz8g

I'm >>9088631

I've been writing for years and usually people have good things to say about my story, so I'm really wondering what I messed up here.

The beginning may have been a little bit too abrupt so I've tried to fix it a little as well as trying to make the rest of the story easier to read http://pastebin.com/MwDM4AEZ

Since I wonder if that could have anything to do with the negative reception, I also want to warn that this is shameless, childish genre fiction. It's also in the first person, attempted written in the voice of an extremely obnoxious character.

>>9089560

Thanks a lot. glad you enjoyed it. Care to elaborate on the idea it gave you ?

>>9086957
>http://pastebin.com/QhWtLAWh
Don't be afraid to use said. Flow could be a little better - some semicolons were a little awkward, and you switched tenses in the middle. Nice little vignette, though.

Here's something of mine. A small intro - I have about 25 pages of this story outlined and written, but hey, here's the first few hundred words

http://pastebin.com/4iG69MCj

Should I stop writing? Wrote this weeks ago. My first short story.

http://pastebin.com/21Ym1HS3

>>9091079
Thats a lot of fucking commas and semi colons

Wrote this a couple days ago right after sadwanking my jimmy to the remembrance of a beautiful girl I see in the bus every week. Just in case some of you understand Spanish.

Contémplote en el bus todos los martes
Desde hace dos semanas; y te juro
Que cada martes mi dolor maduro
Y cultivo como el resto de mis artes,

Las cuales, hace ya unas dos semanas,
Estériles tornaron, y sospecho
Que aquellas tus verdugas y tiranas
Miradas, aquel tu exultante pecho,

Son quienes me castraron de talentos.
Pues mi genio, sublime y diligente
Antes de que llegaran los tormentos

Que hicieran tal despojo de mi mente,
Era jardín; es hoy yermo sin cuento
Que cría sólo cuanto a ti te miente.

>>9091079

Here, try this one. It is better organized now.

http://pastebin.com/Ffr27BVR

>>9090550
My fantasy story starts off a little boring and I was thinking about doing it in media res but I couldn't decide where to start. You gave me the idea to start the story by simply describing a compelling and mystical environment: a labyrinth of subway tunnels where the walls between worlds are as thin as those of a cheap motel. the heroine walking through can hear the sounds of a dozen other times and places, and one of those is the opening scene of the story

>>9091982

nice

>>9091134
Read this. It's short enough. Read it now.

http://www.eldritchpress.org/ac/jr/147.htm

I do not care about length. Given 100 words or more, the greats can do just about anything.

What I care about is why I care about any of it.

Why is Varka there? He shows us.
Why is Varka miserable? He shows us.
Why won't the baby shut up? He shows us.
What is the attitude of the shopkeepers toward Varka? He shows us.
Why do they hold that attitude? It's in there.

The explanations for the action and motives and agencies and agents and settings - it's all in there. We /get/ why Varka kills the baby. We /get/ what it feels like to be an oppressed indentured servant denied a basic human requirement of life who becomes deranged by dint of abuse, and who, free of criminal malice aforethought, commits a homicide.

Because there is just enough, and not one smidge too much or too little context for us to get it.

Get it?

Now look at yours again. Why? How? For what reason? What does it tell us?

"Sleepy" tells me: 19th century Russia consisted mostly of a pious and ignorant peasantry who held human life in variable value based on status, and who, following from their flawed world view, were capable of inflicting brutal cruelty, often resulting in exactly the kind of tragic backfire they most feared. Kicker - the conclusion at which these people, as shown, are least likely ever to arrive is that they brought the tragedy on themselves.

Why does the last line describe Varka's sleep as "of the dead?"

>Because when she next wakes up, it will be for the last time before the Big Sleep.

Now go try again.

>>9089924
you're showing the wrong people. if you want to write for kids then show kids.

>>9092334
No

File: railcity.png (439KB, 734x1268px) Image search: [Google]

439KB, 734x1268px

>>9084536
Surprised no one has responded to this, it seems pretty decent. You have a pretty unique writing style, lots of interesting references and clever vocabulary. I liked it.

>>9085949
Is Bella's swan a Twilight reference? I think the plot of this story is good, interesting reference. I agree with the other guy that responded though that sometimes the prose is clunky.

> Why was it that her work had to be ruined because of the negligence of others?

But there are some other lines that are really good. I think it just needs a little revision.

>>9091134

>was unusual and famous for its insipid architecture; as old as it looked, it was astoundingly creepy,
>He was at least 6 feet tall; he had a pale complexion; and as the
>Yousuf was his leverage, his support; people would laud this kid
>The olds came and paid their homage to the child and wept; their tears froze in the snowy winter.

Why are you using semicolons so weirdly? All of these could be periods or commas. Overuse of semicolons makes writing flow very awkwardly.

The story is an interesting idea but it felt like there was not really enough buildup to make me really enjoy it.

Pic related is my writing, pls crit. I'm really just trying to learn at this point.

File: Screen Shot 2017-02-11 at 11.52.40 PM.png (48KB, 335x394px) Image search: [Google]

48KB, 335x394px

>>9089066
why would you care what they think about your writing? especially since you said your dad doesnt read
>>9084536
interesting. I guess the lack of punctuation is intentional?

some1 r8 mine

>>9093800
It was more my mom, My dad more just confirmed it.

My mom is the kind of person who praises my creations no matter how shitty they are. Whenever I cook a shitty tasteless meal she tells me it's good. Whenever I doodle something that looks like an autistic 13-year-old on deviantart she tells me it's great. If she tells me she doesn't like something I made, it means to me that it was so shitty she couldn't even lie about it

>>9093584
>>9092334
If he's writing childrens books he should be showing it to parents

>>9079873
>Someone buy me EU4 and I'll host
>Supporting Paradox and their shitty business practices
Just pirate it anon really.

>>9093864
maybe she just doesnt get it, man

>>9093900
But I don't know if anyone else will either

>>9093800
1. 'Comely' is an adjective, but you seem to be attempting to use it as an adverb. I suggest you change it.

2. Some of it seems pretty meaningless to me and should be scrapped - "her words were like feathers / her actions like daggers". Also it's very unclear who or what you are referring to there. The Sun? Some unnamed person? A lack of clarity is often a way of covering up some insecurity about what you've written.

3. "I shed but a single tear" is a line that should not appear in any poem except, perhaps, a pastiche of bad poetry. Drop it.

4. There are, however, two lines I rather like: "The eastern seaboard shouts back to the men on the deck" (consider getting rid of that last 'the' - spoils the rhythm). Also: "beneath a spot where the Sun never threatens to set". Remember: the image, the thrilling combination of words - these are what make good poetry.

Keep working at it.

>>9093949
thanks, I really appreciate this

poem is about a grill

>>9093965
No problem

I had died or so I thought before I knew there was no death. In the corporeal world there is much said about death almost none of which is true. In the previous world, bereft, I shot myself in the head and "died" quickly only to awake in this place which I can only assume is hell or some ill conceived purgatory.

That's the first paragraph of what I'm working on.

>>9094040
this reminds me of something david foster wallace wrote about college students "trying a bit too hard is all" in the broom of the system.

File: HIHKpKd.jpg (26KB, 640x350px) Image search: [Google]

26KB, 640x350px

>>9089760
Reposting, since it got buried.
>http://pastebin.com/QhW3Tz8g

File: original.jpg (2MB, 4154x2893px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 4154x2893px

I posted a while ago when I'd only done 1 or 2 paragraphs. I've written another, and now I've got ~150 words to end it. I'm planning to finish it with him crying over his dead father, but I'm not sure if that would be too abrupt.

I'm aiming to capture the feeling of rural England in the 18/19th century, and have had images such as pic related in my mind as I've been writing.

http://pastebin.com/MbWR2DFg

>>9080179
Personally I felt this was too description heavy, felt like a chore having to read about how everything in the scene looked, and the descriptions themselves felt basic and YA-like at parts.

I like the scenario though, feels quite dreamlike and vague, reminds me of Keats in a way.

>>9089760
Didn't read it all sorry, but really enjoyed the first few paragraphs. Felt fresh and modern without sounding pretentious and cheap, although I don't like the use of words such as 'millennial' - makes it feel like I'm reading a 4chan post at points.

Overall, 8/10.

>>9091079
>http://pastebin.com/21Ym1HS3

I have literally no idea what's going on lad.

>>9094818

Gave yours a read and it's pretty clear to see that's in a first draft. Which isn't a snide comment or anything, just that there's a lot of good stuff in their that I'm sure you'll be able to polish out ( I'll point some examples out in a bit). Other than that, I like the way you set the scene it's paints a good picture and the concept is good too.

Anyway here's a few small things that I'm sure you'll noticed when redrafting it but I might as well point them out before hand

>crumbling edition of the King James Bible
>a crumbling King James Bible

you repeat it twice in the same paragraph, there's really no need to list it with the rest of the inheritance since you've already said that.

paragraph 7. It's just a lot of

>John Y
>John X
> John Z

Also I fully understand if this is a stylistic choice and if so you can ignore this but, I did find the long Faulkner-esqe sentences rather unpleasant to read. Idk call me a pleb fag but when I'm reading i like to take a piece of information and then have brief interlude of (.) to quickly digest it before moving on.

Hope this helps and be sure to post a redraft, i'll look forward to reading it.

>>9095316
Thanks for the tips, hadn't spotted the repetition of 'crumbling' so I'll take that out quickly.

I can see where you're coming from with the overbearing focus on John, I'll see if I can thin it out a bit.

The entire thing is supposed to be replicating a style of writing, and at the moment I'm trying to reflect Gogol's style. That's the main reason for the long sentences, bracketed sentences and other little bits here and there, so mainly it is entirely stylistic.

Thanks for the help anon

>don't reply to people who don't critique

Everyone better put on a trip then, or this threads going downhill fast.

>>9094326
Care to elaborate?

Are you saying its too... Uh I'm not sure what you mean.

>EU4
>not literally any other Paradox game

http://pastebin.com/WYpZB4db

>>9094818
I'm not from England, so it's hard for me to conjure the hills. I can see the snow clearly, but not at all what the snow covers.
>>9094040
I need an image to grasp onto. It's an OK hook and States the problem pretty clearly, but try to do it with a visual image. Like a cocoon frozen by winter or some shit

>>9084536
Whoa, pretty cool. Think there's more poem there?

>>9085949
>when she was eight
Start us in the present with a scene. Starting where we're not is no fun.

>had liked
Uck yeah because of this. If you MUST start here, put us fully in the scene.

I do like the rest of the scene. The image of the swan..
.>>9085962
This is really cool. It sets her up as a character, and I'm interested to see the broader conflict. But, setting it in a memory is HArD.

Forgive me my past transgressions,
my heart was not used to love.
Now my mind is filled with questions,
of what I was once part of.

Will my humor ever recover?
and restore it's former lively state.
Or will I in this darkness take cover,
and to heartbreak capitulate.

I hope I can pick up the pieces,
and try to find love again.
Hopefully my spirit increases,
and my love of life, I will retain.

>>9096711
>Will my humor ever recover?
>and restore it's former lively state.
I dont like the second line

maybe take out "lively"

the rest is good, I really liked it personally

>>9096711
It sounds like a mix between a bad love song and a bad love poem written by someone who has never read contemporary poetry

>>9096733
Thanks, other edits of the same poem have:
>Will my heart ever recover?
>and restore its former youthful state.
But idk, seems kind of banal.

Oh Death
Wont you come to me now
That I might feel your cold breath
That I might look upon your face
And weep.

Oh Remission
Wont you take from me this toil
That I might close these sanguine eyes
And lay bare the ebbing soul
I keep.

Oh God
Wrest from me this burden
Old and inherent of men mortal
Debride me of this body and let
Me sleep.

>>9096131
Thanks anon, I'm >>9084536 and now that you mention it, I think you're right, there might be more to add.

>>9093734
Much appreciated

>>9093800
Clear and simple, quite nice. My only suggestion would be to change line 3, I don't feel those adjectives add as much as they could, esp. considering 'shouts' are *generally* speaking somewhat angry

>>9093734
I like the basic premise of your piece, though I think you could be more economical with your language. "They were the ones for the job" doesn't add much information nor does "tracks never intersected" for that's merely an implied fact about locomotive infrastructure (unless you're referring to track convergence which is often necessary). And I have a question about the allegory: is it a self-describing analogy? As in, is the poem itself Rail City? If so, it's definitely an interesting conceit, and one I can definitely relate to.

Anyway, here's one of mine. Hope you enjoy

The young wanderer drops
a stone into the anthill
and watches it burst
into flames, silent noise,
then ambles on through
the foliage, leaving the field
for the forest. Another passes
and eyes a stray emmet
whirling about salty earth—
a helping hand falls
from the sky, bearing ground
on which to latch, and
suddenly a city of family
emerges from the horizon
to welcome the lost traveller
home again.

Vanitas: the last remnant
of a sunken archipelago
far-off in the Pacific.
It's silhouette:
a camel's back to ancient sailors,
a football to the doves,
space to rats.
On it one man resides covered in banana leaves
and salt and sand and sun
and the recollection of footprints
long washed away by the now-quiet surf,
the doorstep to his backyard,
the edge of the largest world he knows.
For centuries he fishes, builds, burns,
smiling with his friends, the dots in the dark,
until one day of chill
he walks under a coconut tree
and stops walking
and marries the earth.

>>9080276
no, it's definitely you.

>>9080647
What's supposed to be the takeaway from this?

Do you have any experience with war that you think will give you insight into it?

My mom told me
that I'm one-of-a-kind-of
and that my face
is truly handsome,
"a beautiful face."
As I grew, the world shrunk
and grew uglier, inhospitable,
the closet cracked open at night.
My reflection smiled less,
and questions stopped being answered,
all while the tingling turned terrible
and my heart worked overtime.
"Why don't you ever call your mother?"
my mother asks, and asks.
"Sorry, I've just been really busy"
learning how to lie to keep the bottle afloat
(the one with a model ship in it
and the idea of treasure).
Then I'm in the shower
and the teleprompter in my mind flashes
with the word's of great men
talking about themselves
in the second person
and I realize
the red light's off
and the drain's clogged
and the soap's broken
and I want it to be quick
before I'm dry again.

>>9084536
Whoa this is good. Same atmosphere I get from good neofolk, which is derivative of modernism but hey. I'd end it on "corrosive heaven's unboiled wax".

>>9080647
Jon hamm should play the main character in the movie adaptation

>>9085349
jesus christ does everybody on this board have Tourette's? why is there so much stuff like this every thread?

>>9089066
what do they hate about it?

>>9098040
nobody ever find it funny yet they keep posting them; it's like when we try to write books and people keep submitting chapters made entirely of the word "nigger". It really makes you think

>>9098055
my mom just doesn't like the plot, I don't know about my dad. I don't know what's wrong with it, you tell me >>9089255

File: 1485731008678.jpg (40KB, 600x515px) Image search: [Google]

40KB, 600x515px

The Suburban civic lives of this greater college town, including but not limited to those of: petty-administrators, cross-sectional Academics, duplex graduate-refuse, stepping stoned service-industry workers, Federal regulators, media-representatives, et ceteras, hinge on the singular hope that our revised Media Fairness Doctrine is the end- all solution to racial misrepresentation on the screen. It’s not. I snuck into the cine-complex on Sunday nights, for over a year, pencil and tablet concealed beneath my glue-on orthodox-Jew beard, and tallied actor’s ethnicities against their casting in key-controversial roles: law enforcement officer, urban youth, drug-addict, CEO, irredeemable racist----and found, via Sam’s higher level forensic derandomization, that the generator Metro-Goldwyn-mayer studios Inc. implemented in “Legally Blonde IV”, and “Speediver” among others, was fundamentally inferior. And it's not surprising, really, because the interpretive ambiguity of MFD’s ‘Randomization’, is essentially just carte-blanche for corporations like MGM to use, like, irrational numbers, instead of atmospheric noise.
What these Suburbanites can’t possibly know as they consume and their so-called benign media--- magazines, tv-shows, even radio revival is subject, whatever, is that their complacency is fattening. They’ve lost the vigilance that so typified early century political life, and they have allowed creeping structures of privilege to reenter social-unconsciousness. Truly, they deserve more than the Soft Measures.

In the elevator, I folded the pistol in the economist, and told him to sever the index and ring fingers at the third joint. We took the bits and put them in sammy’s steve madden shoebox, lined it with cotton, and drew little stick figures in party hats, little stick figures dancing and smoking from a big communal bong, stick figures eating pizza, drinking fruit punch, copulating, or otherwise sampling the finer debauch-type pleasures...l

Later, at the YMCA, (membership “disported by the few, the proud”, said my dad once, in half-time as he cooked in the singles-sauna, well anesthetized off a combination of ketamine and muscle relaxers) we waded out with the box on a paddleboard, until our feet could barely touch the bottom and did the viking funeral business with a candle lighter. “Sometimes the old die young” said Sammy, wisely, as he watched the marker ink billow into the pool.

t was at this point, the sharks begin to circle.

File: 1485809291462.jpg (78KB, 400x400px) Image search: [Google]

78KB, 400x400px

On forty-five, I was watching this show about a brain in a vat that was given a frankenstein-ish body cobbled together from a bunch of corpses. Apparently it’s fully functional, because, there’s like a whole picaresque sub-plot involving this brain in a vat being real cavalier with his body and finances, fucking the finest, gold-plated escort-pieces, with wanton disregard for safety or emotional sensitivity. Like after he finishes, (plot-hole: genetic inheritance of a brain in a vat), he jumps off the bed, fully naked, like the sick sex- fiend he is, and runs across the hall to the next hotel-room.
At this point I heard my dad in the bathroom, trying to hang himself from our shower curtain rod with a toilet-chain. When I finally got back to the show, this brain was laying intensive care, his fishbowl hooked up to all kinds of electrodes, a team of white coated observers, looking on, clicking their tongues against the roofs of their mouths,
Regretfully, but also somewhat reproachfully, telling his stiff upper-lipped entourage:
“It was just a mild case of crab-louse that spread to the inclosure of his bowl”
“and drowned in his cerebrospinal fluid”
“...We think it caused the infection”
“It is our opinion that it definitely caused the infection”
The last shot is a slow-zoom into the bowl. Little black specks orbit the brain like dying star, the doctor pulls a sheet up, and the picture fades to black.

I was like: what the fuck?

Curious cretins pierce their ears
and rub animal fat on their cheeks
forgetting themselves like broken wood chairs
forgetting being trees in forests evergreen.
And a doctor somewhere prescribes antibiotics
to a child named Frances with the flu,
then Frances and Mom die in a car crash
and press restart, while Daryl grabs the chips.
"When did you get that?" Sheila asks in Greek.
"I don't speak spanish," sings Daryl in the sheets.
Then the rosacea cheeked flow of frenulum piercers
roll onto the horizon like a breath from God's father
in an antarctic blizzard braved by penguins
and researchers from a Lovecraftian alternate
version of this banana heap we call surreality—
'we' being no one or two in particular.
My Cheerios have become too soggy
and so I must flee again
before they come to take my children:
pixels on the window.

>>9096711
>it's
Dropped. You lose a reader for every stupid mistake like this

>>9098321
pistols can be folded?

>>9098334
no, just stupid readers

the other anon's 'past transgressions' are seemingly not limited to typos, the poem's just bad anon. pls don't blame it on his/her punctuational slips, bc that's pedantic af

>>9098309
Word salad, not very engaging. Cut out some adjectives.

>>9098343
I agree that the poem is shit, but i have every intention of being a grammar nazi. If you can't be bothered to learn the rules of language then i wont be convinced you deserve to write, etc

>>9098019
I like your idea, all the way up to the the ship in a bottle metaphor, especially when compared against the teleprompter. Its like what era do you come from? Which is important for me when i try to feel out a coherence. The ending is pretty cryptic, and I'm not going to assume that I dont understand it because I'm an idiot, rather than you taking a step too far up your own ass. Also, I really enjoy how it sounds near the end. The broken soap, sounds a little weak though.
Think the best part of this is how it sounds, and how almost nothing sticks in my throat, on first readthrough.

>>9098357
but ur on 4chan an0n

this isnt harpers

u shuldn't prioritze absolute grammatical precision over content

its p. spergy to do so

n plz lrn 2 b mor tolerant towrds inevitable human mistakes

>>9098398
I appreciate your thoughts—! Forealsies.

As for the ending, here's a loose explanation:

red light = rec. light on camera w/ teleprompter
broken soap = inability to clean oneself
quick..dry again = (v. poorly executed but) in troubled waters, hopes to be grounded soon

it sounds pretty bad now that I've put words to it, so I think you're right about being too far up my cornhole. will exit asap

wake up fin, wake up -
said the lady with the dark dress on hat
wake up fin, wake up
he saw that miserable neck!
-oh sir, would you please give me your hand? I have a pen and wish to be your new friend - oh no, oh no, said the sir on the street im in hurry and have a woman to meet;

wake up fin, wake up -
said the lady with the dark dress on hat
wake up fin, wake up
he saw that miserable neck
-oh sir, would you please give me your hand?
I have a pen and wish to be your new friend
- oh no, oh no, said the sir on the street
im in hurry and have a woman to meet;

tic tic tic
Have you seen those ladies
growing out of the trees,
and what about those sad
and lonely boys?
I see they crying on
the corners of life /

We all should have listened
to the abyssal
oracle of rottened
towers.
Have you seen his dress?
filled with rocks and
bones,
spelling the last words
that we could imagine,
like frozen dolls or dry
tomatoes.

Look with attention to his
shakiness,
the first image was
his naked and fallen body
at the sky/

What if we could eat
mountains or
persons, and then
grow with the flashes
of the sun?

>>9085078

this is rly funny good 1

>>9096711

this is cute but kinda corny

me:

Its so nice while it lasts
Even sitting outside in the cold
Inhaling my pipe
Waiting to be overtaken
And crushed by something
An extraterrestrial, a closing space that i keep shrinking in

I am made of iron
I do not need to eat
But I frequently have the munchies
So I spend a lot of money on food and sulk afterwards
WIth cinnamon sugar on my hands and mouth

At home I am mesmerized by the colors on my computer screen
To the point that i am in a trance
Forgetting how to focus and putting my work to the side
I spend all of my free time feeling guilty
But A Seraph burns in my chest to light my spirit
For a few hours
Every Sunday at night
I perform my weekly ritual

>>9098348
its gonna be boring because its a boring subject but here's maybe less adjective, qualifier filled

"The civic life of this whole college town, hinges on the belief that our revised Media Fairness Doctrine is the solution to racial misrepresentation onscreen. It’s not.

I snuck into the cine-complex on Sunday nights for a year, pencil and tablet concealed in my glue-on orthodox-Jew beard, and tallied actor’s ethnicities against their castings in key roles: law enforcement officers, urban youths, drug-addicts, CEOs---- and I found, via Sam’s forensics, that the randomization generator Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios Inc. implemented at least beginning with “Legally Blonde IV”, was definitely inferior. It's not surprising, either since the interpretive ambiguity of MFD’s ‘Randomization’, is really just carte-blanche for corporations like MGM to use, like, irrational numbers, instead of atmospheric noise.

What these townies don't know while they consume their so called benign-media, is that their complacency is fattening. They’ve lost the vigilance that typified early century civic life, and they’ve allowed creeping structures of privilege to reenter social-unconsciousness. They really deserve more than the Soft Measures. "

>>9098460
Its funny because there was a big red light that tinted everything in my friends' bathroom that I got high in a lot during highschool, so thats where my mind went

Thanatos left his bounty with the brethren
of El Dorado. The sky spewed drops of fire
as they gathered in limbo and sang
salty tunes from yesteryear's bosom
bound in a cumber-bun sewn by fate's sisters
in a crowed train station dreamt by the beggar.
But the rain didn't stop when the dance ended,
the motion of hands moved waves to shore
despite the pleas heard by enwombed men
borne of dispassionate lore.
And the staggered syncopated pitch of the heaven's
broke out in a cackling cry once more
'fore the rabble decided to be
something greater than nought at core.

Today I read the last book
in my three story library
so I hired a team of movers
to evacuate the inked wood pulp
to my ranch in El Paso
where I stacked the books
into a one story high pile
and drenched them with kerosene
then left them their in the Texas sun
hoping a spark would settle
and populate its new home
as water did the sea.

Is this transition too abrupt?

A passage followed the note, and as Eve settled into the motion of the train she began to read and take it in.

>It is generally agreed upon by scholars of theoretical zoology that dragons as a whole are intemperate and hungersome creatures. As with all species there is a degree of variation in the population, and while many examples have shown exemplary dietary restraint the inverse is a very real and ever-present danger.

>When an errant star spirit is driven to self-destruction by its own unrestrained hunger, the loss of self control can lead to an act of complete autocannibalism, resulting in the creation of an entity known as a basilisk, an embodiment of abject gluttony.

>The digestive topology of a basilisk has never been observed by man or beast, due in part to the basilisk's habit of consuming even the light that dares to approach it. Mathematical abstractions have likewise fallen flat, leading many a frustrated geometrist to conclude that the universe itself censors the unseemly nature of their existence.

>Any ordinary basilisk born will consume its own world in short order, and from thence on they will float for eons through the vacuum of space until, at last, they have finished digesting themselves and evaporate. Basilisk Flies, on the other hand, are quite another matter. The basilisks born of dragonflies – whom the Prussians call Kugelblitze – are confined quantities, far less destructive than their greater kin. Because of their small size they soon digest themselves in a matter of years, and can eat no more then a nest of termites in the same span. One may be found in every park and forest in North America, though only one as soon enough they will all eventually consume each other.

>Legend has it Manhattoes tribes of what is today Nieuw Amsterdam held these beings in particular awe. Before a shaman could be initiated into their role among the Indian peoples, their final test would be to descend into the woodlands with no food or water, and come back only when they had captured one inside a jar.

Eve continued to read on about the habits of the basilisk fly, and when that entry was completed she read several dozen more. By the time the train rolled to a stop at the Medial Park Station, Eve had nearly forgotten why she was on the train in the first place

>>9098483
I have no idea wha you're trying to express but your poem has an odd rhythm to it. I hear the ticking in my head the whole time and why the voice doesn't synch up it's got a certain harmony. Maybe it's intended to be more surreal, but a flash of clarity would be appreciated

>>9098468
>said the lady with the dark dress on hat
>he saw that miserable neck

it's okay, these lines dont fit, nor does the rhyme at the end. keep at it

>>9098516
not bad, but some redundant use of language. eg. "mesmerized...in a trance." Mesmerization basically implies entrancement, there's definitely some room to tighten up the language

>>9099000
their to *there and this shit's good

fancy digits btw

>>9098019

i like this a lot rly resonated with me

"Why?"
Said the fat angel dying.
"For a new world".
Said the Duchess.
Thinking about a novel to write, is this intro, intriguing?

>>9082087
My god, what have I done?

bump for visibility

>>9096131
R8 plz

File: 1459036090819.jpg (19KB, 500x359px) Image search: [Google]

19KB, 500x359px

>>9098516
I really like this actually. I think this is a common feeling that you've rendered quite poetically - for that reason, I'd be inclined to lose the word 'munchies', I think we get the idea that you're stoned without it and every time I read it I giggle but in a distracted way not in a good way. Like it feels strange to have "seraph" and "munchies" in the same poem - I can imagine a circumstance where it would work but I'm just not vibing with it here. Also the last two lines feeling a little cliche. I'd be keen to read more poetry like this on similar topics though.

Mine:

The pair spoke every day for two years and, though Dot had come unwittingly to assume something of an authority over Conrad's emotive soul, the whole time the two never dated. Details of each other's meals, snippets of strange conversations eavesdropped on long train rides, stresses and stressors relayed accompanied often with corresponding emoticon - each moment of each day translating itself into an endless string of text messages: emphatic and consistent, yet bereft of tone, nuance or voice.

Conrad grew so accustomed to these rituals that what started as a casual friendship quickly catapulted into romantic obsession. Indeed, when Dot's face - with its broad white smile and alabaster white skin - wasn't blinking before him on a phone screen during the day it was dancing instead daintily behind his closed eyelids at night. Yet as his obsession grew more involved, casual conversation too turned quickly dark and malignant. Almost each hour of each day Conrad pined over Dot like a dog at an empty bowl. Whenever she missed a message or left an unusually long pause between conversation, despair would chew at his gut until he felt sick.

If one were to peer into the relationship from a distance, making note of how often they texted, how deep their conversations delved, how emphatic their goodbyes seemed, one might easily mistake the two for doted lovers. In fact, this was a mistake made by many of Conrad’s friends. But it was, indeed, a mistake and this platonic devotion made Conrad feel at once exalted and pathetic.

He felt a strong desire to cut off communication, feeling on his back the creeping prongs of embarrassment, and yet he found himself unable to do any such thing. He felt committed to this virtual exchange, as though a young lover rushed into an early marriage. Yet he reaped no emotive catharsis from the arrangement. No physical contact, no reciprocated affection. As if faced by a killer and holding a gun, squeezing the trigger only to find it unloaded.

>>9099323
NO

http://pastebin.com/MXyEAbTg
beginning of a short story, heavy don delillo influence

>>9089760
didnt read the whole thing but this is good. your prose is urgent and well-crafted.
>>9091134
far too stunted. it doesnt flow at all and quickly becomes tiring to read. use less punctuation.
>>9096131
good prose here, id like to see this expanded.
>>9098309
far too wordy and as a result doesnt flow well.

>>9099896
I have 15000 words. Gonna kindle that shit when I hit 30000 which bit Is you?

>>9099911
what

>>9099915
DIDNT see the pastebin, sorry coming off of rum cake, drinking too much coffee to make up for it.

I think that what you've written so far starts before the story begins. You can get into your anxiety about your car after. Show us the valley. Maybe a scene where you're experiencing the hum at an hour where there probably shouldn't be a hum

File: IMG_0776.jpg (76KB, 564x813px) Image search: [Google]

76KB, 564x813px

>>9099925
Also I wrote private detective chapter. Want to crit chapter 2? I've gotta sk8 home right now, but I can get more in depth on your story when I'm home

>>9099925
>I think that what you've written so far starts before the story begins.
yeah i actually have an opening paragraph on a friends computer and i didnt want to rewrite it, im gonna grab it tomorrow hopefully.
>>9099934
sure

>crit for crit, anyone?

http://pastebin.com/afizHK9r

>>9099975
Crit someone first faggot.

>>9099950
Chapter 2 http://pastebin.com/pWWpWrvi

>>9099896
It's tricky without the actual opening line. Because of that, it's hard for me to tell what sort of story this is. Up until the (beautiful) image of the tree, it seems like it should be some realistic fiction. But the tree makes me think that this could be a piece of horror! The tree is where I start getting really interested. If it isn't realistic fiction, Unless the protagonist's financial instability comes into play later, I might drop it entirely. I can see it being sort of cool with like, "this hum is a symbol of the connection to the larger world," and he's like connected to the world through his car and he's worried about losing it.

Start with an image. It's the best way. I think that perhaps having the protagonist looking out the window and looking at the mist shrouded area where the tree is might be effective.

What are you hoping to accomplish with this story?

>>9099999
nice

>>9099975
WOrd, dis me

>>9096131 >>9099999

Anyway, your piece also starts before the story does. Delete this

>>His curiosity for the more illicit side of technology ended up toying with his lesser temptations, so
And begin with
>later that week,

Minor change, but you can tease out his attitudes about technology. The cigarette bit is a great bit of character building.

>weaved
Wove? I dunno. Weaved sounds weird

>> He enjoyed the cigarette and, feeling satisfied with the ritual, ashed the remains atop the potted plant on display outside the automatic doors before entering through them.

Potted plant in the winter. This is a great time to talk about the protagonist symbolically. Is it a plastic plant, something which was never alive? Is it a whithered husk, beaten down by winter? Or did the snow just fall, plant still alive, but it can't last.

Have a beat where he considers grabbing a cart or whatever and decides not to.

>>The next day, he could be heard coughing through the walls from the apartments both below and above him. They could also hear the sex. His girlfriend was now visiting.

This is odd. We're so tightly bound to the protagonists perspective, and suddenly we're out of the room. You could flip this story around, make it so it's all about how people see him, but it'd take some serious twisting.

>>This was said to be the best way to bring her to orgasm.

Awkward phrasing. "She insisted" maybe? "This was said" seems like it's the roommates who are hearing this. "He said that," maybe?


Is this a self contained story? Or a fragment of a larger piece

>>9099990
Sure

>>9099896
This staggers in and out of clunkiness. Toward the end you find your pace and it smoothens out. I enjoyed it altogether, but the intro sentences (especially the third) need to be ironed out. The "who is not in transit" bit needs excision with the quickness, m'yout.
For whatever reason I feel like the tone and pacing would benefit from removing some of the self-referential stuff that can bog your writing down in wordiness. "they are only seen when I am at the window," can become "they're only seen from the window,". This feels more like more natural language to me and a generally more lifelike monologue.
The low hum bit is good, keep that as it is with the exception of "omnipresent", as well as "transient" at the end of the third line. "where vocation and vacation exist in parellel" hits harder, does it not?
The final paragraph is the best you've written. However, the same criticisms hold true here--"shall not be marred by what I see in the present" is horribly contrived even by horror/suspense standards...I'd go with something more like "as my memory shall not be clouded by my vision". Something like that. Make it move more naturally from the tongue. And it would anchor the segment with opening and closing lines referring to his vision.
What is the purpose for writing in his way? Is your protagonist supposed to come across like a sperg? You can write well enough to hold attention, but at some point I'd have to put this thing down because I can't identify with that narrator at all...it has that anachronistic neo-Victorian drawl to it...

>>9100039

Thanks, all good points. It's only a segment from a short story I started last night that I'm thinking of giving to my gf for Valentine's day since I'm a poorboi. The opening isn't written yet.

>>9100080
>>9100039

Forgot to ask: is that 'Fritz Lamphrey' post yours?

>>9100039
>>9100080

Returning the favour.

>raindrops are lit by the red neon signs which coil up the buildings

Coil? So these signs are winding up the buildings lengthwise? This gives the impression of a big-city red light district. You don't often see neon signs large enough to "coil".

I like where it goes in the following couple of sentences. Personally I'd remove the "so" that opens the paragraph and plant this before your introductory line. It sets the scene in a much more commanding way.

>kill someone's body

Why not just 'kill someone'.

>clenched fist

I don't believe dead bodies have the capacity to do this. Especially on impact deaths.

>I strike a match on the bare bone of my forehead.

This is strange

The dialogue that follows is good and suits the scene well.

What is this, surreal crime fiction?

>I walk up the street past Ronald's Tavern, through the unlit alleyway, walking, not running.

We already know you're walking

>I don't move my head as I track their movement.

You couple the negative with the positive, which I'm not terribly fond of. "My head still as I track their movement".

>bugging you. So to speak.

Don't like it

>She's manipulating me as an apology.

"She manipulates, apologetically". Maybe, "She purrs gently; manipulating apologetically".

>You can sleep here; just leave the window cracked for me.

Either excise the semi-colon or the "just".

>The only thing that's the same is that unless whoever smoked it was a drunk idiot,

Not a fan of this

So are these afterlife figures existing among the living unbeknownst to them? THat would be kind of cool.

Those discs really like to clatter/clink don't they?

>hold them up to my eye sockets

"I level them with my eyes"

>discs
>disks

gotta pick one


I like the City name.

I'm interested. I'd like to know more about the disks and their purpose in the story. Haven't quite clicked with any of the supporting characters, though.

>>9096131

Whoops, forgot to tag your post in my crit:

>>9100152

File: IMG_0778.jpg (527KB, 1319x1800px) Image search: [Google]

527KB, 1319x1800px

>>9100080
For Valentine's Day? Oh buddy. That's a way to lose her with the story you've written. Honestly, do a poem, cook her dinner.
>>9100088
YeH, gonna use Fritz Lamprey as a pen name. Maybe answer a bunch of occult questions on yahoo answers leading up to the release date. Putting them in one place.

>Chapter 1 http://pastebin.com/WYpZB4db
>Chapter 2 http://pastebin.com/pWWpWrvi

I feel like chapter 2 might be able to be split, especially if I expand the bit in the apartment

>>9100168
Hah, yeah I've already done poems. Having a hard time writing them at the moment so I decided on some short fiction. I figure I'll gamble on it, she already knows my internal processes pretty well and she tolerates it well. She'll be glad I wrote something.

>trench coat

Suddenly I'm getting cyberpunk vibes.

>I'll send a representative to speak with you with details

THis is probably a first draft and all but I'd be mindful of doubling up on the propositions "with" and "with" separated by only a word comes off kinda clunky in dialogue.

This isn't my genre so I don't have much to compare it to but it's a good start. I especially like the Saddam reference at the end. Consider my curiosity piqued.

>>9100189
May I suggest following the "ray Bradbury" method of story creation? Start out describing a scene, then write until characters wander in, then take your camera and follow them.

Is it clear that Gavin is a skellington by the end of the first chapter? He doesn't have eyes to hold the discks to

>>9100268

I was imagining something more like a zombie with loose flesh hanging from his bones. I probably wasn't reading close enough into the descriptions though.

File: NODONG-A_4.jpg (376KB, 1000x605px) Image search: [Google]

376KB, 1000x605px

>>9099975

the offer still stands. any1?

Bumping the story in >>9099138 because everyone's posting but nobody's critting

File: 1462306993176.jpg (1007KB, 1280x800px) Image search: [Google]

1007KB, 1280x800px

Here's a daily warm up I'm happy with. Still looking for tips though. I personally feel I might benefit from another passage detailing the overall position of the figure, but it isn't needed. It would only help visualizing mostly. Will critique others in my next post. Thanks in advance!

The tender stone figure before me was carved by careful hands into delicate curvatures accentuated by her statute form. A flowing sheet of marble drapes the figure's right shoulder and surfs along her breasts and back, gently settling into her lap and the basin she lies in. Gripping tight the rim of the hemisphere, the woman's left arm bends up against the inner wall. Her opposite hand and arm reach out to the very direction which she stares. Her eyes, disarming yet betrayed, are welled with tears beginning to stream along her cheek bones. Does she choose to stare so intently in my direction, her curled fingers slightly pointed to me as though expecting my hand slipped into hers? Once ahold of my hand, does she expect me to hold tight and pull her out? Or would she grip my hand firmly, attempting to pull me in?
Walking behind the figure, I look carefully to her hand gripping the basin's edge. The knuckles of her hand lock her forefingers to the outside of the lip as her thumb presses against the interior. As if she's not lifting herself out of the bowl but pushing herself in. And once behind the sculpture, the tears running her cheek can be seen down the back of her neck, her left shoulder and arm, and the basin wall, where the droplets have begun to pool and fill the bottom, covering the feet and buttocks of the woman.
Slowly I circle round the figure. Looking again to her stoic face I feel even more that her arm reaches to bring me in. For it is not my hand by which she desires to be rescued but my eyes, my being. I thoughtlessly reach to her hand as I stare into the blank eyes of the empty figure filling the basin. Shame grips me stone tight. And after grasping the hand for a moment, I pull my arm away and reach into the pocket of my jacket. Beginning to leave the statue, I take my phone out and dial a number before placing it to my ear. Glancing back to the sculpture, as the ringer chimes in my ear, I note the name of the piece before making my way out of the building: Amor Matris.

>>9100742

her statute form? Did she receive royal assent?

I don't know what you typically read but I'd suggest laying off the early modernists and Victorian era dramatists for a while and try something more contemporary. You need some life in that prose. I refuse to finish reading that as is.

>>9100918
Your critique is ironic, especially since you didn't finish reading the piece.

>>9101099

I didn't finish it because it isn't good. My suggestions stand.

>>9097864
Yeah, I agree that those lines are a little unnecessary. I think they were there for flow of the piece rather than actual content. I don't actually know that much about trains so maybe I need to read up on it a bit before a rewrite.

The allegory is actually fairly thin, at least when I started writing. There was this planned series of books that I saw online years ago called Rail City, and I came back to it recently and saw it completely unwritten. I thought the image of a planned city of rails was a good way to talk about how plans can turn to failure, and it all kind of came from there. It's self-describing, yes

I liked your poem, by the way. Not sure what to say specifically, but it's nice.

>>9100742
Okay, for starter's if you want an unbiased critique from people, you don't preface your passage with "I'm happy with" it—that only makes the reader question whether you're honestly asking for feedback or that you think you don't really need it or that you're merely showing off, either way it makes the reader want to find any fault available, such as the very fair one brought up by >>9100918. Did you mean 'statue'? Beyond that, the passage is riddled with unclear and unnecessary language: "tears beginning to stream along her cheek" are they streaming or not? because later on you mention that they're 'running,' which only obscures our mental image of her. "...number before placing it to my ear," obviously if you're dialing a number, it's assumed your'e gonna put it up to your ear because, you know, that's how phones typically work (unless specified otherwise, i.e. speakerphone). And if you're main goal is to describe this statue in comprehensively visualizable way as well as the narrator's emotional reaction to it, you do a pretty horrible job. I don't have a clear image of what she exactly looks like: you don't describe her face, color, actual pose, just a bunch of stuff about 'flowing sheets of marble' (a tunic? is it stone or marble? make up your mind), how delicately her curves are accentuated, and other obscure seemingly impertinent details about her 'intense' gaze and hand positioning. And more importantly, the narrator comes off as an absolute pretentious twat that only knows how to muddy water to make it seem deep. Instead of imagining some relatably profound emotive reaction to what I'm assuming is supposed to be an important piece of art, I imagine some leather satchel toting pseudointellectual hipster pretending to be enraptured by a nondescript statue of a woman. Also, you're not supposed to touch art in a museum, why the fuck does he grab her hand

>very direction

it's direction, anon, just direction. 'very' adds nothing to this.


If you don't want your daily 'warm-ups' to read like highfalutin navel-gazing, you should probably just stop trying so hard to turn your prose into a flower shop

>>9099661
>the whole time the two never dated
"The whole time" reads a little odd coming after all the text before it. Try just 'they never dated', it reads smoother.

>it was dancing instead daintily behind
"Instead" is clunky here and throws off the voice.
>If one were to peer into the relationship from a distance, making note of how often they texted, how deep their conversations delved, how emphatic their goodbyes seemed, one might easily mistake the two for doted lovers.
You need a ';' or an '-' somewhere in there to help sort the details a little clearer. Doted should dated, of course

>But it was, indeed, a mistake and this platonic devotion made Conrad feel at once exalted and pathetic.
Try: But it was indeed a mistake, and this platonic devotion...

>He felt a strong desire to cut off communication, feeling on his back the creeping prongs of embarrassment, and yet he found himself unable to do any such thing.
Try a period after embarrassment and start a new thought with the next line, it should help flow.

All in all this read well. You know what you're doing and that's why my points are simply stylistic. Your voice is strong and a few edits can really make it that much stronger.

>>9101173
Wow you have issues man. Don't take them out on me. I'm happy with it meant I'm not embarrassed to share it.
Take your meds

>>9101360
>wow you have issues man
>take your meds

I give you honest feedback, and you insult me. Interesting. I guess I was right, you didn't want feedback.

And for future reference, if you can't be a big boy and take potentially scathing constructive criticism maturely without aggressing or projecting onto critics, then don't post your writing to 4chan, m'kay. If you haven't noticed, people here can be kind of rude, much ruder than me

>>9101403
Nah. Again, you're putting words in my mouth. Did I say your critique was bad or wrong? All I said was you assumed my disposition and transisted an unbiased critique into a biased one. If you can't handle honesty, then I have a hard time accepting your 'honesty'.

>>9101414
>>9101403

>underage b&

File: RalphiesTheme.jpg (6KB, 275x183px) Image search: [Google]

6KB, 275x183px

>It's a Ralphie got a C- episode

>>9101414
Actually, you didn't say anything directly about my critique, or that I was "assuming your disposition." You said I have issues. You perceived my feedback as hostile. It wasn't, I was just telling you my genuine impression of your post. If it makes you feel better to think that I was personally attacking you rather than giving you good feedback you blatantly didn't want to hear, then that's your problem anon, but I'm not going to continue sitting here trying to convince you that 'no' I wasn't trying to merely insult you and 'yes' your writing is bad, because you're clearly comfortable in your intransigence.

Also: 'transisted' isn't a word. If you want to sound smart, then say smart things. You don't have to make words up.

And once more: not explicitly trying to be mean, it's just very frustrating when you take the time to give thoughtful feedback to someone, and then they tell you you have issues because some of the criticism was harsh. Bad writing merits harsh criticism. I was simply trying to help out a fellow writer, and was attacked for doing so. Grow some skin anon.

>>9101173
And man, I'm sorry, but half the shit you say doesn't make sense. I want to take your critique serious, I really do. But you can't visualize her pose? From that I can only assume my error is not describing it in an exact order, but every detail of her position is in there. And I even said that I could perhaps benefit from another passage describing her form, which the only other details I could give would be facial proportions and hair style. I already described her face as stoic with only her eyes bearing any emotion (disarming and betrayed). I'm not sure where you got her intense stare from, except for maybe you confused when I said he was staring.
Statute was used in it's archaic form to imply the age of the piece.
You're right, I was a little sloppy on the tear description. The tears can only be seen along her eyes and cheek (left) from the front, but when from the side you can see the tears running behind her, down her body and into the basin. But maybe it also made it harder for you because I'm purposely using active imagery to describe features of the statue? The narrator is bringing the piece to life in his mind.
Phones today are used more for other forms of communication than calling. Idk what else to say there, but I'll consider not needing to specify how its used.
Yes, I was hoping to paint a realistic enough image of the piece using only the narrators thoughts on it. I don't doubt I can do it better, but I believed I did alright. (It's not gonna piss you off again if I say that, is it?)
Marble is a type of stone. Dunno what else to say there.
The narrator isn't. The name of any artwork is displayed clearly. He knew from the beginning the name of the piece was Amor Matri. So at first he's picturing a goddess (mother earth), sprawled in the basin. I meant deeply to include the thought of "what could make a goddess weep?" being wondered by him. But as he study's the piece he realizes that it's a statement for all mothers, and not just a goddess. It's here that his disposition changes and he has an epiphany of his mother, causing him to call her and leave the museum, and hence why he touched the piece when he wasn't supposed to.
You're right, very is not needed.

And all I'm saying is if you want a little respect from your critique, maybe try prioritizing helpfulness over insults. Otherwise you aren't critiquing, you're mostly shitposting.

>>9101610
that's nice anon

keep up the writing!

File: 1439020814795.jpg (14KB, 222x300px) Image search: [Google]

14KB, 222x300px

One & All

I take a step,
a leap a bound
The first of many,
how profound

Sun brings play, snow brings presents
A time when I knew, or at least I knew they knew
My favourite this, my favourite that
Nothing is expected when everything is new

He sees

I kiss, I love, I lose
The laugh, the cry
If the world is mine
perhaps I may even try

Stub your toe no longer tears
for pain is greater once you feel
Thoughts of Venus, abyss divide, terrify
Stare and wait, and soon the kneel

He watches

I take a step,
a creep a crawl
Uncertainty looms
but on I trawl

Impatient to anxiously excited
dare I say now simply anxious?
Do it for them, but say it's for me
Once praised for being, now left so thankless

I see

More to say less to do
now that thinking's easier
What if? If only?
Would I have been happier?

Nothing's perfect, now I'm learning
Expect no big, build from small
This is the constant compromise of
bittersweet nostalgia times

I watch

I see the picture now
rough and ragged
no form or meaning
Finally equipped but unequipped

Head full, body empty
No time for shame or blaming
No time for much at all
Unexpectedly, more predictably,
The shifting sands herald him

We go

This is why we can't have nice things.

>>9101532
So yeah, I think I'm gonna add some general descriptors about the woman (her attractiveness, hair style, body type, general position in the basin) before the first paragraph to help. I think (hope) that'll fill in the gaps in the imagery later on since I skipped the generals and went right for the details. This whole passage wasn't really meant to specify the general apperence of the woman but the specific details which reveal the underlying image of the sculpture (as seen by the narrator). But idk, it's important to the idea that it's written like this. It's about art- the true essence of it. Not the importance of the specific piece or even so much the narrators personal revelations towards his mother. It's about how subtle details in a piece of art speak subtly to people. And I chose an old style of art (from the sculpture, to the style I wrote in) to make a statement about how modern art is overselling itself for originality and forgetting the simple acts of symbolism that reach deeper than hyper specific scenes on a very specific topic.
Any way, I'm venting- perks of no friends. I'll keep on working.

File: eyeem-100706315.jpg (199KB, 1300x866px) Image search: [Google]

199KB, 1300x866px

Heaven's in his hands alright, sullied with an expressionless glow. The flaps of his face catch the wind sometimes, and the smoke gets in his eyes. Donner kept the light on and he just sat there with the tobacco tube hanging between his lips. Get the hell up, old man. Nay, he couldn't. His legs gave up on him on the hill. That day he had his father's cap on, an impossible mess with two puffy eyes and a cherry on top.

gibs me critique

>>9102248
Tobacco tube bothers me, cigarette or cigarillo or cigar or bone or fag are fine depending on what you're trying to describe and how. Nay feels a little off, but it's not terrible. Does the hat have eyes or are those the kids eyes? I know it's the kids eyes, but it can be punctuated or worded a little better to make it that much clearer.

Otherwise it's fine. 8/10

>>9102056

So what is wrong with this thread?

>>9102248


It sounds pretty neat man

Is this transition too abrupt?

A passage followed the note, and as Eve settled into the motion of the train she began to read and take it in.

It is generally agreed upon by scholars of theoretical zoology that dragons as a whole are intemperate and hungersome creatures. As with all species there is a degree of variation in the population, and while many examples have shown exemplary dietary restraint the inverse is a very real and ever-present danger.

When an errant star spirit is driven to self-destruction by its own unrestrained hunger, the loss of self control can lead to an act of complete autocannibalism, resulting in the creation of an entity known as a basilisk, an embodiment of abject gluttony.

The digestive topology of a basilisk has never been observed by man or beast, due in part to the basilisk's habit of consuming even the light that dares to approach it. Mathematical abstractions have likewise fallen flat, leading many a frustrated geometrist to conclude that the universe itself censors the unseemly nature of their existence.

Any ordinary basilisk born will consume its own world in short order, and from thence on they will float for eons through the vacuum of space until, at last, they have finished digesting themselves and evaporate. Basilisk Flies, on the other hand, are quite another matter. The basilisks born of dragonflies – whom the Prussians call Kugelblitze – are confined quantities, far less destructive than their greater kin. Because of their small size they soon digest themselves in a matter of years, and can eat no more then a nest of termites in the same span. One may be found in every park and forest in North America, though only one as soon enough they will all eventually consume each other.

Legend has it Manhattoes tribes of what is today Nieuw Amsterdam held these beings in particular awe. Before a shaman could be initiated into their role among the Indian peoples, their final test would be to descend into the woodlands with no food or water, and come back only when they had captured one inside a jar.

Eve continued to read on about the habits of the basilisk fly, and when that entry was completed she read several dozen more. By the time the train rolled to a stop at the Medial Park Station, Eve had nearly forgotten why she was on the train in the first place

File: dMqYR3j.png (22KB, 402x516px) Image search: [Google]

22KB, 402x516px

gonna read through the thread and critique in my next post.

tell me if this is gimmicky and gay (I think it's aesthetically very nice and soothing. in a clinical encyclopedic way.)

>>9102964
>>>/trash/

>>9102964
absolutely terrible please quit

>>9082085
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.

>>9102964
>footnotes in a poem

It's too meta, you're criticizing your expression as you express it

Roman Advance (Sonnet)
The light beams through the vaulted canopy
of trees and reveals tribal habitants.
Barbarians to Greeks, great majesty
of Rome sends legions with hellish intent.
The golden eagle crests the mountain pass,
a sea of crimson soldiers, thundering,
Advances on the forest all en masse.
A sudden halt leaves Germans wondering.
A giant catapult is wheeled forward
and Romans set the projectile ablaze.
As crimson cloaks wait for attacking word,
a massive beast blacks out Apollo’s rays.
A great dragon swoops down on invaders
and breathes fire, screaming, “die dictators.”

>>9102741
Change "It is generally agreed upon by scholars of theoretical zoology" to "Theoretical zoologists agree"

>>9102964
I admire the idea of the annotations and classic poets have annotated their own works before (t. Edmund Spenser) but this comes off looking goofy.

>>9099000
Amazing! very consistent and interesting theme, very vivid and cool imagery. Love it nigga.
>>9098516
I like the overall presence of this, but I would recommend maybe taking a look at the middle of this poem? particularly the end of the 2nd stanza, beginning of the third? I like the imagery, but I wish it were more... concise. Idk, I don't think you need to expand on grimy loneliness as much as u do.
>>9097987
amazing, thoroughly laughed and then sort of went 'huh.' at the end. does everything it sets out to do -- keep it up man!

tattered pages,
dog eared,
stained

the colloquially used word for ponderosa:
'pondo' (exaggerated California accent)

three children walk by
slang and voice cracks
snyder talks about kerouac
in a very condescending way

from coastal state
to coastal state
to island towns

mormon colleges
'twelve bucks
for a fuckin pack
of cigarettes.'
-Dave

financial aid
a notable loneliness

lexapro induced apathy
or antidepressant withdrawals

the hallmark of
a good breakfast buffet
is choice

>>9103104
oh right, passive voice.

but still, is that transition at the end too abrupt?

I dreamt I was a catfish
And love was in the air
And although it was near everywhere
I wouldn't breath it if I dared

File: IMG_20170129_2125381.jpg (2MB, 3672x4896px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 3672x4896px

>>9103315
I got food poisoning and wrote this whole listening to muddy waters after shitting my brains out

>>9103202
Hey, thanks anon—! I'm the owner of the first and the third poems you (very generously I might add) critiqued. I really appreciate your feedback. As for the end of the second poem: he dies! He walks under a coconut tree, gets hit in the head by a coconut, and dies. (Surprisingly, this happens to about 3-11 people a year.) Hence, he marries the earth. Anyway, that's the explanation. Glad you liked them. Please let me know if you have anything to critique, I'd be glad to share my opinions.

"Neighbor"

An ambulance moans
down my dead end
in reverse, k-turns,
finds the right home.

I am window watching,
failing to remember the
neighbor's name
as the paramedics crowd her porch.

To think-
her last sight of her home
was taken sitting upright,
on the plastic board,
assured this admittance
was only cautionary.

I try not to dwell
each morning in the shower
on my need to have bid farewell to
every brick
every window,
every flower bed,
were I in her stead

In spring, her yard will lay
tangled and grey

It's in Spanish. This is like my 5th novel or so. Don't know if there's something I can improve.

https://www.wattpad.com/318611672-cacería-cazador

File: IMG-20160909-WA0014.jpg (35KB, 512x514px) Image search: [Google]

35KB, 512x514px

>>9104092
You better kill yourself instead of keep writting

>>9102050
Anybody got some crits?

You think it's ok to write the whole story by having character dialogue and narrator dialogue that describes everything else like this

example
"it's early in the morning, sun is barely peeking behind the horizon."
"you walk downstairs to the kitchen."
"*yawn*"
"oh, good morning."
"morning."
"did you sleep well?"
"yeah, though I'm still a bit sleepy.."
"mom chops some carrots and other vegetables."
"what you making mom?"
"i'm preparing lunch, take some bread for breakfast."
"ok."
"after finishing your breakfast you go back to your room."

>>9104612
Isn't that how plays work?

>>9104658
maybe, no idea though, it's just the only way I know how to write a story..

>>9104612
Ok? Why are you doing it? Does it help you express your story, is that how it comes to your mind, do you want the reader to feel like he's playing dungeons and dragons or do you just thing it would be a cool idea? If you leave out the omniscient narrator talking to the reader I thought of the Waves, you should read that.

>>9104594
please no, corn father

>>9104694
it's for a visual novel and main character is obviously a self insert.

if i leave out narrator, how could i tell reader what he's doing and describe the environment?

i've already written another story like that, it's incomplete but it's like over 4 hours long for first time reader, i'm just asking opinions is it good way to tell the story.

Look at you:
a lounging canopy
uncoils and outward blooms
from your scalpfield; rows of
branches fingerwise entwine
into a network, whose bark
its siblimbs' skin abrades,
and fuses with the marrow,

but to stretch a million
filamentous paths of its own
from the matted mass,
at extremities whereof
to deliquesce, and then
to disappear into the bed.

You say it discomfits you,
but from here, to me,
it seems a nest woven
tight and snug
into the entrails of your brain.

Littered tears for loitered memories.

>>9104594
Please no, corn father

The submarine's haul moans
as the darkness deepens
and lights emerge from the silence
dancing like stars on dancing with the stars.
His reflection blinks back
against the opaque canvass of space,
a watery grave riddled with life,
the color of drowning, a swollen face.
But this is just a routine dive,
there's nothing special here to see,
until the submersible comes across a door,
and a welcome mat at the bottom of the sea.

>>9105347
this is str8 CA$H anon

>>9105347
>hull

>>9105876
ok but like did you like it

>>9105347
the L4 simile is weak on repeated readings
'watery grave' is a cliche
'this is just a routine ____' borders on cliche
I kinda like the typo, if it is a typoe
see/sea rhyme is a bit gross without another 'eee' sound between them. comes of as half-assed rime-riche
>opaque canvass of space
p good line

r8 me guise

Pygmalion (Apnea)

As moss grows on the marble;
eyes on a sleeping lover

To peer beyond the shroud
and dare to uncover

The rivered skin; the mountained
skin; the holy skin

still, too still

Why doesn’t the meadow tremble?

As moss grows on the marble
eyes of a sleeping lover,

and the Earth quakes with a start,
the marble hills rise and sink into
the rolling knolls

gently, gently

the breathsong so sweet.

>>9105347
>against the opaque canvass of space
Wtf does this even mean? Are you trying to describe his reflection against the window? If so, that's a terrible description of a window reflection.

>>9106147
p sure he's talking about the ocean water

>>9102050
That shit's actually really good

>>9106153
Water isn't opaque, it's literally the opposite of opaque.

>>9106159
not when goes on for miles, man
just like how space looks black y'know

>>9106167
Haha what, so even the vacuum of space isn't transparent? Also the reasons behind space appearing black and water having a visible limit are completely different. Holy shit some of y'all are retarded.

Water isn't opaque, it is transparent. The definitions of those words have nothing to do with the distance of the medium.

The guy is literally looking at stuff in the water. That would be IMPOSSIBLE if it were opaque. Out of all the places on 4chan I'm shocked to find /lit/ has such poor respect and understanding for the definitions of words. Like for fuck's sake, this is the literary equivalent of saying 2+2=5.

>>9106196
do you know how poetry works?
it's about presenting the image
you need to read more or troll threads where people aren't trying to get better.

>>9106201
>it's about presenting the image
Yeah, which it did terribly imo. Is he talking about the window? The water? Wait, neither are opaque, what is this guy talking about?

It's overly verbose, confusing and technically completely wrong. In no way is that good writing. That is unless you think good writing is just having a fancy sounding, unique string of words.

>>9106201
Also how am I trolling? I'm critiquing the guy's writing so he can maybe use that criticism to "get better".

>>9106218
i wasn't confused by it
it isn't that verbose
and 'technically wrong' is a shit criticism
the 'image' isn't the water or the window or space
the image is:
>the opaque canvass of space
which has connotations otherwise unavailable to either of those objects

it's not a great poem, but you being stuck on that line is weird. there are a bunch of other lines that are actually bad.

>>9106226
i don't guess you are. i put that in case you were, because i legitimately don't understand how the language is confusing you unless you want it to be a literal description (which is a strange thing to expect in poetry)

>>9106242
I picked out that specific line because I noticed someone else singled it out as an especially good line, which was ridiculous to me.

>>9106264
i singled it out, because i thought it was a good line

>>9106269
I disagree, and I've explained why. You seem to think it's good because it presents a nice image. It didn't for me, not even close. But it's pointless arguing over something as subjective as the image it produces in our heads, which is why I pointed out that it also happens to be objectively wrong.

>>9079873
Ten thousand eyes and four hundred hands
And all of my arms are made of the sands
And oceans have all been dried up and left
They became the skies and then they all wept
The first time they heard the song from Tom Petty
The one where Johnny Depp plays the rebel named Eddie
The sky was the limit and then it came crashing down

>>9106292
that's fair, but 'objectively wrong' is a weird issue
i can see why someone would dislike it. I just don't see that being an issue specifically.

When I was done dying, my conscience regained
So I began my struggle, a nothingness strained
Out a flash made of time, my new form blasted out
And it startled me so and I burst out a shout
At which my legs ran frantic like birds from a nest
And I ran until drained, leaving no choice but rest
So I fell asleep softly at the edge of a cave
But I should have gone in deeper but I'm not so brave
And like that I was torn out and thrown in the sky
And I said all my prayers because surely I'll die
As I crashed down and smashed into earth, into dirt
How my skin did explode, leaving only my shirt
But from shirt grew a tree and then tree grew a fruit
And I became the seed and that seed was a brute
And I clawed through the ground with my roots and my leaves
And I tore up the shirt and I ate up the sleeves
And they laughed out at me and said "what is your plan?"
But their question was foreign, I could not understand
When then suddenly I'm ripped up and placed into a mouth
And it swallowed me down at which time I head south

I said hey ya ya hey ya ya hey ya ya hey ya ya hey ya ya

Well I woke up to see them, these two mighty steeds
With their mouths grinning wildly expressing my needs
As they stood there above me, being flanked on each side
I felt no need to fear them, no reason to hide
So I reached up to touch but they faded too soon
Yet their mouths still remained and stacked up towards the moon
How that ladder of mouth waved so soft in the night
And I looked up in awe at that beautiful sight
And I dreamt about climbing into the night sky
But I knew had I touched them they'd mouth back "Bye-bye"
So I got up and walked down the path in the dark
And there deep in the distance my eye caught a spark
Of a crab twice my size with incredible strength
Oh, it greeted me kindly and then we all drank
And we drooled out together right onto the ground
And the ocean grew up quickly right up all around
And the earth looked at me and said "Wasn't that fun?"
And I replied "I'm sorry if I hurt anyone"
And without even thinking cast me into space
But before she did that she wiped off my own face
She said better luck next time don't worry so much
Without ears I couldn't hear I could just feel the touch
As I feel asleep softly at the edge of a cave
But I should have gone deeper but I'm not so brave

>>9106226
I appreciate your criticism anon, I can see it comes from a good place. As for the specifics of it, I must insist that water several miles below the surface is undoubtedly black, as in you can't see through it, as in opaque. And to answer your initial question, I was indeed describing the water beyond the submersible's window, as a canvass, on which the portrait of his face was imprinted. I understand how this might not have been executed properly, but I do not think the meaning of the poem, or those lines in particular, are as opaque as you are making them out to be.

>>9106115
Thanks for the feedback @n0n, just to elaborate: L4 was totally supposed to be funny, and this might just be me, but I don't think cliches are necessarily categorically bad. I mean, how could they be? Surely they must have their place? I'm not saying they fit in my poem, in fact I totally agree with you about the cheesy watery grave bit, but like all things, they have their place. Anyway, I don't want to come across as unwilling to receive feedback, because I'm totally grateful to receive it. 4reals.

As for your P03M:

I really like the tone of it: delicate and debonair
my tongue stumbled a bit over the mountained//skin couplet, so I think there might be a way to improve the flow there
the convergence of lines 2 and 3 threw me off a bit syntactically, what with an infinitive following 'eyes' and whatnot, but then when read with the previous line "as moss..." without the semicolon, the couplet worked quite nicer imo
anyway, I know the style of the poem clearly doesn't focus on following language rules strictly, and it doesn't have to, so definitely take my suggestions with a grain of salt

good stuff

>>9099270
hey thanks friend

>>9106707
>L4 was totally supposed to be funny
it was, but it wasn't the type of funny that persisted through rereads (for me), and that could take a toll on the perceived quality by anyone who read it multiple times to get more out of it. That's a total decision on how you want the poem to be treated. Do you want to encourage rereads?

>I don't think cliches are necessarily categorically bad
they're not in dialogue or conversation or audio(the mild ones) but in poetry, the space it takes to parrot a cliche could be used to develop an image that would propel the work.
You don't seem overly opposed to criticism, its reasonable to defend your work, especially in a way that teases out deeper potential issues that may have been addressed superficially.

I see you don't like my semi-colons. I'll def look into the issues (although i'm loathe to change L1&L2)
I'm glad you liked parts of it.

>>9106659
>water several miles below the surface is undoubtedly black, as in you can't see through it, as in opaque
But you're describing stuff on the outside of the submarine, so surely it's not opaque?

>>9098309
>including but not limited to
do you want to be a lawyer?

Second excerpt. This time I tried to work on presenting a character.

http://pastebin.com/uT9VEvdf

>>9106940
Yeah but "stuff on the outside of the submarine" in this case is totally black

>>9107278
So how are you seeing it? I assumed the writing was from the pov of the guy in the sub. You say "there's nothing special here to see, until the submersible comes across a door,
and a welcome mat at the bottom of the sea." Is that not clearly implying the passenger sees this stuff?

>>9107398
anon, i'm not going to sit here and explain the practical logistics of my poem to you. this is ridiculous. you think it doesnt make sense, fine it doesnt make sense. its a poem i took three minutes to write, i honestly dont care anymore

>>9107426
It's a critique thread, so don't get pissy when someone starts critiquing what you've written.

>>9107580
i wasn't, youre just being pedantic

>>9106315

The rhyme scheme you're using really starts to drag after a few lines. AABBCCDDEEFF is mind-numbing and you'd do well to vary things up.

The rhymes themselves are awkward or obvious, and to be honest I have no idea what's actually happening in this poem? The shifting perspective and form could be interesting if done right but I'm not sure you're there yet.

---------

As for mine: http://pastebin.com/jZvN5t1c

I gestated this over a day at work and then when I got home I opened up my head and it fell out fully formed in a couple hours, so consider it a rough first draft.

The things I'm mainly noticing in it that I'd like to hear some feedback on are about voice. The character had a homeschooled fifth grade education and then basically no intellectual stimulation at all after that so he's mentally stunted. I tried to capture the childlike mentality with a mix of short, clipped sentences and disorganized tangents, and I'd like to hear how that bears out.

I'm also a little concerned that the voice runs counter to the tone in the final scene. Do you feel like whatever impact the last section of the book has is undermined by the guy's rambling?

And whatever else you notice you'd like to mention, of course. I won't explain what exactly is going on because if I didn't get that across in the text I need to fix something. Thanks.

“Why did I bother wasting my money on a chalk board if you weren't going to erase it when you were done?” Eve opened her mouth to protest, then caught herself and stared into her lap saying nothing. He knew what she had meant to say of course, even if it didn't quite make sense to him. Proofs, it was always something about proofs.

He was never all that clear on what numbers could prove – aside from the fact that 6 wouldn't be too keen on disobeying 7 after what happened last time – but it clearly added up better in her head than his. He shook his head and sighed. Fatherhood was a different job from rum-running, he reminded himself, sometimes it was just better to let things be.

“I guess it was a good thing you used chalk for this,” he muttered, rubbing the drying liquid between his fingers, “we can just wipe it off with a damp rag. At any rate we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. There're more important things to worry about at the moment. We have a shipment coming into Grave's End tonight down from Montreal way. and I need to know if the boys should be on the lookout for anything they might want to avoid.”

>>9107683

I haven't slept in like 24 hours so I'm totally fucked rn , but once I sleep it off I'll come back with some in depth crit but. Feel's very Fincher-esque ( at least the empty,desolate almost surreal way the imagery played out in my head) also idk if it's just because of how I feel rn but the disjointed thoughts and simple phrasing resonated with me

>>9107683
>Do you feel like whatever impact the last section of the book has is undermined by the guy's rambling?

honestly speaking there isn't a lot to undermine. You leave too much ambiguous and I just don't understand the world you're trying to describe. Mystery can be a good thing but the absence of any meaningful answers it's just frustrating

>>9106955
This one isn't as good at the last one. Your sentences are divided up in very unnatural ways. It doesn't matter if I can understand your meaning or appreciate your prose; punctuation dictates how the human brain converts letters to speech patterns. Fuck those up and nothing you write has the capacity to be perceived as good, regardless of actual quality

>>9107745

Well shit, I'll have to take a good hard look at those, thanks. What makes you think the first ones better

>>9085949
good use of language
To many sentences that feel like statements.
>He sat down and taped on the black plastic keys of his laptop.
What did that feel like.
Did he know what the fuck he was talking about?
Why did it even matter to him.
He was a fake anyways.

Is there a word that describes when you take a deep drink of liqueur and your next breath chokes on the fumes?

>>9107766
Was the first one the one with the statues? The sentence structure obviously was cleam but you had a very good grasp at atmosphere, and scenic aesthetic. I realize those are shallow terms but they bait the curiosity. I wanted to read more.

I would appreciate if you would critique as well. we all have to do our part to keep this thread running. feeling the burn?

>>9107803
fuck, that last sentence was meant to link to >>9107794

>>9107803

yeah the cave. I see what you mean thanks a lot

I think I recognize your story, is the one with the girl who draws all over the walls and her adopted father acts exasperated ? I think it was planets or something she was drawing.

>>9107810
same thing, re-writing a scene or two after some harsh but precise criticism

>>9107820

for what it's worth I really enjoyed what you offered last time

Thought about going with this as my opening line. Thoughts?

Humanity is born as women cry and pain in labour; while civilisation is destroyed with our own crys resonated by our own hubris and lust for vanity. You might say our ultimate vanity is our own ego.

>>9108569
First impressions: preachy. I mean, you can write, and well, but it's not like I'm going to be hooked by getting preached at.

When Kyna had woken up, the family bed felt rather empty. Arm outstretched, seeking the bodies of her parents but sensing only the straw that made up the bed. Perhaps both of them must have had gone out and started the day without me. She wondered, as she lay on the straw bed for a moment longer. Autumn is nearing its end and they needed firewood and food for winter.

She started propping herself up using her hands. The lord's fields needed ploughing, the garden needed tending, the animals had to be let out, she needed to help her mother in her work when she and her father returned. Putting on her leather boots along with the wooden patens followed by her green gown with her sleeveless tunic and wimple.


---------


Please tell me your honest Opinion.

>>9089118
>http://pastebin.com/5m7mkTTB

This is nice. I liked it a lot, probably because I identified with the narrator, but also because it reads very comfortably.

Only in a few spots you deviate from your comfortable style for some artifice. I'm not sure if I like those. It might be that they are the bit of spicing it that keep it from going bland, but at the moment I feel like they are too dissonant to contribute to the rest of the text in a meaningful way.

Example: referencing to the guy behind the counter as 'the hair net man', is strange to me. I would expect the narrator to have enough sympathy with this man to think of him as more than just 'the hair net man'. The artifice pushes emotional connection into the corner and seems out of place.

Or: In the line about the arm of the man behind the counter you use a metonym that seems very much in place considering the homely contentness of the thing, but is presented in a very artful manner, which, again, seems to confuse the style of the piece.

Then again, maybe it's exactly this joyful artfulness of experience of the mundane that makes this piece so nice to read.

Anyway, I enjoyed reading it and hope you continue writing.

Check out my hellopoetry for more

Sometimes it's in your voice, the words you whisper;
They drive me crazy with lust, with desire.
With anything you want to call it.
A catalyst for sex, a gateway drug to a world of
Never-ending thirst begging to be slaked,
Masquerading as Heaven.
But I hear the devil in the soft corners of your accent,
And I see fires blazing behind your eyes,
Lighting up the dark brown into a molten gold
That beckons me to drown in them.
Gold is the colour of halos, you tell me,
Of deity-like regalia, divine and beautiful.
Gold isn't the colour of demon attire,
So I swim in the depths of those flame-filled eyes.

>>9109064
with some shifting this could very easily become a sonnet (which would justify the wording more)
>Lighting up the dark brown into a molten gold
this line takes too long to say something as simple as it does.


World of Dew (I Love You)

Help yourself to the moss
upon the floor
that grew from lichenland
beyond the door

See how it flowers in the lamplight
and ponder this eternity of warmth

I felt the nymphs sneak in during
the witching hour
and knew at once who had brought
the april shower
that washed away
the stones of the drive

This soft world of green life
raising through the cracks beneath
the pipes

has brought me to eternity
and as i sit in the timeless time
as i sit in the great big white
I reach out and touch your face my child

I hope you can feel me
like a warm breeze or
soft brush
I hope you can hear me
sing in a soft hush

I love you
everything you do
I love you
in this world of dew
I love you

I love you

>>9089118
>http://pastebin.com/5m7mkTTB

I like it. Extremely inviting, lovely scene. Your descriptions are colorful without being pretentious. Writing-wise, it's all pretty solid. A couple of times you use phrases like "very old," and I'd cut the "very" or replace it with "ancient," etc. Other than that, I like it. Is it part of a greater whole, and does it have a destination in mind?
I'm sitting on a finished genre novel. I'm actively seeking representation, and as you all know, the very immediate beginning is a critical time to hook an agent or editor. So here are the first 300 or so words. Looking for criticisms on the writing and how it can be made more enticing and exciting.

http://pastebin.com/ecj5EUSU

Thank you all in advance!

>>9109552

I have received hundreds of rejections, had several in-person and telephone interactions with agents, some at some length, was a regular on Miss Snark, and have published some stories and poems. I will tell you exactly what an agent will think.

"frame," ... "frame." and "probing."

Describe his body by part, or by action. "He tried to sit up and reached his hand for her hair." You are trying to describe an unwanted intrusion. "Frame" is an abstraction that erases our narrative gaze (NG), rather than filling it in. "Probing" implies a blind search. There is also an unexplained and NG disrupting shift from narrative present to narrative past tense. "Probing" gives way to "thudded" one graf later.

"rambled." Stick with "said." The dialog itself carries the characterization, or it isn't good enough. Exceptions that may be argued during the editing, but not the writing phase: "whispered," and other context-appropriate volume cues. At this stage, "said."

I have no idea what iron smells like.

"She sniffed," and "another thing for her to clean." - The signal is too noisy for me to decipher whether she is subservient or contemptuous. That seems like an important distinction.

Given this many check boxes for extremely common first-timer tics, the agent will never see this. Her assistant will mail back a form rejection.

One question you can ask yourself about this scene (and probably every other - remember if an agent sees one thing they don't like in 300 words, they automatically multiply it by 30 for a 90,000 word piece), is:

Whose scene is this? Is it - mostly, mainly - "about" her, or - mostly, mainly - "about" him? There is always (or should be) a "focus" character in each scene. Not even the "main" character, but a character whose development the scene is there for.

The easiest way to then convey that is to tell the scene from that char's point of view. If this scene is "about" her, then choosing her POV also solves the signalling question - we can hear her contempt directly from her own mind.

Other benefits of an intentional POV - every figure of speech can then be deployed to characterize the focus char. So you can redress "thousand-legged thrashing monster" by asking, "how would she see his shadow? What would it look like to her?"

In this way, every description carries the additional payload of influencing the reader into her mind, and perspective - and her /motive/.

Conflict is the essence of drama. For conflict to play on the page, we have to feel the opposing forces.

" The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm."

Note - middle, enemy, and firm. No doubt who is whom, nor why.

>>9109779
Wow, this is absolutely excellent feedback. Thank you so much for taking the time to write that out. In the novel itself, there is a chapter title and the word SHAOLA implying that it is indeed her POV. But I still see exactly what you mean. I've always felt this beginning to be a little clunky, but couldn't bring myself to rewrite it considering the weight of all the writing that comes next.

You've given me the strength to assess it again, and hard. So again I thank you.

File: pretty painting.gif (339KB, 600x803px) Image search: [Google]

339KB, 600x803px

>>9109552
Anon, seriously follow the other anon's advice on characterisation, it's fantastic. A few other notes, "alter" should be "altar" . I think your "thousand-legged monster" metaphor is a little stretched. Your prose is fine, and your dialogue and scene have a logical continuity. I can understand the flow of time, character and scene, even though it's a short excerpt. With some more work, you could probably publish some genre fantasy, if that's what you're going for.

>>9089118
This is a nice, easy read. I enjoyed your prose, it gave me a less pretentious Holden sort of vibe. There was no conflict or drama, I just floated in your scene and enjoyed myself.

Perhaps, maybe, that's the weakness of it? But it's rather suitable, for a blissful kebab.

Do keep writing.

>>9085962
>>9085949
Not bad. This "a name to the battered hunk of baked clay she held in her hands." is your best line. For "and now it was ruined" cut the "and", it hurts the curt drama of the line.

>>9080179
This is perfectly inoffensive writing. Good fantasy fluff.

>>9108705
This is really too short to tell. It's not badly written, but there's not enough to call it good. It's perhaps a little slow.

>>9108569
If you are not going to start your story with plot or character no one will read it, short of you being the kind of philosophical genius that comes once a century. If you have a philosophy you want to present, do so through drama and character.

>>9109779
Anon, if you could be so kind, I would love to hear your feedback.

-------------------------------------

Here is mine. I'm not happy with the beginning and I feel the conversation could lose a paragraph or two. I'm worried perhaps that some drama is lost in explaining why the conversaion is dramatic, and there's a slight tone shift from dark comedy to dark.

It's for a university short story competition. The first quote is from a historical source, I've a good mind to remove it.

http://pastebin.com/6qwZpqT0

Thank in advance for any advice, I certainly need some. I know there are grammar errors with the dialogue tags, I'm just so tired I'll do that later.

>>9110737
Something about the first ten lines is floating my eyeballs. The peasants via the beams of light get syntactically conflated with the column, until I'm not sure whether I am supposed to be seeing a mass of people or a piece of architecture.

Just simple stuff: How can the pages of books be loose? It sounds like nitpicking, but every little semantic hurdle like that functions like a fart in church. "Pewters." Just to be sure, I looked for any instance of a devotional application for this metal alloy in the relevant references, but found none. I presume "pews" is the target.

Where you hit the ground with four wheels turning is when the bishop shows up. Since it's not my baby, I would not be offended in the least if the piece started on graf 5.

The church is presumably the Catholic church, or the Anglican. The time I assume is medieval or renaissance, but it would not hurt my delicate sensibilities if there were a marker to confirm it so - the name of a historical figure dropped somehow. Or the use of a dated implement. Like a quill. Something. The place may be England, or early colonial North America. If it matters, find a way to mark it.

I am not oppressed by the tone as given, but if you seek further precedent, take a look at the Barnhouse Effect, the Kuglemass Episode, The Lottery, and A Good Man Is Hard To Find. Those cover the spectrum of the plot "headed for a bad end" from absurd to sinister about as well as I can reckon.

>>9110737
>>9111055
It's a story, by the way. Starting with the knock upon the door would also ring the bell of association with MacBeth and Beethoven. The "Knock of Doom." It would also simplify the problem of the opening scene, and settle the structure into an easier to control simple dialog between the principals, resembling a one-act play. If you feel that the image of the congregation fleeing the church is absolutely required, perhaps the bishop can describe it, since it immediately preceded his arrival - he would have been in a position to witness the exodus from just outside?

The last two lines are fine. Whatever else happens, end exactly there.

>>9110737

>"They’ll love it. A touch of mystery in their lives.”

Very young popish. I liked it. Although the intro description needs to be fleshed out a bit. I don't know where in England or what period you place the story (There's a baroness) but I think you can be a little more playful with the implications. For example atheism is not just a sin, it's a sure way to damnation and was taken very seriously up until the late 19th century.

----
anti-islam poem

I can’t forget your meek butchers who filled
our shores and hearts with exotic terrors
and washed the fields my grandfather had tilled
with our gentle blood and unheard prayers.
Your bearded fruit thieves, your crescent bearers,
plucked my poor sister from my bough-like arms,
sent her to dry among slaves and slavers,
to pleasure a vizier with thighs and palms -
No! I can’t forget your Orient’s sweet charms

>>9108569
Aside from the obvious over the top verbosity, I hate the phrase "you might say". How about YOU,as the writer, just say it yourself, and stop being afraid of your own conclusions. "Our ultimate vanity is our own ego" is still a bad line, but it's a thousand times better than what it is.

>>9097042
cliche af but executed well

>>9098330
ADHD: the poem

>>9111163
bough-like arms doesn't sound good or fit here

>>9106296
not bad, has a spontaneous vibe to it

>>9111163
unnerving you would take the time to write and post this

First draft of first section of a project
His thoughts betray him. Have a beer. Have ten. It sits like chewed up grasses in his stomach and he feels no discernable drunk, only nausea and the swelling of his belly pregnant from future gutspill. He looks withdrawn and ghostly as a specter of dread hanging over the patrons of this bar and night club but he is not just important enough tonight to instill any feeling of dread in anyone here. Fear, maybe, if anyone is paranoid enough, but their fear would be misplaced for he has no intention to kill. It is dark now and the walk home is going to be darker. When he passes by the church with the enclosed tiny playground he might wane nostalgic before bed. Walk home in the dirt, on the side of the street where there is no sidewalk because it is easier to cross the street. He will drink some more when he gets home because there is no greater illumination of temptation, devilishly obvious, than the light from the fridge. It is cold. He walks into the cloud of his breath and down the sidewalk past that enclosed church playground. He does not wane nostalgic. There are several adult girls in tight, tight skirts who have hopped the fence and are sliding down those slides and crossing those rope bridges and screaming observations to their drunken friends while pulling down those skirts. He crosses the street early. The side of the street with no sidewalk is welcomingly dark.
Masses of dead leaves crunch underfoot as he continues home. Joyous and distinct bar noises fade into a single din with high-pitched laughs or screams speared through indiscriminately until he is far enough away from the scene to hear nothing. He looks up and sees no stars as if the noise he left is leeching light from the sky. It is leeching life from the earth as he hears no insect or mammal. His journey is coming to a close as he turns the corner and climbs the stairs pulling his keys from his pocket. He feels his cigarette package in pocket and his weak constitution forces him to smoke instead of walk inside.

>>9111055
>>9111079
Anon, I could kiss you. You give the advice of a writer who know his craft deeply. Initially, I included the fluff text: "Childrey 1656:", which is the setting of the historical text I based it off. I think, considering this is my only scene, I might have a fuller descriptive of the office and, when he's remembering the church and being hanged. Starting with the knock is better actually, and cuts some weak fat. I was just a little fond of the centipede metaphor, because I wanted to kind of carry the slight "life wtihout God makes you an animal" message to offbeat that both Priests end as agnostic/ atheists.

The reason the intro is initially weird was that it started off as a flash fiction attempt (500 words) but I felt the tone was awfully underdeveloped and padded the middle. I'm going to read every book you've suggested there, and look at the work again, although the deadline is days away.

Thank you anon.

>>9111163
I don't write or read poetry, which is a regret, but I'll do my best to give you advice. I haven't actually watched The Young Pope either, but a friend immediately made the comparison.

Is this poem based on personal experience? What's the story behind it? My biggest sug

I can only give my meek opinion that - although I like Muslim people and am severely dyslexic - I enjoyed the imagery, but did not quite follow the rhythm scheme at all times. Further, I'd like to see more words more unique to your location, "fiels" "fruit" "bough-like" "exotic" - they're all too generic when a more direct word could have a sharper effect.

Is the place that raised you
still the place
that you call home?

Somebody should’ve told you
Not to go out in the winter rain
Without a jacket

Somebody should've told you
That telling you to follow your dreams
Was only their job

Somebody should've told you
That ghosts are who you could've been
and that even children change into men

Somebody should’ve told you
That all those busy years
Were rings inside a tree

>>9111334
Well its justified because descriptions are very hard. I personally prefer historical context because I'm sufficiently well versed in history to quickly paint a mental picture. It's a problem that seems to permeate literature. Even great writers struggle with it.The best I've seen was found in this book - there's an excellent depiction of Saint-Petersburg. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Journey_to_the_End_of_the_Night).

For the poetry, It was an experiment with the spenserian stanza. I was trying to deliberately write in simple language. The aim was to combine higher form with easier language. I was of course constrained by the iambic pentameter. As for the story behind it, it takes for subject the arab slave trade - arguably more brutal than it's atlantic counterpart.

>>9111329
I like the way the description of the scene and the character's mindset sort of intertwine in the prose.

I know this is the first draft, but, for god's sake, don't forget to separate two independent clauses with a comma.

I know on later drafts you'll tighten it, but there's a lot of redundancy.

>swelling of his belly pregnant
>ghostly as a specter

Overall there's a pretty good atmosphere going on. Your style is nice to read and entertaining.

>>9111318

What's so unnerving about it

>>9111437
that you felt the need to write a poem about hating a large group of people and post it

I don't know. I just don't like to see people taking such a large cultural phenomenon so personally.

>>9111437
That you would let the actions of the few, a corrupted minority, cloud your judgment.

>>9111456

It is grounded in history I'm afraid.
I didn't write the history but I was certainly affected by it.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery_in_the_Ottoman_Empire

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_slavery_in_the_Muslim_world

>>9111472
Slavery Existed in all facets of civilization, from Western to Eastern. Their actions are no different than ours

>>9111499
Yes but it's not a subject that's commonly discussed. If I had written a poem about the Holocaust would have gotten the same response? Yet millions of people were enslaved, some castrated others forced into sexual slavery. Islam too has a very tumultuous history and one which is just as worthy of condemnation.

>>9111535
>Yes but it's not a subject that's commonly discussed. If I had written a poem about the Holocaust would have gotten the same response?
Given the Nature of Germans and their autism? Not likely.

>Yet millions of people were enslaved, some castrated others forced into sexual slavery.
We did also. Why bother trying to get the moral High ground?

>Islam too has a very tumultuous history and one which is just as worthy of condemnation.
They are Condemn, Turkey Gets shit on for insisting the Armenian genocide never happen but should have happen. Just because you don't hear doesn't mean they're not being condemn. Other Islamic leaders have condemn other Islamic leaders for the shit they do. The Ahmadiyya being a good example

y'all acting super weird
dude wrote a poem about how islam fucked over a lot of people, and if he hadn't told you it was about islam then you would not have given a shit
just because christians did it too don't mean you can't write a poem about how fucked up it was when islam did it

>>9079873
as I write to you,
do me a favor
my dearest son
don't forget me
forget the wind that blows
forget the sun that sets
forget what life really is,
but please son,
don't forget me
your old man, your father
dearest old dad
I left when you,
were just my little boy
but I never left your heart
I never left your heart
unfortunately son,
life works in weird ways
one moment here, the next gone
son I could love you if
only God gave me the chance
to see you again

Goodbye Matthew

>>9080232
Unironically funny. Why is this so funny?

>>9082087
Also unironically like this. So pointless, but it can be interpreted in so many ways.

File: IMG_0900.jpg (3MB, 2535x3300px) Image search: [Google]

3MB, 2535x3300px

"Submit a request ask if I may
Ponder what I'm about to say
What is truth but what you believe?
The question I ask tends to deceive

Wander through dreamland aimlessly
Purposeless is your path to be
Blinded by veils, weighed down by chains
Unknowing god of your domain.

Take it all in unquestioning
Care not what truth blasphemy brings
Knowing inside you have no name
Turbulent thinking it does tame

A pitcher of reason does convince
sip; think that god does not exist.
Finish the drink and you will see
He's not where you thought him to be.

Behind the curtain does he lie
To cross the curtain you must die
Lifting the curtain brings to view
The stage where it rests was built by you

Be it not oak or willow tree
Metaphor forgoes clarity
Ponder once more what I may mean
When I profess that life's a dream."