CRITIQUE THREAD: this quote doesn't even make sense edition

She was a lunatic going down the side of the road. Old ghosts hounded at her heels and surrounded and tormented her to mania. The pram tackled gravel and the sound of her screaming child emerged at times over the noise of traffic that passed behind a chain link fence. Found herself here all of a sudden with the clairvoyance of being the dreamer, where events are already in motion, no questions as to the how and why. They were dead or irrelevant but somehow they found her and so caught between a response of fight or flight, she frenzied in retaliation and great, animated flinches. Exhausted and eventually did not even have the energy to hallucinate. She clung to her mid-section and touched her chin to her chest, the pram was saved by a young tree as it rolled toward a likely tragedy and she went on into the paddock nearby, left empty in the centre of development, waiting patiently to become houses or an IGA. There was no foreground behind which she could hide but she diminished in the dying grass bent sideways by the wind, her apparitions returned to memory where she could still hear them, she asked no one for any mercy, wanted only the privacy to suffer. She was the custodian of that bit of land, or at least its unclaimed heir, and it took her kindly somewhere safe, where if searched for methodically over square metre she would inevitably be found, but where it was simple fact that no one would. Dusk bled orange into the sky and coagulated on the horizon in black bellied clouds of soot, and there was actually the cawing of crows, essential to the afternoon as the setting sun, the sound of them in intervals of four, each cry became weaker until there was silence, a sentence abandoned as the moment became unsuitable, or suddenly the speaker realised that what he was saying was of no interest to anyone listening or even to himself. Her baby quietly occupied by the scenery that seemed to materialise through the shape of whatever it was laying in, or else it had fallen asleep and would have to wake up soon.

>>9255006

Your writing is ornate and overwritten.

>>9255004
You kind of need context to understand King's quote. He was saying dream big while you're young because life is gonna shrink you down one way or another once you start to grow up.

>>9255006
complete senseless drivel and inane

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>>9255006
I keep having to reread sentences because I can't tell what the fuck is going on. By the way, most of your shitty sentences are run-ons.
Dusk bled orange into the sky and coagulated on the horizon in black bellied clouds of soot, and there was actually the cawing of crows, essential to the afternoon as the setting sun, the sound of them in intervals of four, each cry became weaker until there was silence, a sentence abandoned as the moment became unsuitable, or suddenly the speaker realised that what he was saying was of no interest to anyone listening or even to himself.
Seriously? Kys if you actually want to defend this shit.

Outside the central heated office building, bloated clouds had swallowed the afternoon. They gushed rain against the polished windows, and made the headlights of packed Hyundai's on the street below appear grey. A man jousted his umbrella this way and that, hair wet against his forehead, his briefcase rattling in his free hand. Up in the offices, his frenzy appeared more like a strange, inaudible rain dance. But in the office, where the soil in plant pots had become arid powder, one employee snored with his tie loose around his collar, wet from perspiration. Another chugged water bottles one after the other.

My tongue was dry. I was unsure if it was owed to the heating or the new girl. My eyes traced the soft line of her cranium, hair tied into a neat ponytail, and then down following the line of her back, and then down again to the flush curve of her bottom. That was my first impression of her. She had been stood in profile for a while, in front of the whirring printer, watching documents collect in the printer's tray. When she faced me, her eyes softened behind their single lids. Stood under the office lights, her lightly tanned skin was glossy, the pearl fixed to her earlobe glistened, and she tilted her head as though trying to understand my gaze. The scent of her delicate, peach perfume wandered across the still distance between us, and sat in my throat.

>>9255577
>>9255543
This isn't critique, you're just insulting it

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As I sit here in my bed,
Wishing dearly I was dead,
Browsing 4chan every night,
Life fucked up, I'm just not right.
But I'll stay here and I'll browse,
Tired but refuse to drowse,
One more night I've spent alone,
Just shitposting from my phone.

>>9255006
I know you're proud of some of these lines but a lot of them are unnecessarily verbose.

The only understandable action going on here is the first line.

>>9255611
>phoneposter
kys

>>9255543
>>9255577
>>9255587
>>9255654
Do you also hate Pynchon? Genuinely curious.

>>9255670
This ain't no gravity's rainbow.

>>9255680
It's a tiny excerpt with very similar style. I mean, I am not the anon who posted it but I lurk crit threads a bit and I've noticed that most criticism tends to be around
>muh purpose prose meme!
>just say what you mean!
>simplify, simplify, simplify!
And then there is /lits meme trilogy... The discrepancy is just bizzare to me.

>>9255688
*purple prose

Consciousness rushes into focus, a dappled plaster ceiling stares back at him. The first reminder of his continued existence. A dull throb inside his brain is punishment for what feels like an eternity asleep.

Just an hour longer. His lids droop shut and he rolls to one side, the warm, wet blanket sticks to his flesh, but he barely notices, drunk with slumber. His limbs are waterlogged. He turns over again. No use. Reluctantly, he embraces reality, catching the first glimpse of the aftermath from last nights self-indulgence: A half-empty bottle of Sainsburys apple and blackcurrant squash, Extra mints, a box of pork pies and hand lotion. Standing remorsefully on his bedside cabinet.

“Face the day”, Mumbling to himself, knocking a toilet roll to join the smegma of his bedroom floor as he heaves himself out of bed, feeling caked in sweat and oil. If he had the ability to smell the miasma he might find the motivation to wash it off. Tomorrow perhaps.

He has more important things to do, of course. The harsh blue light of his laptop screen forcing him to squint as his eyes adjust, his desktop no better than his physical surroundings, littered with video recordings, some hours in length. But they are not enough. Click. A familiar red circle lights up, He stares back at himself through the screen, a pale amorphous blob, shirt covered in sweat stains.

“Greetings across the grand spectrums of time and indeed the multiverse, my name is Alexander Gordon Jahans!”

I just wrote this for fun as tribute to my lord and saviour, what do you think?

http://pastebin.com/16M0nnjM

Something I wrote about a year or so ago, been thinking about expanding on it for a contest so I'd appreciate any critique in that direction.

>>9255589
First paragraph is much better than the second, especially in the imagery you conjure (the rain dance bit especially) and the atmosphere of stale, desertic sameness you managed to create.
After that, the habit of describing physical and behavioural minutiae that was present, as some kind of accompanying undertone, throughout the first part of your writing jumps into the scene and clogs the text with what I'd consider well meaning filler.
Not that you wrote the scen horribly, it's more about the choice to have the scene described like that in the first place. Obviously the shortness of the piece and my personal loathing for this kind of passages played a part in my critique, but I'd like you to genuinely ask yourself why you're writing like that, what's the reason you have for creating this kind of worldview for your reader - if you don't mind, I'd appreciate an answer so I can understand as well.

>>9255955

'After that, the habit of describing physical and behavioural minutiae that was present, as some kind of accompanying undertone, throughout the first part of your writing jumps into the scene and clogs the text with what I'd consider well meaning filler.'

Did you mean, simply, that the first paragraph was better because the imagery set the scene, while the second paragraph prolonged the setting of the scene too long, and instead should be the point at which the scene rolls out action and drama?

I am writing in that way because I want to evoke the world with concrete, specific, and vivid detail. And I think one loses some of that in the style of Carver and Hemingway (of course, not to compare myself to their literary might). Their clipped prose, for me, doesn't allow this level of evocation.

>>9255955

The best element of your writing is the strong sense of voice; it's engaging in how it details the world.

But you go on too long with detail. I'm waiting for something to happen, as I read sentence after sentence of world building. I wish some incident or event would occur. In short, you don't make me care about what's happening.

>>9255914
>present tense 3rd person
Discarded
>>9255955
>no paragraphs
Discarded
>>9255589
This is good, write more
>>9255006
This is trash

>>9255983
I was mostly thinking about how your physical descriptions of the girl seem to occupy all of the reader's mental ability, leaving no place for more virtuosistic fragments of literature to take place - but it probably depends on us having two different approaches to literature. I think the mimetic aspect shouldn't take center stage, as it often ends up just holding up a sorry, drab mirror to reality, and it should focus on those of its eclusive virtues - metaphors, for example, meta-textual plays, the indeterminacy of dialogues (think McCarthy or Burroughs) and all this kind of shit.

Back to your piece, my gripe could be probably summarized in the fact that there seem to be two "souls" to your work, the overtly descriptive one and a conscience more "literarily" in touch with the world, and they seem at odds to find a balance, instead barricading themselves in different chunks of text. I hope I've made myself clearer.

Agree with you on your last phrase though, the kind of minimal, clipped prose I see a lot of young authors employ is used indiscriminately for ideas whose execution would be much better off assigned to other styles.

the Knights Templar are a strike force who handle supernatural incursion on earth - they shoot demons. they wear black armor with a cape with white crosses. before operations, they're blessed, individual bullets prayed over and inscribed with the lords prayer. this Commander has perks of psychic fortitude, and zealousness. (Rebuke and Deus Vulte) (Rebuke is a defensive psychic and moral regenerator and defense. Deus Vulte is an offensive charge that grants luck, damage, accuracy, pain threshold)

The Knights Templar was never actually disbanded. they continued throughout the centuries, responding to the threat of hell on earth whenever it appeared. the faithful must be protected from the sort of evil against which their faith alone is of no avail, but which must be vanquished by the acts of those consecrated to holy war in their name.

(scene in white walled scientific command center with lots of screens and technology. alarms go off and techs respond. they discover that there is a supernatural terror attack occuring at the Notre Dame cathedral. alarms go off and extreme activity occurs)

(scene in remote, snowy monastary. though it is an ancient structure, there is technology here. alarms go off and the Templars leap from their beds and run down the corridor, to an elevator, that rapidly descends to a special forces team room.)

(scene in a japanese style zen garden modern office. a director whose face and identity is not revealed recieves a phone call from a rotary phone. he listens without saying a word, and hangs up. he picks up another rotary phone, and spins the dial once. he says, "I am calling you to request emergency Sanction on a Class Four Incursion. Yes. Yes. Thank you.")

(continued)

>>9256029

(scene in a subterranean chapel of the monastary. the Templars are in their gear, sitting on pews. a priest is before them. all are in prayer.)

(scene of a Skyranger in an underground hangar being prepared for takeoff, techs are doing rundowns.)

(scene in the Directors Zen office. he picks up a phone and spins the rotary several times. it rings once, and picks up. he says, "You are Sanctioned." and hangs up, before turning back to his meditation)

(scene in chapel. the phone inside the pulpit rings, and the priest quickly breaks from prayer and picks it up. he listens for a moment and then hangs up. he addresses the Templars, who have rapt attention on him. he says, "are there among you who would fear for their soul?" there is no response from the templars. "then come forward and receive blessing". the templars put their helmets on and rapidly come forward and take a knee in a row before the priest. they present their MP5's)

(scene panning across scenes of the Templars highly modern special forces facility, such as screens inside the Skyranger running down weapons checklists, and a closeup on inscribed blessed bullets. the priests incantations voiceover the pan as he goes from one Templar to the next, and annoints their helmets with a cross of consecrated oil.)

("Blessed be the lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle. Send your heavenly blessings upon these weapons that they may protect your holy church, the poor and the widows, and Your holy inheritance on earth, and make them terrible unto the forces of evil. grant victory to Your Templars for your praise and glory. Let the blessing of the Triune God, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, come down on and remain upon these weapons and those who carry them, for the protection of the truth of Christ and humanity, for whom thou sacrificed thy blameless son. Amen.")

(scene as soldiers stand one by one. the priest returns to the pulpit. he says solemnly "May the father, son, and holy ghost guide your hands true, and be the rock upon which you shall not falter; and in death unto heaven take the fallen in thine name, Réquiem aetérnam dona eis, Dómine: et lux perpétua lúceat eis.
Requiéscant in pace, iter autem nunc vivo in bellum ruentes Deus vult")

(continued)

>>9256035

(scene Templars shout Deus Vult in unison and run aboard Skyranger in hanger through the back of chapel)

(scene at notre dame. it is evening and there is one priest in the front row of the church praying.)

(scene around cathedral as plainclothes Foundation agents direct tourists from the area and agents as utility workers close off area rapidly)

(scene aboard skyranger as Commander gives a rundown. the Skyranger is a twin fuselage quad turbojet superfast transport. the Templars are prepared for a HALO jump directly onto the cathedral. "The breach is estimated at 750 feet in altitude. that's roughly 40 seconds from jump to breach. we'll open chutes around 1:10)

(scene of cathedral from sky about 750 feet above. "Preliminary scans indicate a complete and multiplexed dimensional breach. there will most likely be extreme temporospatial fortifications in place.")

(scene panning 180 from cockpit to cargo bay of Skyranger.)


i was imagining a new game that kind of combined SCP with X-COM, and scripted out a cool intro movie or something for it.

>>9256009

>This is good, write more

Thank you. What about it did you like? I will replicate it again in future.

>>9255589

I liked this. Presumably the protagonist is gonna kill and possibly eat that new girl?

>>9256024

Someone else pointed out that you haven't used paragraphs. I was willing to overlook that for the sake of giving you some feedback. Was that a conscious decision? Why do you not use paragraphs?

>>9256074

Thank you. What about it did you like? I will replicate it again in future.

I have since dropped this story. I don't know about protagonist killing her. But he was certainly going to end up fucking her so as to eventually arrive at some deeper understanding of himself or the world.

>>9256079
I wanted to try my hand at a more kinetic and fluid writing style than I'm used to read, as I felt that the inherent temporal incommensurability between an action and the description of an action could be, maybe, worked around by eroding the textual barriers between narrative voice, descriptions and dialogue. The first draft didn't have any punctuation to signal that a dialogue was taking place. Also, the setting and protagonists give me an excuse to dance around usual narrative conventions as I can work within the drug addled-flow of consciousness framework.
I know it sounds pretentious, in reality I just told myself I want to write F A S T literature.

That and I handed it in as an assignment where the professor, foolishly, gave us a page's space to write instead of a fixed amount of chracters, and I just felt like giving them a slab of text filling every space.

pt.1

Where do you want white people to go so we won't bother you anymore?

You can have europe and north america if you want it. You'll be rich.

The arabs bought way more black slaves from black people in africa than we did, but they cut their dicks off, and they only lasted a year. That is why there aren' t black people in the middle east really. And this is white peolles fault. No i am not kidding. We are to blame because we could have stopped them. Its our fault.

The arabs attacked europe aboyt fourteen hundred times in the dark ages and typically took all the women and fucked them, and killed all the guys, if they won the battle. I AM SO FUCKING SORRY FOR THE CRUSADES. they only attacked us because we're a bunch of inbred racists.

The military had to teach soldiers in afghanistan to not be racist to all the arabs there that fuck boys. Its their culture, and pedophobes are disgusting bigots. It is scientifically proven that if you go real slow, warm her up, maybe lick her clit, and use olive oil as lube, that having marital relations with your child bride will not result in death from internal bleeding.

And who are we to judge, aren't trump supporters all fat twenty something pedophiles who masturbste to japanese anime cartoons depicting children being raped by tentacles? Lol its fucking 2016, wake up you fucking racist loser. Get a life. Get a girlfriend. Oh wait thats right, no girl would ever want touch touch a disgusting racist freak like that.

And guess what you fucking chauvinist pig, you dont have ANY fucking right to shame a girl for being a slut. You don't have ANY right to critisize a woman for being fat. Just because a girl is fat doesnt mean shes not beautiful. EVERYONE is beautiful on the iside which is all that matters.

White males are fucking rapists. This is a known fact. Lots of fucking mansplaining rape culture apologists like to quote fabricated statistics to try and prove that theyre not fucking rapists. All rapists should have their dicks cut off, and then have to suck a BLACK MANS dick in prison. Which by the way is WAY bigger than white dudes pathetic peckets. Theyre so fucking jealous so they compensate by buying fuckine assault rifles so they. Can shhot defenseless kids. And they like to pretend that some shit written by WHITE HETEROSEXUAL SLAVE OWNERS three hundred fucking years ago gives them the right to own machines that arent good for anything except MURDER. You think you can fight the government? Lol fucking idiot.

>>9256112

pt.2

The government always wins against retarded racist sister fucking meth smoking racist trash like all you white people living in trailora. Why? Because everone hates you. You dont even want everyone to have free healthcare. Your time has come EUROPEAN SCUM. Black people arent going to take it anymore. Theyre gonna fucking kill you KKK trash. And you deserve it all. You can NEVER. fucking atone for buying slaves and makung them work.for every time that a white person whipped a black person, a racist white family is gonna die. Lol you thought you could get away with just giving people food stamps? More like slave sramps right? Slave owners fed their slaves barely anything. Just garbage that was left over from the big white person dinner and heated up in the microwave. Black people dont want leftovers. they deserve THE BEST.

Have i left anything out? How about how we made weed illegal just to arrest black people for smoking a NATURAL PLANT. Fucking coward white people arent even brave enough to kill the black people they hate in person. They just send a racist cop to do it for them. Why? Because theyre just scared little dick racist rapists who dont want to pay for everything they have done.

Whats with all these christians, too. Hello, jesus wasnt even white lol, and he said that you shouldnt stone a woman to death for sleeping with whoever she fucking wants to. You gonna cast the first stone? Your not even a big guy. Fucking pussy. A woman has the RIGHT to fuck a bkack man and have half white babies. If she wants to that is. Because a womans body is HERS. A fetus isnt even alive, so who cares if she kills it?


Theres no fucking heaven or hell you tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist right eing christian trump voting racist creationist pedophiles. Its a myth and youre too much of pathetic sheep to not just follow your racist ass honky leaders in whatever bible bullshit they say.global warming is real and it matters because the earth cries out in pain and humanity is doomed now. Evolution is real because scientists said so. You know what science is, you racist? Its just the little thing that proved race isnt even fucking real and all races are equal. Theres no fucking way that black people are dumver than white people. Next youre going to tell me that theres a difference between rotweilers and border collies. Fucking racist idiot. Theres only one race, the human race.

Didnt you know that black people used to be kings in africa and had advanced technology before that evil white savages with tiny dicks stole it from them?

And dont tell me that women cant serve in the military. THEY CAN. ITS 2016. GET ON GHE RIGHT SIDE OF HISTORY.we need women in the army to win wars. A woman has EVERY right to be in the army.

>>9256116

pt.3

White people are imperialists and its all our fault. We are all genocidal freaks and we are going to be bred out of existence like the cowards we are. We make insane murderous tanks and bombs and guns and flying death robots that shoot hellfire missiles at innocent muslims while we sip coffee in air conditioned offices in california, controlling our terrifying technology of murder like its a video game. And if white people fight the racist white government then white cowards will use these death robots and aircraft carriers and m1a1 abrams assault tanks to kill white racist redneck gun nuts. And guess what, the racist white government has fucking nuclear weapons. Try fighting that, you racist christian meth smokers. The white racist government will nuke you white racists and then black people wont have gang violence anymore. Thw black man will be rich kings again and fuck your white women that dont even want you because youre racist trump voting pedophiles with little dicks that no one will eber love. You fucking white lunatics commit mass shootings because you cant get a girlfirend. And you blame it on black people? Grow up. You think youre so brave and tough but real men, african zulu warriors fighting ravist oppresdion by selling crack because white people are racists are real men. They carry illegal pistols in their stylish kanye swag clothing. Looking fresh and fuck the police, ayo wassup mah niggas, lol white people think they tough with their pussy nukes. Ever heard of a little something called "world star hip hop"? Yeah good luck white boy. Black people are going to stomp you and TAKE those nukes. You white people are war mongers and don't need nukes. Hand them over to BLACK LIVES MATTER. or how about islam, the religion of PEACE. By the way. The arabs invented numbers. So basically they invented nukes. Nice move, you homophobic white racist faggot subhumans. Try to take credit for inventing nuclear power, which will kill us all. The arabs invented peaceful numbers and you turned them into devices that can vaporize entire cities. Your time us over, white boy. You owe us reparations, how about you hand over these racist doomsday devices to the peaceful oppressed black people? If you dont, THEN WE BE IN HERE WILIN, NIGGA. I SAID. *W I L E I N* nigga. Fuck you whitey. You enslaved us because we had big dicks and you couldnt please your women. Now you want to tell us not to loot gas stations? Now? After police killed THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY black men in TWO THOUSAND AND SIXTEEN?????? How are black people ever supposed to survive?

>>9256107

Do you not think it's best to master the fundamentals before breaking conventional rules? Of course, I'm presuming you haven't mastered the use of a paragraph. But to claim the opposite would be quite the claim indeed.

>>9256122

pt.4

Fuck you, bigot. You want to build a WALL between the USA and mexico? Thats fucking impossible. Mexicans have every right to be in america. Rich republican businessmen are just trying to replace lower class americans with all their expectations of a decent life with even lower class mexicans who dont have any expectations of a decent life. Thata fucking racist. Donald trump wants to deport mexicans because hes angry that mexicans want their land back because they dont have enough land and they want a living wage and white people wont gice it to them. If it wasnt for white people healthcare and college would be free. So then people wouldnt be sick or stupid. But white racists who dont resoect women want to blame being fat on eating too much and they want to blame being stupid on watching tv instead of reading books and tinkering with electronics. Books are expensive, they cost ten dollars and thats as much of a pack of smokes that old white men sell even though they know that people will get addicted. And real niggas dont do that nerdy white person electronics shit. Aint no nigga gonna read no label ofa fucking one of them plugs for your phone n shit. Nigga, play basketball, the fuck is you gay or something? Thats what a stupid whute racist thibks. He thinks that black people hate gay people and call them faggots because he watches fox news. Its called brainwashing.

Speaking of brainwashing, how can you even think that trump isnt hitler. Because gas chambers are just rooms with wooden doors and not heavy steel vessels with bolts an hermetic sealing as well as aparatus for administering zyklon B to the poor oppressed jewish people. And if you doubt that the holocaust really happened... Then jail isnt good enough for you. You should be MADE to believe. You should be TAUGHT BY FORCE that hitler was the bad guy who started world war 2 to kill all the jews and take over the world because he was satan incarnate, the embodiment of hatred. Just like donald trump.

>>9256125

Donald trump only cares about money. Hello! Hes a fucking greedy pig with bad hair, who is running for president to get more money. But hes so damned dumb that he didnt realize he could have just purchase an index fund and have made more money. Lol that idiot fucking built hotel and shit instead of investing in wall street. Because he's a nazi that hates jews.so he didnt invest in the massive multinatiobal rothschild scheme to rule the world.not because he preferred to build hotels and stuff but because he's an evil jazi that hates jews, and 99% of the wealthiest 1% are jewish. What a fucking idiot. He didnt even accomplish anything. His dad just gave him a MILLION. FUCKING. DOLLARS. Thats at least enough to purchase a sweet mansion back then. I could make 3rd en billion with a million dollars too. But donald trump went bankrupt 4 times lol yayo fucking midget hand faggot racist trump. He is nothing more than a super wealthy pig who is 70 years old and is running for president to make a lot of money. What a retarded scumbag... Does he really think he can go up against hillary? She's backed by jewish bankers with big ducks who have HUNDREDS of billions of dollars. What the hell does this bankrupt old man think he can do to fight that kind of POWER? Occupy wall street. Im with her. Power to the people. We need to do something about these white people with guns wearing tin foil hats and thinking they government is out to get them. Fucking idiots. You cant fight predator drones. And the eacist white government is either going to give black people a lot of money, and never shoot the lm again, or guess what? The blacks are going to rise up and kill whitey, and consensually have sex with white women who already wanted to have sex with big dick blacks even before the racist government and black lives matter kicked their shit in like the weaklings they are.

White people need to be stopped from being racist and oppressing black people or the racist white government will use the evil white man death robots and sick serial killer genocide techniques to kill all the racist white rednecks who think that black peopke and the government are out to get them. Thats what you fucking get for treating black people bad, cracker. White people are literally the reason why there is war on earth and have spent three thousand years commiting mass slaughter with nazi efficiency and voodoo coward weapons. And now, black people are gonna EXTERMINATE white people. We gunna invent exploding watermelons and put armor on our spinning rims and turn newport cigarettes into blow guns with lethal frog poison darts that black people made while they were camping.

>>9256130

that was pt.5

this is pt.6 of 6

And you know how black people are going to defeat the satanic jesus freak republican funded military industrial complex? You know how they're gonna turn our fancy white boy tanks and bombers and nukes and unstoppable death drones, against the cumskin fuccboi white faggot racists? Niggers are going to invent nigger anime and cuckhold porn. Niggers did 9/11. And those pasty little weak white punks are going to spend their whole lives playing video games and fucking their hand bevause we fucked their head in school, we turned white girls into liberated proud in dependent feminist women, so all these stupid white bois who were taught that they're racists will never get girls and theyll sink into depression and well give them fucking amphetamines or antipsychotics mental casteation pills when theyre 8 years old because he's got to he in school because theres no one at home because mom and dad both have to work because women are strong liberated heros and the man earning the money and the woman cooking food and cleaning is a sexist victimization of women. So we have to make both men and women work so instead of paying a man (provably white) 2 dollars we oay them both one dollar and their kids are completely in the states power to teach them that they cant get girls because thats racist so they should jerk it to cartoons about horses instead, so jow they are pedophiles and ugly freaks that deserve to die in the exact same way that black lives matter deserve a preadtor drone.

And people will fucking believe this. Fuck you. You have no clue what the fuck you are doing or talking about. You are going to start a race war you fucking idiot. And then blame it on white people. You want to see what racism looks like? Look in the fucking mirror, you stupid nigger.

>>9256123
While I'd generally agree with you, I don't feel there's any proper heuristic protocol to master in regards to literature to justify avoiding any experiment before becoming a "master of the craft" - a term I'm not even sure means anything, in this field, other than a passing adherence to this or that value hierarchy.
I should also add, perhaps, that English is my second language and it's much more dynamic and flexible than my native tongue (Italian), a fact that led me to experiment much more than I'd have done otherwise, especially with the general inner rhythm of a text.

>>9255914

you do a good job making me feel squalrous.

One mirthful morning, Molly Mancer set out on a stroll through Amity Park with a pine picnic basket and a motley umbrella. The fresh air serviced her convalescence, as she had just begun her recovery from a particularly traumatizing incident.

Her son—who never shirked the thrill of mischief for his entire adolescent life—had gotten into a spat with some street boys. He was shooting hoops, relaxin, maxin, when all of a sudden, some people started making trouble in the neighborhood. Twelve young lives were cut down by police gunfire that day, and, fearing for her dear son's safety and upbringing, Molly sent her son to live in Bel Air, where he would experience a friendlier environment.

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>>9255589

I am the above poster. Pic related is some writing that I did just now. I'm aiming for one-hundred words per day, for the moment, before gradually increasing that to 250 - 500 words per day. I just want consistency for the moment.

Pic related took me about fifteen minutes to write, so it might be helpful for some other writers here to see how another writer's first ideas look.

You need only pay attention to the final paragraph. The other paragraphs are like a run up; a rehashing until it feels right.

I posted the rest of this in a critique thread a few days back. I just woke up and wrote this for the second chapter:

Dickran sat on his porch playing his backup cello, an electric model that looked like a skeletal outline of a cello instrument, with pickups and electronics along the middle bit which, if this were an actual skeleton, would be the spine. He played it, and he played it well, but it was automatic. There was no soul or feeling. No sound either because he did not plug the thing in, but that didn’t change anything. Dickran was playing sad music, with sad feelings, with no expression, on an instrument that felt like a sidewise viola to him.
He was of course shaken by the death of his bandmates, but more so by the loss of Pattie, his cello. They had probably been together --him and Pattie, for fifteen, maybe twenty years, and he’d met her, it, in an antique store in Barcelona; back when his parents were still alive, three years prior to his moving in with his aunt, and five years prior to his joining the band. Before meeting Pattie, Dickran played, albeit quite awkwardly, a standard sized cello. This skeletal figure of an instrument that he played now was the saddest thing he had ever touched and regretted ever giving away his other 4/4 to the Goodwill, and regretted even more, saying When will I ever use this thing again? Never! Pattie’s going to be with me forever!
He continued playing Donna Lee and sobbing.

#106

You will learn nothing if you do not go outside.

This is true.

The whole of the world's achievements can be viewed, read, downloaded, and watched online

But you will never feel the wind this way.

>>9255955
What you have is more of a treatment at this stage, than a story. To become a story, you need a character. You have personages, but none of them are developed or labeled. None of them are "signified." There is a suggestion of a plot, and suggestion of conflict - a quest story for a resting place, an adventure of violence ending in a search for shelter, but they are sketched as yet.

I spent most of the thing preparing a series of assertions about how vampires are so done, and there is nothing really left, the trend has arc-ed itself out, but then with the revelation that these are not really vampires, I decided you have enough kernel of an idea to reply and let you know that I would like to see how this gets handled when you decide to develop it into a story.

>>9256282
This was fucking stupid and I really liked it

The fences add a lot, an awful lot. Without them nobody would know where to go, or what’s there, or what purpose the land and its constituent compartments have. Sheep would scatter over the country with nothing to bound them, ravaging every piece of grass or leafy greenery. The houses are of those who manage these fences, and the animals between them, and the land they divide. One man’s land must be made of many parts, each of different purposes, as is the man’s life. If a man runs a farm and fences the land from east to west and north to south and looks down, what he sees will disgust him, it’s not natural. Seeing this place as a human settlement and not as a miniaturised labyrinth of paths, fences, drystone walls, bogs, streams, tracks, telegraph poles, rockfaces, reedbeds, scrap coagulations and sculptures, dipping pens, treelines and ditches is a preposterous idea conceived only by the most conceited cartographers. To the lost tourists, the ones just “passing through,” etc., and all the rest who don’t live here, this may not be apparent, but to some people, maybe just one man, or woman, the truth is apparent, the truth of the village which is not mentioned again in name but stays fully animated in our minds, the apparent land of fences.
Now let’s fill this place with houses, with people; reverse, refract and negate the previous maxims of this place, heretofore mentioned. A house here, a house there, the fences remain but between them paths are laid, dirt tracks, leading to houses. A complete reappropriation of the land by people is conducted until the village becomes just that - a village, still with its labyrinths and signature markings, its ditches and junk sculpting and trees, but with people. This is a town.
>>9255006
too purple. you can pull this off if you focus more on consonance/assonance and the general sound/feel of the prose.
>>9255589
id cut down some of the adjectives but this is good, reminds me of delillo a bit.
>>9256029
>>9256035
>>9256044
itstimetostop.jpg
>>9256437
>tfw to intelligent for internet

>>9256870
Oh no, it's not about being too smart for the Internet. The meaning is far less meaningful, it's kind of dumb really. It's quite literally about not bring able to described the wind.

It was a clear dark night and I was restless. Far from the town and on the lonely shore was our sleepy home. The night was unpolluted: The only lights offered up to the sky were those from fishing vessels just off the horizon. It was the perfect atmosphere for stargazing.

I quietly rolled a cigarette from loose papers and tobacco stolen from my mother's ashtray. The tobacco stunk of tar and sea water, but since I wasn't old enough to buy my own and I wanted to keep my habit secret it would have to do. With my religiously rolled cigarette I opened the window and climbed out onto the roof, reaching back inside to grab the matchbook I kept near the windowsill for incense. I struck the sulfur and lit the joint stuck in to my mouth. I always admired the smell of a match, and sorely missed it when the vapors of a burning cigarette overpowered it. If they had match-flavored cigarettes I would buy them, and if not maybe I'll patent my own version someday.

From the roof I could see the filled sky, the massive expanse of quiet bright lights. I had heard the city was filled with bright lights too, and so I had gone there last summer. They didn't compare, nor did they have the same luster as the stars do. Perhaps it was the people, and that enjoying something beautiful was a private matter, something you keep to yourself and reflect upon. The stars reflected dimly on the sea’s shore, scattered by the minute swells as they crashed towards the rocky beach. They were so small and so far away. I held up my cigarette to compare luminosity, but how, I thought, could I compare it to a star? Those powerful telescopes on Mauna Loa see them much more clearly than me. I wonder if they understood those celestial bodies better, too.

Below me the porch light came on, and then appeared my mother in her cream-colored robe. Busted.

>>9257070
oh nice. i think it works better in that respect.
>>9257129
uh yeah this is nice but i really think you could change "cream-colored robe" to just "creamed robe" it flows much better that way.

>>9257141
Done.

Next Part:

"What are you doing out so late at night? Is that a cigarette? Matt!"

"Look at the stars, Ma" I interrupted "Look at how tiny they are!"

"Are you in your boxers? Put on some pants before you catch a cold" she said "and put out the cigarette!"

"Ma you smoke way more than me, and I'm almost old enough to buy my one. Let finish it first. We can spend some time together out here"

She sighed, and went back into the house without closing the door. She returned a moment later with a lot cigarette in hand.

"Did you take my ashtray? Is that where you got that? And why smoke outside, you should come in and smoke if you really want to talk"

"I just really like the stars Ma. Just look at them. Look at them and see how tiny we are, how very little we look in their reflection"

She paused and looked up for a moment, then returned her gaze up to the roof to look at me.

"Are you on pot or something, Matt?"

"No Ma." I groaned “Christ!”

"You're acting strange. Do you have a fever or something? You really should put on some clothes if you're going to stay out here"

"Yes Ma" I replied

She always worried about me. I didn't have many friends at school. I guess she felt a bit guilty on account of how far away my home was and I didn't want to bother inviting friends over such a long drive. We lived on the shore of Netarts, Oregon, which was a tiny village outside a tiny town on the West coast. My Dad and my Ma had built an oyster business here, and had requisitioned a home to be built on the property adjoining the oyster hatchery. It always reeked of the salty, muddy, low tide bay.

The smell infected the air and our clothing and our shoes with that selfsame sea smell that soaked Ma's spent cigarettes. Her smokes always seemed bent and fouled by the sea and stuck to the package like it stuck to her Hodgemans .

"Don't stay out too late. You have work tomorrow, remember" she said, pinching the embers out and tossing the butt into the ground.
"And bring the ashtray back in, I really like that ashtray you made."

She turned and walked inside, the door closed behind her with a resounding click and slam of the screen door. Moments later the light went dark and I looked back to the sky.

>>9257156
change "are you on pot" to "are yawn pot" and "netarts, oregon" to "retard, oregon"

>The smell infected the air and our clothing and our shoes with that selfsame sea smell that soaked Ma's spent cigarettes. Her smokes always seemed bent and fouled by the sea and stuck to the package like it stuck to her Hodgemans .
this is the best bit. also dont repeat the word "door" in the second to last sentence

>>9257166
Netarts is an actual place tho :( They have good oysters.

>>9256088

I liked the wet outside contrasting with the dry inside. Particularly the plant pot line. Otherwise it was just the kinda prose I like - lots of imagery and shit.

Combine that with a plot, good characters and you might just be able to knock up a decent novel. Congrats.

>>9257181
sometimes you gotta break the rules dude

>>9257141
Thanks. Is there any way to make people not over analyze it?

>>9257269
idk using somewhat forceful language to convey a message such as yours can result in that, eg a statement such as "You will learn nothing if you do not go outside."

to convey something abstract you should utilise more abstract language. have the language convey the meaning/message.

>>9257222
Ah I suppose so.

The story is about a sculptor who is always frustrated and self conscious; He eventually receives wordwide acclaim as the next Michaelangelo but he resents it. He is tapped to build an important world monument in Greece , but as the story develops he begins to resent the demands of a world that doesn't understand his creations and only admiring them for the outward beauty.

The opening part is supposed to be a baptism of sorts into the work of life being unloved and unappreciated. It's cliche, I know, but I'm going off the advice that to build a great novel you must have a great subject, and what better subject than a poor boy growing up to build the 8th world wonder?

>>9257324
she came from greece she had a thirst for knowledge
she studied sculpture at st martins college

honestly though it sounds good, reminds me a little of the recognitions

>>9257337

Don't make it Retard Oregon. That's fucking stupid.

Also the religiously rolled cigarette from your first post was a bit overwrought. The alliteration isn't deserved but I see what you're going for.

Overall you're a compelling writer, but you seem like you're putting on someone's clothes. If you are, then don't - but if you're not, then tighten up the language a bit. Revise it more.

>>9257337
>Don't make it Retard Oregon. That's fucking stupid.
shit the fuck off nigger

>>9257371
meant for >>9257337

>>9257377
ive done it again mother

>>9255688
Walk before you run, anon

An ace in the military, Rupert Aceae knew acedia. His hands looked acellular, looking stiff from war. He was aceous of the stereotypical “veteran,” wearing his dog tags and wearing a shirt depicting acephalous reading. His teeth acerbated you. They were too damn shiny, like he cared. The acerbity of his nature was Achaean in intimidation. He had those squinted eyes like he was suffering from achalasia. Guy was smart though. Would ache and make his own story for it. Would turn the game you were playing into some a cheval festival. He achieved some great achievements while in Iraq, like some damned Achilles. His Achilles heel was his own ego. Acidic acid-head. Buys LSD in town, his acidophilic sheets. Pictures of ack-acks were on his wall, and when acknowledged, Rupert would show the acme of his career with hand motions.
“Iraq. 2004. Bit of acne on my forehead, as my crew flew over the Desert. I was acock in my seat, looking down at the acre-foots below me. Already smelled some damn acrimony before I got in the plane. Knew it was gonna be bad. So our planes lift, you know? Like acrobats our planes flipped n’ soared. Nanners took the 09’, swipin’ by the aconites and the acorns. Zoomed past air acold. We bombed them acorn worms. We heard the acoustics zoom inside our ears, already acquainted with it.”
The listener would then, most likely, acquiesce in acquaintance. It’d take an aquired sort of patience to listen to his monologues. He’d tell you things like, “acquired immunodeficiency syndrome is for the gays. God’ll keel em.”
Acquisition of his trait labeled you an asshole. Maybe something lesser.
Rupert was acquitted from the military for his acrophobia.
His teeth were separated by an acre-inch.
He came up to me, which made me notice his acrocentric posture.
“I know your by your acrolect you’re from here.”
His smiles broke like some sort of acromegaly. WTF?[1]


[1] Antonym; means "what the fuck?"; used commonly among the human males. Class: offensive

>>9257292
Okay! Changes have been made.

You can learn everything without going outside

This is mostly true.

The whole of the world's achievements can be viewed, read, heard, and watched online

But you can will feel the wind this way

For ten long years I've watched the clastic rocks within this forest. They were compliant to be sculpted by time's chisel and nature's will. Now the forest consumes all and yields nothing, yet they still come and will never stop coming.

His plants thrived in blood and bone. Not one Earthly location could contest the evocative sensation of weariness offered by the forest. For ten long years they would come and we would watch as they starved themselves to death, for there were no animals or edible vegetation allowed in the continent he called "the forest". My brother created this place, and in doing so he killed millions. In a society that has existed without strife for hundreds of years, no one could resist a concept as extraneous as a challenge.

>>9257422
id change "online" to something else because that makes it feel like a commentary on the internet. aside from that its looking good anon.

>>9257434
Alright, I'll sit on it for a while and see what I can think up. Thank you.

>>9257416
fuck, meant acronym. spell check brushed by my eyes too quickly

Potato skinned girls selling weed to get your attention.
I am fine, but thank you
They think the same
"Yes, you sure are fine"
Oh if only you knew!
My fear of the dark
Irish music 24/7
I'll talk your ear off about the books I've read and bore you to death with bad poetry.
They have yet to be disappointed.
I have yet to disappoint them.

>>9257357
Putting on someones clothes? You mean writing from someone elses experience?

And thank you for the compliment. I'll work on tightening the language up.

You could mash all these comments together and it would still be better than Infinite Jest.

>>9257404
That's not helpful here, because you have no idea about where people are up to outside of the attempts they share here. You think people can't practice running here until... What? You going to set a curriculum for crit threads before people are allowed to try the more advanced styles?

File: Raptus+of+Proserpina+by+Bernini+at+the+Borghese+Gallery.jpg (149KB, 1000x797px) Image search: [Google]

149KB, 1000x797px

http://pastebin.com/rHYG3hnq

This is the first two chapters of the story.

I forgot to post my critiques with my pastebin posted right above.

>>9257416

I like the wild use of alliteration in every sentence. Its cool as an experimental type. I don't think you need to annotate WTF but there could be a purpose to it that I don't know.

>>9256870
>treelines and ditches

Put a period here and start the next sentence with "It is a ..." The sentence reminds me of Finnegan's Wake.

>>9256368
>skeletal outline of a cello instrument
Change this to "its skeleton" it will make the next clause sound better.

>on an instrument that felt like a sidewise viola to him.

cut this.

>of course

and this

>This skeletal figure

change to "The skeleton". It will help with your overall theme of death and loss and emptiness.

>He continued playing Donna Lee and sobbing.

Revise slightly to "He continued playing Donna Lee while sobbing"

>>9258733
>Put a period here and start the next sentence with "It is a ..."
i might split it up but doing that would mean cutting off the sentence without it resolving.
>The sentence reminds me of Finnegan's Wake.
is this a good thing???????

>>9258980
yes its a good thing. There are parts of FW that have beautiful imagery split by commas like you have done.

>>9258991
thanks dude. reading your piece now, didnt notice it earlier.

>>9258688
this is aight. i prefer some of the wording in the intro to how it was earlier in the thread. the dialogue could have some work done on it but its good overall, the prose has a nice balance between not being too bare/dry and not being too purple/ornate.

>>9255006

You got to fix some of your sentences. Lots of run on and it's hard to follow but I think it could go places. It is ornate and that is bad in the current context but if you fix up your sentences, I think it could work.

>>9259075

Thanks. I'm trying not to write a YA but as I'm getting through chapter three it feels like that's where I'm headed >.> I feel like I should add more esoteric words to it to beef up the language, or to add in something explicit and grotesque later on. I dunno, I'm just sorta going with it.

Similar story to yours Mr Cuckson. I’d managed to clock off work early the other day and decided to head down to the local to catch the aflw game! No sooner had I entered the alehouse I was struck by a heavy, oppressive atmosphere; I looked around at the patrons and happened to notice that the women were slouched over their drinks with their heads facing down. Taking an unoccupied seat by the bar and next to one of the ladies I managed to glean that a large group of men had walked in and turned off the women’s AFL game they were watching! Not changed the channel to another sport, but actually turned their television off so that they could not watch it! The men ostensibly proceeded to berate the women for supporting an ‘inferior’ product! I could not believe the account that I was hearing, how does such a thing happen and in the current year no less? The young women continued to say that the men said that they would return after ‘doing the rounds’ of other pubs in the area. From what I gathered she meant that the group of men were checking pubs in the area to shut off the showing of women’s afl games. Apparently all of the men, save one had left. The sole remaining practitioner of the deed most foul was going to hear it from me! As I strode down the bar to confront him, I realized that I may be out of my depth. He was an enormous man of impressive stature and must have stood seven feet tall as he rose to greet me. I decided that he must have a piece of my mind, no matter how intimidating he was. I began to shoot off points including statistics of the women’s game and how it actually compares quite favorably to the men’s game. In a single smooth motion however, he pulled my scarf so tight that I could no longer breathe and I am reliably informed that my eyes were bulging out of my head. The brute of a man then whispered something into my ear. It shocked and terrified me beyond anything I had ever experienced; all this as I still couldn’t breathe! That is the last thing I can remember of the whole sordid affair. When I came to, the man was gone and the women I had spoken to earlier had called the police. They eventually came and I gave them what information I could, supposedly I haven’t been the first victim of such brutality and malice, there has been a spate of ‘scarfings’ in recent times, since around the time the aflw commenced, but the police believe the attacks are unrelated. *sigh* And so I said my parting words to the nice lady, and she in turn gave me some useless, though thoughtful platitudes. I then commenced walking, but not home you see. No. Can’t do that. NEVER. For those words whispered into my ear by the man, that curious specimen were as follows:

>>9259585
Fantastic production out of this story and the cliffhanger leaves me wanting more. What did he say to poor T.cuckson

>>9259673
The great thing about my slice of life lovecraftian terror story that actually happened to me is that you can leave it to your imagination, but I believe what he said was that he would roger my wife's ring in front of me in my house, and he knew where I lived somehow.

>>9259686
Sounds like a good night out to me

>>9259692
Well, perhaps I should take him up on his offer, after-all, who wants to be perceived as over possessive of their wife in this current year no less?

>>9259702
You truly are a gentleman

There existed no shape unto the valley until the dogs came. There existed no names unto the hills,except for those names whispered by the wind as it passed. The natives therein saw each day a land anew,a countenance well shaped by the fingers of the lordess. When the dogs came,they tamed the land at point of bayonet,and loosed the wind from their throats to describe her features. Upon her face they built their cities and roads,and tucked her form into the folds of a map. Thereafter came a day whereby stroke of pen mandated their leave. As that day approached,there did fall a great rain.
With the wash there fell away the promise of peace,and the lives of many a good man. Among them was colonel Gaan Sterf,dead from bullet of child soldier,whose corpse was hauled by the two witnesses to his death. The duo blazed down the valley in a Cheval Leger,and in the backseat rode a bag. And inside that bag,smothered by hundreds of bullets was the body of Colonel Gaan Sterf. All the way to the city he once called home,his body bounced.
Looking as the glowing end of a cosmic cigarette,the sun dipped into the black horizon. The two would sometimes see a deej child scurry across the tall grass,pouncing on small game or picking tubers from the dirt. Their car criss-crossed the plains,wheels squelching and stinking of shit as they passed over the morass,born of fetid water.

>>9256112

I have no fucking idea what this was all about fucking seriously dude you can't be a competent political theorist or philosopher or some shit if all you spit is letterbound diahrreah

>>9255589
I remember you. Still not a fan of a few sentences there, but altogether pretty vivid. You're doing alright, senpai.

Poem I shat out the other day after reading some Uberfacts post. Dividing it into parts was probably a bad decision, and the conclusion is too weak and bawdy to be worth it, but I'm fine with sharing my throwaways.

Lovesong

I
Here I am, in a field of grass
with the love of my life, her head next to my head, her hand in my hand.
And we're looking up at the stars.
The shooting stars, streaking and flashing across the inkwell, the two of us down here in the firmament.
And we're existing, breathing, feeling, -together! - right now, and we're able to for the next 50 years or so, out of the other 30 billion this world has to it.
And we're looking at the stars.

II
The next day, I'm online
and I see a post from some millenial site
that says that most shooting stars are really feces from astronauts
on the International Space Station.
"Your wishes
were really made on a turd
instead of a star"
it concludes,
And I gasp.

III
I call out to the love of my life
To tell her about this epiphany,
But she doesn't answer.
She's gone now.
The last time I wished upon a star,
I got her, my greatest wish.
But moments end. Stars hide. People change, And grim realities
Show themselves.
But now i know that when change comes, its not my fault
That things went to shit
In the end

>>9259724
oh fuck writing this out on a phone was NOT a good idea

>>9259730
Why?

>>9259730
since im the one who wrote it i notice things the reader wont (thats just universal im not saying im some Kubrickesque perfectionist or something), and some of the line lengths are just unbearable to look at

>>9259724
There's no chord progression.
There's no chorus.

How am I supposed to play this lovesong?

>>9259873
the cure was playing when i made the post, hombre

>>9259585
I love the political satire. Truly, a gift from /pol/

>>9259879
Fuck I started playing it as goldfinger

if you want more specific critique, tell me

>>9255006
this is how people write when they never actually read and just feel a "need to express themselves"
>>9255589
started out as an awkward scene study, ended up as a half-baked porno
>>9255611
literally the easiest form of writing to do well and you fucked it up anon
>>9255914
readable, but not engaging. sounds like you're writing a movie scene rather than prose
>>9256112
cute!!
>>9256282
i should have stopped reading as soon as i saw the alliteration
>>9256290
sounds like you're describing a painting to a blind person, nothing literary about this
>>9256368
first paragraph has a nice emotional pace but the second paragraph is just gottagofast plot revelation with no actual weight or tact
>>9256437
if you're a 15yo girl, this is good, keep it up
>>9256870
i like the foundation you're working with but this sounds like a junkie ex-educator ranting outside a bodega. you are writing about the tendency of men to separate his routine, land, thoughts, etc. into discrete objects, yet you're rambling
>>9257129
come on, this is full of technical/logical errors. also, write what you know
>>9257141
>creamed robe
BLS NO MORE ADVISE
>>9257156
ma ma ma, ma mamara ann
>>9257416
footnote made me laff, fun to read but not respectable
>>9257426
doesn't make sense geologically or narratively
>>9257457
i'm disappointed, anon.
>>9259585
posting what jumped out to me as i skimmed
>Cuckson
>AFL
>deed most foul
>he pulled my scarf so tight i couldn't breathe
>a spate of 'scarfings'
this is good, no critiques
>>9259713
you didn't have a big imagination as a child
>>9259724
>literally ending with 'the end'
WEWEWEWEWEW

Late in the amber evening, when the air of the university library thickens with the exhaustion of a thousand drooping heads, I would slip into the elevator behind the periodicals and wait for the custodian. At that hour the libary's mandatory silence succumbs to a more terrible one, formed from the quiet lethargy felt while existing during the decay of another day, mixed with the paralyzing anticipation of life tomorrow. In the cool metal of the elevator I would make myself as small as possible, sometimes even succeeding in disappearing altogether.

I would wait for the custodian for fifteen minutes, an hour, maybe two, and then all at once he would be with me, unzipping his pants with one hand while swatting with the other at the button for the top floor. Through practice I am skillful on my knees, and it only takes five trips up and down until he finishes. During the endeavor he stares fixedly up at the grimy ceiling, and after his release only on the floor, never once meeting my desperate gaze.

For years we have been meeting in the dingy elevator, and our transaction has an intricate code of conduct to prove it. After I pay the standard fare, we exit on different floors to avoid embarassment for him. If he happens to leave on the third floor, where my secret hovel is encased in a maze of non-fiction shelves, I politely cede my territory for his peace of mind, and curl up that night beneath a blanket of Spanish fiction in a distant wing of the library.

Momentarily I can make him love me, but ultimately he despises how I use him, although his entire life is simply another use by another entity. I have tried to convey this to him through subtle bodily movements, but he never...

Clang, Clang... In the distance the bell tower tolls, marking the end of my fantasy with its punctual chime. In the library, the custodian, immune to every stench yet imagined, empties one garbage bag into another and carries it away over his shoulder, never meeting my desperate gaze.

>>9260007
ex-night-shift-librarian here, inaccurate because all library staff generally use the utility elevator and you would get caught. pretty good otherwise, you pervert

>>9260021
is there a way to fix lack of childhood imagination

>>9259998
Cheers bud, I didn't think so.

Posting something I wrote in french (not my native language), hope someone can give me some critique. I don't write, this is for a project I have to do at school, the text is going to be accompanied by pictures and drawings.

C'était une de ces calmes soirées d’été chez mes grand parents. Je me souviens que j'étais dans le petit couloir mal éclairé qui menait au séjour et que la voix monotone du téléjournal de 20:30, que mon grand-père, les yeux cloués à la télé, suivait religieusement, servait de fond quand mon père me proposa de l’accompagner à la chasse le lendemain. Je fus rempli de joie, je pouvai enfin participer à cette activité tellement abstraite et floue dans ma tête et qui remplissait d'éclats les yeux de mon père a chaque fois que quelqu'un l’informait à la table de manger que tel ou tel espèce d’oiseaux, dont noms portaient d'étranges sonoritées à mon oreille d’enfant, était de passage et chassable à tel ou tel endroit.

>>9255006
I like the style you have going here but sometimes it just doesn't flow good. There is just too much sometimes.


The sky blended into the ground. He felt like he was a force of nature, if anything would be in his path it wouldn't matter. He would just run through it. A brick wall, no problem at all.

In front of him, the man in the grey jacket was hit by a car, the window cracked. Complete stop, heel grinding against the ground. The man in the grey (now torn) jacket rolled over and leaped up again. He didn't know if he was disappointed that the chase could have ended there or if he was relieved that he would continue to have this primordial instinct inside of him, possessing his limbs, moving them without thought. They began again.

Their elongated shadows flowed against the tall white bleached walls of the alley. The man in the torn grey jacket had begun to slow down. He seemed to suddenly realize how hurt he actually was. With this comprehension the man's leg started acting up, it too realizing that maybe it was kind of broken, he tried to balance himself, jerking back and forth. The man fell into a puddle. Laying in the waste of the city he twisted and turned like a worm, his jacket now absorbing the filth around him. The man in the torn and dirty grey jacket screamed. Words of excuse. It all had the same meaning.

"Someone else, not me!"

He raised his hand elegantly against the man lying like a small, hurt child in the water, the ocean. In his grip, a revolver. His mind went away, he imagined himself being "The killer". Not just himself. Something universal. A mythic figure. Something that exists outside of man. But it was his earthly finger that pulled the trigger.


I haven't written anything in many years so this is fucking trash but i would still appreciate any comments

>>9259998
>i like the foundation you're working with but this sounds like a junkie ex-educator ranting outside a bodega. you are writing about the tendency of men to separate his routine, land, thoughts, etc. into discrete objects, yet you're rambling
yeah bro its ironic and epic or something but thanks anyway
>>creamed robe
>BLS NO MORE ADVISE
how about you shut the shit bitch

>>9259998
>not respectable
No? That's one of the "comedic" parts but there are some other narratives I've got that are crafted pretty well (in my old mans opinion)
It's an experimental novel but I was wondering if this sort of comedic relief is just too "not respectable" like you said. What makes something to the point that it is respected yet still "funny?"

>>9260644
I don't know how to explain it but sometimes your sentences feel stilted, as though they somehow don't fit together. Maybe write in slightly longer sentences and use more clauses? The descriptions are fine, if anything I'd say be more adventurous, sometimes they come off a little quotidian (like a worm...that's too obvious).

When he rose from her sex, the smell stuck firmly to his eyebrows. His knees had been reddened by the bedsheets, rough like a doormat, and while he felt guilty for stopping, he needed to stand up to stop his knees from seizing. The colder air that filled his lungs made him dizzy.
Their eyes met as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Can you keep going?" She flashed him a quick, playful smile.
He leant over and inserted a finger. She moaned. Had they been nearer to each other she would have dug her fingernails into the flesh of his back. Earlier he had kissed her breasts, after running his tongue along her neck. They were small, girlish little mounds; they suited her supple, tight little body, which struck him as curiously hairless. As his tongue parted her lips he felt the walls of her cunt against his fingers. She moaned insistently, the volume steadily increasing, peaking with each thrust. Her moans were light and beautiful, and he felt the hint of a sob at the back of his throat while his cock stiffened at her sounds. They had started as hums, consonants pressed against her closed mouth, now they were round, clear vowels, modulating up and down as he took his tongue to her neck, which was soft and warm. He took in the smell of her beautiful flesh as his fingers parted her labia. She was wet and he could smell it intermingling with the scent of her neck, the vague odour of red wine and chocolate in her breath. He removed his shirt and entered her soft cunt, her breath in his ear coming in hot bursts and purrs.

>>9261320

>Her sex

Oh hi George

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>>9259998
tl;dr this guy

>>9259998

>derides everyone he references
>contributes fuck all of his own writing
>his own writing is shit tier
>he derides other, better writers because he feels inadequate
>you can't kek this shit up

BLOOOOOOOWN OUT!

>>9259998
>come on, this is full of technical/logical errors. also, write what you know

I'm well aware you can't see the reflection of stars on moving water. I was making it a point to say how the narrator viewed the world, as exemplified by the conversation with his mom. Also, the roof is a real place I wrote from memory.

>>9261991

You can see the reflection of stars on moving water. It's not an impossibility.

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>>9262129

Not possible. What you will see is the reflection of the moon on the water as its broken up into little pieces at the water's crests and swells. I'm alluding to these little swells in the writing.

Pic related

>>9262142

If it was a starry night, and I was stood with a puddle at my feet, I could look at the puddle, being moved by the wind, and see the reflection of the stars overhead reflected in the puddle.

>>9262146
A bay is not a puddle, nor is the ocean. I've stood watches in the middle of the Pacific where you could see the whole Milky Way because the ship was running dark. You can't see the stars in the water no matter how hard you try (though you might see luminescent plankton as it gets tossed about in the ship's wake which is pretty cool to see).

The whole point of it all is to show how the narrator see's things that aren't really there.

>>9262163

Oh, in the case of large expanses like the ocean then I agree.

>>9262167
:] the book is coming along nicely. Ive decided to take a surreal turn with it. The protagonist thought he was going to a university but he was picked up by a college associate where he will be cast into a whirlpool in the sea that drags him down into a mausoleum filled with carvings and lost art. He meets with the curator and is taught the classics and how to create the most perfect and beautiful pieces of art the world has ever seen. After 20 years of studying he returns from the sea and begins to share his ability to the world but the world can't understand him anymore; it's been robbed of art and beauty and everyone exists solely for instant gratification.

“C’mon Jess! We have to get moving! You said you wanted to get this done today, right?”

Their destination was one they knew well— the event center a few miles out of town. It wasn’t originally meant to be one. 40 years ago, it was a warehouse for a local division of a shipping company that went out of business after the copper boom ended. The town’s coffers were still full from the boon, so they put the money to use and bought the building. It sat around for another two decades until the new administration discovered the warehouse and put policy into place so that it could be used. They partitioned the warehouse with two walls: one in the front, creating an area for a lobby and restrooms, and the other in the back, for storage. They also replaced the ladder to the roof in their new backstage area with a proper stairwell. Since then, the warehouse has been host to over a dozen performances by b-grade comedians and has-been rock bands. more recently, it has also housed the triannual Artisans’ Market.

The Artisans’ Market was originally to be called a Farmers’ Market, but the administrators wanted it to be as inclusive as possible. For a flexible fee, anyone with goods or services to sell could buy a booth space. Performers like Jess and Renée would sometimes purchase multiple spaces so they could set up a stage and earn some tips, but the publicity was what really mattered. When parents saw their children’s faces lighten as they watched Douglas Dog and Caroline Cat bicker with and playfully torment each other, many became infatuated with the act themselves, and hired them to entertain at parties. Jess and Renée loved their performances just as much as the kids did. They moved in together after high school, best friends with a shared interest in acting, and had since spent cumulative weeks practicing pratfalls and writing scripts after finishing with their “real” jobs. In just one year, the Artisans’ Market had become a symbol of the role effort plays in realizing a person’s dreams.

>>9262208

Okay, it's an interesting plot for a plot-driven book. Are you writing genre fiction? Or is this literature? I don't care which you are writing. I just want to understand better.

>>9262217
The drive from their house to the event center lasts just under a half an hour, between the distance and the heavy traffic driving through town, but the two girls weren’t bored in the slightest.
“I’m still not sure about the banana joke.” Renée said. “You really think it’ll be good?”
“You bet. I mean, have I ever made a bad joke before?”
Renée hesitated.
“Wait, wait! Let me rephrase that. Have I ever written a bad joke into one of our scripts?”
“It’s not that, I just think banana jokes are a bit overdone. Like, can’t we pick a different fruit?”
“If the joke is good, leave it be. Didn’t you know the greatest artists steal their work?”
“It’s just, well, don’t you think it’s a bit risque? What will the parents think?”
“Only an adult would think anything of it in the first place, and they’ll love it anyway! It’s like throwing a dog a bone.”
“We are adults though, Jess.”
Jess smiled. “Really? Would an adult dress up as a cartoon dog and chase around another adult dressed as a cat on stage just so kids will laugh at them?”
“I guess so, seeing how we are adults.”
“You’re missing the point, Ren! We may be adults in body and mind, but we connect witht the kids because we’re children at heart! That’s the key! Never lose sight of that.”
“You’re only saying that because you wish you still were a kid.”
Jess lowered her head and smiled. “You’re right.”

>>9262217

If this is the beginning of your story, then you might want to reconsider what you have here. I say that because it's almost entirely comprised of exposition. And I would argue that, specifically at the start of any fictional writing, it's best to begin with action--some hook to draw the reader in. Exposition doesn't do that.

Would you say what I have said is fair?

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>>9260921
oh, i'm the one who should shut the shit??? how about you take a good hard look at yourself and ask, if you're the one, who should do so, bitch
>>9260949
okay, what i mean when i say it's not respectable is that it doesn't show any actual skill. it's fun, it's interesting to read, but it doesn't show any actual merit. you came up with a vocab list of ac-words and shoved them all into a short passage. it just doesn't work, it's a gimmick with no lasting appeal past the first sentence. i'd be interested in reading one of your more "serious" bits
>>9261665
most of the lit people post here is genuinely bad and it's not my fault. it's not their fault, either. most people start off pretty bad, and while i do give constructive compliments, it's rare for something to be so good that it jumps out from the bad
>>9261828
i've consistently posted writing here for like 5 years, i just take my trip off when i do so. i generally don't get anything out of critique threads, though, because people aren't honest critics ;^)
>>9261991
http://vocaroo.com/i/s1O1Okk9cK4B uwu

>>9262270

Please post some of your writing.

>>9262220
Not genre fiction. Im not even sure it would have a genre. The plot was originally intended that the main character rebuilds the lost Colossus of Rhodes and hates the way it looks and so he exiles himself to sea. The theme was about self criticism and inflicted anguish of not being literate enough to truly express oneself.

Also the main character is a virgin due to the imposed isolation of his childhood that left him unable to form close relationships with his peers. (And no, it's not because I'm a kissless incel, i am married.)

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>>9262347
love is lak de sea. it's a movin thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it's different with every shore

>>9262270
That was really good vocaroo. I enjoyed it.

Yes, I did grew in a tiny fishing village. I had no neighbors for 3 miles.

>>9262386
grow*

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>>9262386
glad you appreciated it, i tried to stop myself from rambling but i didn't do a very good job

and you really were underwhelmed the first time you saw a city? i remember being a kid in the back seat of my mom's car and just being absolutely thrilled every time we went into town, and we did it pretty often.

>>9262384

You aren't serious with this effort, are you? You can't be.

>>9262431
my experience has been 'x', therefore everyone's experience must be 'x'.

cancer advice.

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>>9262431
also as someone who speaks english as a second language, your sentence logic isn't that bad. it's a lot better than a lot of native speakers'
>>9262440
zora neale hurston is insulted

>>9262447

So you're too insecure to post your own writing. That's okay. I don't know why you'd go to such great lengths of avoiding that fact, though.

>>9262240
well, I think a page or so of set up is worth it

it is a mystery, and the layout of the building is pretty important, though I'm trying to keep both those pieces of info under wraps until Jess winds up dead

if she were to show up dead the first line (which I have considered) I think it would paint some of the things said in a different light; it's a calm before the storm type of thing, where seemingly no one knows the storm is coming

>>9262456

Okay. I am sorry my critique didn't help you.

>>9262431
I wasn't really underwhelmed, more like I didn't really feel enamored with it. I liked the city much better in the day time when I could see the buildings.

I wanted the protagonist to hate it, since his emotions are much more quiet and reserved but on the inside they are raging.

>>9262431
I lived a few miles from this place when I was younger. A lot of the homes here are summer homes that stay vacant. Its eerie.

https://www.google.com/maps/@45.4091652,-123.9330688,3a,75y,293.91h,73.39t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sAnFrO0W2vGOMjbG1iybdBQ!2e0!6s%2F%2Fgeo3.ggpht.com%2Fcbk%3Fpanoid%3DAnFrO0W2vGOMjbG1iybdBQ%26output%3Dthumbnail%26cb_client%3Dmaps_sv.tactile.gps%26thumb%3D2%26w%3D203%26h%3D100%26yaw%3D224.98746%26pitch%3D0%26thumbfov%3D100!7i13312!8i6656

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>>9262446
my feelings are hurt

city life, especially as contrasted with rural life, is an aggressive stimulus. it can be a positive or negative one, but no, i really don't believe it could be considered underwhelming, that's what i meant

>>9262453
i literally just said that i don't post writing under a trip lol. what i write is extremely personal and i prefer for it to be anonymous, even when it's published. i picked that quote because i thought it would be an obvious joke :)

>>9262471
okay, i hear you. i would still try to restructure that part. his opinions come off as very passive, not like those of someone who is "raging" on the inside

>>9262490
it's gorgeous, what a lucky tyke you were. people who live by large bodies of water always have the nicest skin

>>9260034
mentally revert to a childlike state and metamorphose through a nouvelle puberté

>>9262527
I dunno if I could restructure it there, but perhaps elsewhere in the story. Its hard to be angry when you're looking up at the virgin sky.

>>9262527
>>9262533

I think what I'll do is wait to the end when he is a dysfunctional adult and thrust back into society to have that inner rage unleashed. It will be more affecting, I think...

As an aside, I control + F'd the document and typed in "Ma". It looked like my book had cancer. I changed a lot of them into the pronoun she.

>>9262270
time to beat my wife

>>9255611
hahahahahaha
aka KEK

>>9262863
orgy porgy

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>>9262533
>>9262634
i just mean that, regardless of which opinions he chooses to express, he expresses them passively. "i think," "maybe," "possibly" indicate internal ambivalence. good job on the ma, haha. it always helps me to read dialogue aloud. people generally don't address each other by name or title over and over; generally only once at the beginning, and internally for emphasis
>>9262863
>soma will never beat you to the edge of death after getting vaguely annoyed by literary criticism

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>>9262927
>i just mean that, regardless of which opinions he chooses to express, he expresses them passively. "i think," "maybe," "possibly" indicate internal ambivalence.

>internal ambivalence

I cannot think of a more exact word for him. Bravo.

plz no steal

https://dropfile.to/H7ZKrw1

Help me out anons
http://pastebin.com/779paM7J

>>9263339
>http://pastebin.com/779paM7J

If Gould had never gone to the shop before why was it introduced before he got there? I feel like Gould is in the scene during the subway and then magically appears a the bookstore and the narrator takes over. Its kinda jarring.

>cicada shell

Cicada's are insects

>rather than let that sad thought of yet another bounty of knowledge and characters joining that dusty bookshelf in his study after he was finished with it and the the crushing despair of everyday life sunk in once more.

good emotion.

> “Well helloooooo! How can I help you today?”

Good dialogue

>¶ 29-32

Excellent commentary

The pace and prose seems to pick up around ¶40 and continues on with a good feel about it. The bookstore owner's name appears rather late and it seems to weird to have it there.

The ending is good.

Did you write this all in one sitting?

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>>9263411
What does "good" stand for in this post, exactly?

>>9263548
Meaning that I, as the reader, enjoyed it.

>>9263548

“Well helloooooo! How can I help you today?”

Would get you dropped by any literary agent. Elongating a sound by adding more letters instead of just italicising = amateur = dropped.

I can't speak to the rest of the work.

(My latest project. Dusting off something I started a fair few months ago but put down to work on something else. This is the start; 391 words out of over 64,000 but I dare say there will be another 20,000+ before I'll consider this sequel finished.)

She couldn’t quite stomach the process of him skinning the gutted deer, but was more than favourable of the outcome. For days they gorged themselves on it, eating to the point of being full, and like that old commercial used to falsely claim at the time, it was something noteworthy to be full. The fur, not knowing how to prepare it, even though he was alright at sewing and would love some kickass fur clothing for when Autumn really starts to shit on them with the cold, had to be gotten rid of. In short, he dragged it a long ways to the south and left it there on the grass. On the way back to the house he thought on perhaps leaving it near the woods to the west across the stream; maybe it’d attract a bear which he could then shoot and they’d be able to feast on it for even longer, but he heard bears don’t go down as easily as deer. Probably best not to muck with them when he only had non-expanding FMJ.

“Ahh… yup… that’s the ticket…” they sat back on the couch in the living room, a greasy plate in front of the two, and Richard pulled Tiffany over with his left arm into a hug. Her hand came down to his lap, a show of affection for all he’s been giving her. The left hand on her own lap had several squares of folded up toilet paper taped to the meat of her thumb where she’d injured herself a few days ago. She’s been getting more active, though. The first few days this brunette, who’s red dyed hair had long since been exposing her natural colour at the roots, had done very little to help out. The 6’, broad shouldered, barrel chested, beer bellied, ex-construction worker bear of a man had handled the majority of the work. Buried the previous occupants who had died very recently in the backyard; a lovely elderly couple, Charlie and Denise Winters, Charlie being an old veteran of, he assumed, the Canadian Armed Forces. On top of that had been doing the fishing, cooking, fighting of any threats though so far it had been surprisingly peaceful, keeping the wood stove burning for warmth, preparing the tub with water from the river for when they bathe, and so on.

>>9260007
I dig it, that's pretty hot. I don't think it seems realistic, but smut/erotica doesn't necessarily have to be. Seems nicely worded.

>>9263411
Cicada shells are what I've heard the skins they leave behind called for my whole life. That may just be a Florida thing though.
Yes, single sitting

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>>9263576
>>9263640
good

>>9263640
It's not the same as using italics though, thanks for the input though.
Your review = alright = dropped

>>9263725

I figured. It seemed like the beginning was a warmup phase and it the prose and structure improved as you moved on. Try writing some random things as a practice and it might help.

>>9263738
What kind of things would you suggest?

>>9263742
I dunno. Any sort of warm-up would do. Do sentences in the prose you want to write in. Describe the view from your window or the life of your pen. Not too long, just enough to get the gears moving.

>>9263640
Gonna have to agree with >>9263729 in that italics is different than adding letters. I don't know how to add italics on here but for now I'll just use quotations marks as a stand-by. "Hello" done with italics merely stresses the word a little, makes it stand out. It could signify sarcasm, or an erotic/seductive tone, or really a number of things. "Hello" will sound different then 'helloooooooo'. For instance, if you were standing at a chasm and wanted to make your voice echo off the walls, generally you don't just give a brief "hello!" You let it drag on with an 'helloooooooooo!' Quite different, and I wouldn't attribute elongated words as being amateur. Unless perhaps you could provide an alternative? How would a professional writer elongate a word without adding letters?

(example)

Taking in a deep breath, the excited lad let out a long and drawn-out greeting to the walls of rock that surrounded him. Bouncing off the hard surfaces innumerably, the greeting was returned to him several times over in his own voice though in a deeper tone. "Hello!" It cried out, and he smiled from ear to ear as his father next to him chuckled amusedly, a hand coming down to the fellow's shoulder and rubbing it, enjoying the child's exuberance.

(example end)

Now I don't know about you, but in my mind I heard the drawn-out version UNTIL I read "Hello!" Once I read that, it changed from a drawn-out echo to merely a brief and loud, well, word. Instead of the echoes overlapping as my intention was, it was merely the one word bouncing back and forth. Less like waves hitting a beach, more like a bouncing ball hitting the ground. No, I still believe that elongated words have a place in professional literature, though of course I'm open to hearing out why you would think otherwise, if perhaps you have an effective alternative.

>>9263795

A professional writer would show an elongated word or expression with italics. The nuance of the italics are given by context. If you can't give it by context, you aren't a good enough writer.

And if you can't do that... Dropped.

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>>9255004
The butts were screaming, and loudly they wailed in their shrill and colon-deep flapping sounds. Emily tried to withstand the butts, yet the blasts were so numerous. It was as if sound and wind had dawned a new force of stenchiness. She coughed and gagged, and gulped in the vile sprays of air. Hope was leaving her, and the butts reared back with thunderous roars that boomed over the trees and sang the strange ritual of sacrifice. Invisible clouds of rich and putrid soil seemed to thicken all about her, stunting her movement, and she begged in her mind for respite from the sulfurous Hell she endured, but, like endless blaring trumpets that might drive anyone to the edge of madness and back, the butts never relented. The deafening sounds and repugnant stench, and the occasional spill of brown, overwhelmed Elmily, and by the crack of dawn she would be brave no more.

"The butts were triumphant that day," he said as he looked on the valley under the stretched rays of sunset. He idly played with himself. I'm not sure he was even aware of it. An air swept over the balcony, and in it the faintest waft of an ancient stench made Dornemydorienhe grimace and turn away from the valley.

"We have not forgotten, nor will we ever forget her noble sacrifice. But, the world belongs to the butts, now. Our time has ended." He stood on the balcony's edge. Below, the butts, clad in cloth and denim raiments, thrashed upon the doors, and down the path hundreds upon hundreds more hid totally the cobbled road from view. Some turned upward as he balanced on the railing of the balcony, rope slipping from his hand.

He stepped into the open air and fell out of sight. The rope stiffened, and peace befell the valley for one brief moment before the butts cheered their war cries at the death of the final heir to the Lomenoma dynasty. That hellish racket, never being one whole sounds, but always the millions of slapping cheeks in vicious unison.

I sank to the cold wood of the balcony floor. What would not be enough that I could feel nothing the dread of death as they crashed through the doors below and the screams of war and violence hurried echoing through the halls and rooms, but that I must smell it's approach left me stupified until at last they were upon me.

'Go ahead,' he said.
'Go ahead and do what?' his bro asked.
'Gee,' he said, as though it was obvious. 'I don't know... Suck my cock?'

>>9263815
You really love your definite statements.

>>9263828

You must be baiting me... I can't imagine the writer that thinks 'Hellooooooo!' will get him published.

You can't kek this stuff up.

[crying laughing emoji]

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>>9263838

>>9263795
Hell-<i>o</i>

>>9263838
When you were born they said look at that dumb cunt coming out of that other dumb cunt's cunt.
Thanks for the feedback.
Period.

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>>9260644
>doesn't flow good
don't make me critique your critique
>The sky blended into the ground. He felt like a force of nature, as if anything in his path wouldn't matter. He would just run through it; a brick wall was no problem at all.
>In front of him, the man in the grey jacket was hit by a car. The window cracked. His body came to a sudden stop, heel grinding against the ground with all the force of his inertia. He leapt back up, his grey jacket now torn. He was unsure if he was disappointed, disappointed that the chase could have ended there, or relieved that he would continue to have this primal feeling in him, possessing his limbs, moving them without thought. They began again.
>Their shadows flowed and stretched against the tall, bleached walls of the alley. The man in the jacket had begun to slow down, seeming to suddenly realize how hurt he was. His leg began to act up as if it, too, realized that it was broken. He tried to balance himself, jerking back and forth. He fell into a puddle. Laying in the waste of the city, he twisted and contorted like a worm, his torn jacket absorbing the filth around him. He screamed. Words of excuse. They all had the same meaning. "Someone else, please, God! Not me!"
>The other man gently raised his hand to the one lying in the water, an ocean, lying like a small, hurt child. In the other man's grip, a revolver. He imagined himself as "the killer." Not himself, anymore. Something eternal. A mythic figure. Something that exists outside of man. But it was a man's finger that pulled the trigger.
uwu

>>9261320
write what you know

>>9262217
yo you ever been to huntsville, alabama

>>9263838
i seriously cannot believe you are getting shit for saying that "helloooooo" is not publishable

it's not, guys. it's retarded. if you want to express how someone is saying something, you need to use your own language to express it, not write a bunch of o's or use allcaps or ~~ or whatever.

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>>9263991
also i have a soft spot in my heart for that first one, i write a lot of chase/capture sequences because they come up in my dreams a lot. yours was pretty good

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>>9263991
>write what you know

What I live for others die for. A scalpel glows in my fingers. Iodine burns a dull incense in my own fragile senses, as I see a red contrast against a white surface. A cherry on the snow. A pool of wine spilled upon a curtain-lectured sheet. Romantic nights accompanied by blank stares and cold skin in the cold air with dense breathes.
Case #443: filed on a thursday night, sense: grass-fields
Appearance: Soft skin. Fresh, teeth white, missing a lateral incisor. Red-hair, flowing down to her back.

>>9257156
People don't use people's names that often. Even there are people who actually talk like this it's annoying as fuck to read. The prose parts are just as bad. Shuffled with boring cliches (smell infected, resounding click) and somewhat original yet weird usage (fouled by the sea)
>>9263819
Heh butts XD
>>9263661
Bad sentence construction, awkward phrasing. Say the things out loud or just fucking read it

>>9260644
"They began again" and "In his grip, a revolver" "It all had the same meaning" just sound cheesy. This isn't irreparable. Some word choice issues.
>this is fucking trash
that's the first step
>>9264075
ECH

>>9264246
Have a little look at this one then, just so I have something to compare and contrast your critique with. What I showed you was an almost untouched first draft. This excerpt is a revision of the first book I self-published, and have already been critiqued on it by some people who know their stuff either in regards to the genre, or about writing in general.

The stench was the worst part, he had thought. That God awful smell of decay occasionally mingled with that which came from the loss of bowel control brought by death. He figured that was the part that bothered him the most, the part that unsettled and disgusted him the greatest, but he had been wrong. This was known of course; you don’t survive primarily on your own for so long without learning things about them as well as yourself. Even aspects that strike you personally; discoveries in learning what you are and aren’t good at, what makes you tick… and what you are and aren’t capable of.

Kneeling on a slight hill on the highway, cold brown eyes squinted, peering at a large town not far in the distance. Some houses, a few small stores, a modest police station, post office, one convenience store in sight with a gas station, there was probably a pleasant little grocery store in there somewhere where the previously-living locals would have gone regularly to restock their fridges and cupboards. A deep grunt of a quiet laugh hit the man as he shook his head, reminded of how he had once looked upon such buildings. ‘A smorgasbord! Firearms in the cop station! Food in the stores! Check the houses for loot! Get fuel from the gas station! Try to fortify yourself in one of the buildings and scavenge as the days go by; you’ll be good for weeks! Months even!’

Foolishness; even without the aid of binoculars or a scope, he could see the distant undead shambling about aimlessly. They were like baby spiders that had grown enough to leave the egg sack in which they’d hatched, spreading out, yet at first not straying too far from where their life (or death, in this case) had begun. Some, inevitably, would leave this town and he was certain that many already had, but some would undoubtedly remain. Stragglers; there were far too many to deal with in spite of his armaments, and even if he could take them all out, to claim this town as his own… and that was an impossible if… it would be useless.

>>9263819
From the Lord of the Butts trilogy: The Fellowship Stinks

>>9264332
>that which came with
I know you're referring to a different god awful smell but it was annoying and unrewarding to figure out.
Cliche use of semicolon. Weird usage of exclamation points, causes the tone to be inconsistent. I'll admit it's better than the other one, but there's a reason you're self-published buddo. Also,
>zombie story

>>9264362
You don't have to be a dick when you critique.

>>9255006
No.
>>9255589
okay.
>>9255914
eh
>>9256029
nope
>>9256112
pol ramblings
>>9257129
normal
>>9257416
interesting. Neat style you have there
>>9257426
good
>>9259585
not bad
>>9259724
not lyrical. more like love scat i shat out in 30 minutes.
>>9260007
not lit
>>9262217
r.l. stine
>>9263661
>64000 words like this
anon. I want you to delete your work, pat yourself on going through with an idea, and thank the novel for some experience in writing.

>>9264395
Empirically correct. At least I gave actual things that could be improved upon. Sort of exactly what I'd want from a critique.

>>9264395
It's ok, at this point I've already disregarded it. I've been reviewed by someone who passionately loves zombie novels and was given 5 stars, and I've also been looked over by a retired English teacher who had a lot of praise. Also, said English teacher is a published author, not self-published; published. Now he does have one point though; I do overuse the semicolon, and that was pretty much the only negative thing that said teacher had to say about my writing as well. He said that my writing flowed well, that I had an impressive vocabulary, and that I also had a decent grasp on how to use nouns as verbs which is something that Shakespeare first did. Though the noun/verb thing was in regards to a different book I wrote, one that's just in the process of review with CreateSpace right now.

He particularly liked 'a deep grunt of a quiet laugh'; it was a juxtaposition as he called it, a word that I hadn't heard since I was in grade 10 or so. It had initially taken him aback, but thought about it a little, and seen that it really worked. Zombies and firearms aren't his things, but writing most certainly is, he's already written two books with intent on writing a third to while away his time in retirement, and he had very little negative to say about my writing. So I'm just taking Stephen Dedalus' critique as basically differing opinions and tastes, meaning he doesn't like my style of writing. Nothing personal against my writing, but merely how I write. Nothing can be fixed about that other than to completely change how I write which I'm most certainly not going to do. My exclamation points may be weird, and he might find my tone to indeed be quite consistent. I think the teacher actually may have touched a little on that in regards to having varying sentence length. Sometimes short. Sometimes it stretches out longer with a few commas and/or semicolons. If a writer's sentences are too similar in length, then the writing can start to feel bland.

>>9264428
Nah, even if I was indeed worried that people wouldn't like it, I would publish it anyways. Get it out there, and get those negative reviews. When possible, I'll try to get in contact with my reviewers online to find out personally what things they didn't like about it. Whether or not they'd go into detail, I'd thank them for their time. A negative review, if anything, can be more education than a good review. I wouldn't deny myself the chance of such an education considering I'm still quite new at being an author, and that you're suggesting I delete all this writing merely based on two paragraphs.

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>>9264452
let me offer another couple of opinions: your writing isn't horrible but it is incredibly improvable and you need to stop posting in critique threads if you are going to chalk up actual critiques as "differing opinions." seddy's biggest transgression was saying the words "there's a reason you're unpublished," a sentiment which you have apparently set out to prove here.

>>9264503
Agreed. Maybe I went too far with the banter which caused him to disregard my legitimate critiques.
>>9264452
If you found a way to write a zombie novel in an original and highly entertaining way it'd probably sell out the ass. But right now you sound like everyone else who writes zombie novels. So maybe you do need to change your writing drastically, maybe you just need to fix some flaws and see what you have when you're done with that.

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>>9264515
you're the first namelad who i've seen use a (pseudo-)spoonerism besides myself...are you me from the future?

>>9264527
he could be making fun of you.

>>9264527
I dunno, are you me from the past? I got a pretty bad memory.

>>9255006
It takes a bit too much effort to decipher what exactly's going on. People mostly read to be entertained so you need to make it your goal to write an easily comprehensible scene. What I mean is lines like
>the sound of them in intervals of four
it's just too specific and hard to imagine.
But don't be discouraged.

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the owner’s manual says
change the oil every five thousand miles
high octane, unleaded fuel only
tire reads thirty-two pounds of pressure
check the treads every time you drive

doesn’t care anything about
leaky trunks
rainwater
my neglect
rusting
jack and iron

tire blew out on the interstate
pistons plowed through the engine block
tow trucks don’t come at three AM
the owner’s manual says a great many things
about preventive care and routine maintenance

but it will not say
how to love your car

>>9264362
>>9264448
>>9264515
>>9264541

oh fucking god damn not ANOTHER namefag

we need to cull your narcissistic kind

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>>9264538
why do you think somebody go and do a thing like that? make fun of my name? i didn't do nothin wrong...
>>9264541
do you have a scar on your inner left ankle from a bad seesaw accident?
>>9264551
tow trucks do come at 3AM, most of them are 24hr. i drove onto a corn field in high school in the middle of a snowstorm and a tow truck came and drove me home. i like this, though. not a fan of free verse but it's decent

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anyone else scared to post anything for fear of being turned into a meme?

>>9264575
thanks.

the tow truck bit is a true story. they told me they were all busy. it was my wifes birthday. we fought, i left, and then i wrote that poem.

>>9264551
I feel like the volta makes it seem less important. Fails to keep the exasperated tone from the first two stanzas. I can't think of a better way to do the same thing though, so idk
>>9264575
>bad seesaw accident
those playground flashbacks. I think we might actually be different people. I only ever hurt myself running and falling down.
>>9264578
Authors who are memes:
Jimmy Joyce
Vladdy Nabakov
Tommy Pynchon
Davey Wallace
You're in decent company.

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>>9264613
you also like to use nicknames ending in -y. i refuse to believe you're not some manifestation of myself

>>9264578
That, or I'm scared it'll be stolen. That sounds super pretentious but I am.

>>9264623
There's only one way to find out. Cut a finger off and I'll tell you if I felt it.

>>9264636
>>9264623
Maybe a toe actually to make sure you can still type.

I like how this scene played in my head. I wonder if I wrote it down well enough.


I saw a man rowing in from the sea. His wooden boat had been colored blue but had since faded in the sun and in every direction the sun beat the waves into humbled submission. The sky loomed over the man as he rowed his paddles, coming closer to me though he was rowing away. The closer he got the more devilish he looked. His dark hair had matted upon his crown in dire sweat and agitated glaze, pulling strands together and downwards as he rowed faster and faster. Faster he rowed and faster he came until he sped past me like a bullet, pushing me into the sea. I saw an image of myself wake on the beach next to the model from class. She was smiling at him and he was smiling at her. He stood up and grabbed her hand and pulled her up as well. They kicked off their shoes and began running, hand in hand, in their Sunday clothes. For what seemed like ages I watched him run with that girl towards the sea. The sand had turned to glass and cast reflections that grew longer and longer the closer they came to the water’s edge. The ocean cheerfully lapped at their heels, flinging droplets of water into the sky as they began to descend into the sea, playing in the sweet-smelling water, their clothes clinging tightly to their bodies. A swell came from the silent sea and dragged them to their knees, pushing sand around their ankles and burying their toes next to the sand crabs. The boy looked around for the girl but she was nowhere to be sees. Frantically he plunged his hands into the water, pulling up clogs of hair and skin mixed with red, saturated sand. The sea turned black and the sky wore ivory as he fell down on his hands, and a wave came and consumed him whole. I could only look on in terror as the wave grew and grew to momentous heights, threatening to swallow me and the world with it. I began running away, but the ocean took me closer with each step I made. I watched the sand crabs scurry forward as I was stepping backwards in a gait. Not a moment sooner I felt the violent pounding against my back as it pushed me face-down into my reflection. The world turned black around me. I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn’t wake up.

>>9264655
cont'd


I tried to picture the girl, with her jet-black hair and thin, porcelain face, but I couldn’t see any light from where I was. It was too dark to see anything. I felt sorrow in my heart; lost and lonely in the sea of nothingness. Providence came swiftly though, for from the corner of my eye she appeared, swimming beside me as her hair flowed around her luminous naked body in the black sea. Her ivory skin shone like a solitary lantern poised on an empty street amidst a curling country road on a moonless night. I reached out for her but I had no hands to touch her. She smiled warmly while she swam to me and held on to my back and we swam together in the darkness. She whispered in my ear that her name was Alice, and that she wanted me to take her home. It was now that I noticed my body was not human. I pushed my legs out and felt a great surge forward, and small flecks of white appeared in the foreboding darkness. I pushed again and saw the wisps speed past me in a blur. I opened my mouth to swallow them whole. The lights burned on my tongue and I felt the tasty morsels move through my throat and into my belly. I could not stop myself. I became obsessive in seeking out those flecks of warmth. I gorged myself until my stomach felt like a furnace in the winter. I felt powerful; like I had the whole universe at my whimsical fingertips. I floated on and twirled about like a dancing ballerina while Alice held closely to my back and squealed with delight. The flecks became bigger now, and I saw that they were distant stars; I had been eating the sun. I felt uneasiness in my stomach as they coalesced in their fiery heat. The pain became too much and I felt my consciousness drift while Alice cried out to me to stay with her. I told her to swim away. I had eaten the sun and now I was shrinking while it was growing inside me. At eternity’s end, I felt light envelop and consume me, just as the black sea had consumed Alice.

>>9264655
This is great at pulling the reader in and the atmosphere is definitely quite lulling, if that makes sense. It is at times slightly hard to follow but maybe that's part of the charm?
Well, I really liked it, I'm sorry I don't have much to critique.

critique my shizzaz

Valmer was comfortably nestled into a pile of dead leaves. The exhaustion clutched his depths and compelled him to resign altogether. Given the fact that he had spent practically the entirety of the day gathering them, there was no doubt he would enjoy the rest of the night savoring the fruits of his labor.

The pale-skinned man, however, could not find peace with himself nor with the night. It read in the way he fingered his black locks and glared at the white dots which punctuated the ebony maw of beyond. And they too glowered back down at him. To Valmer, they were a reminder of hunger and gluttony, rags and daggers, and more exhaustion. For this desperate state that Palzian had left him in, there would be no hesitance to deliver his judgement. The young man couldn't find it within him to exhibit any form of reluctance when he would come face to face with his oppressor. The air, the stone, grass, trees, and even people who would stand between him and Palzian did not matter. They might as well not exist to begin with. More than anything, Valmer put trust in his ability and his malice.

But there would be enough hardening in the morning. For now, the lad required rest.
I intend to expand upon this, maybe make it a little bit more detailed, but how is this little snippet?

bumpy rump

>>9255006
Lots of sentence fragments and run ons
>>9255589
Lots of descriptive language. Maybe too much?

Here goes my shitty poem

"The Classmate"

I saw you in class
You had big circular glasses
I said "hey"
You looked at me in disgust
I wondered why and took my seat
The lecture began

I'm looking at you
You're taking notes
Your blonde hair and nice clothes
And those big circular glasses
They compliment your face
You notice me staring
I look down at my notes
Nothing is written

Soon we'd be at lunch
We'd walk the same way
And not say a word
I'd be far behind you
Walking slow
You'd arrive at the cafeteria
I'd shortly follow
You'd sit at a table
Maybe I'd sit across from you
And try again

>>9265019
Cute. CUTE! I felt like calling it basic at first just because of the subject, but I enjoy how homely the theme is.

>You had big circular glasses
I'd just say:
>I saw you in class
>Wearing big circular glasses
Is this semi-autobiographical?

critique my dumb shit: >>9264750

>>9265055
Thanks anon, and yes kind of. It's not a true story that happened with someone, but the feelings and mannerisms of the narrator are pretty accurate to what I would do. I read your excerpt, high brow and good vocabulary. Not too much descriptive language, not too little. I had a little difficulty understanding what was going on in the second paragraph though. But very good writing and the first paragraph really drew me in.

Outside, pale shards of light signalled dawn. The dew began to dry on the magnolias and wisterias, on all the life-brimming wildflowers that fringed the roads. Wiping his eyes of morningcrust, Cormac flipped through a newspaper and concluded that nothing had happened again. Nonetheless, he let his eyes wander along the text so he could ruminate unbothered by the others. His mind did wander. Last night, Moira had worn a short, flared skirt that swayed gently when she walked through the house. When she bent over to slice the birthday cake, Cormac could sense in her face, through her hair, that she was feeling sadness. It seemed in her pursed lips that she did not like the crowds, the cheers, the empty embraces that come with such things. No, he thought. It must be that she would prefer to be alone. Or with another, maybe. He sought to see her again.
Time—Cormac looked through its long haze and tried to conjure Moira’s face. Her ruddy button nose; her curling thin lips; her wide eyes black as vipers; he nurtured these features like a garden, trying to spring them to life again. He sought to find the lithe twist of her porcelain neck when she looked up from the cake, holding a butterknife in soft hands but, sighing, found nought but an advertisement for a tentative but experimental masochist in the classifieds.

>>9264503
I've been focusing on CreateSpace/Kindle, and the more I learn about traditional publishing the more I see that this is what I'll be focusing on. I've sent a couple of my books to one publishing company just for kicks, and I'll wait until a reply from them. I know the typical way of getting published is to send manuscripts to multiple publishers so I can let the denial letters come in, and that sounds all fine and dandy, but even if I did get properly published chances are I wouldn't end up with as much money and/or sales with that as I would with eReaders. There's even guys who started with traditional publishing, got their start, then went with self-publishing as well and found themselves getting about 90% of their income via self-publishing.

So this whole notion here on /lit/ that self-publishing isn't real publishing, isn't really a valid option for any author who considers himself at all seriously, is a very dated way of thinking. I can tell you this much however. My first novel was published last October, in fact 5 months ago today; October 20th, 2016. As mentioned I already got a 5-star review. My sales have been slowly but steadily increasing to the point now that I've gotten and/or KENP/KU page reads every day for the past week. If I can maintain what I've gotten from Mar 13-19, then I'm already making over $500USD a year. I'm only just starting to figure everything out. I had a free promotional campaign from within the past week to help me get reviews in the long run, been doing guest articles at a populated blog that focuses on survivalist/firearm/ammo type of stuff which is right up my alley, and I've also gotten a fair bit of support from /k/.

I don't believe for a second that I need to get picked up by a traditional publisher to validate my writing, and I don't think anyone who actually does professional writing, who has learned the game of being an author, would think such either.

>>9264515
Your critique may be legitimate to you, but it goes squarely against both what I've been told from people who could almost be considered 'experts' in the field of survivalism/zombie post-apocalyptic novels, as well as from people who take great passion in the art of writing. That's the biggest reason why I largely disregard your critiques. That, coupled with the rudeness. Didn't so much seem like constructive criticism as much as "you suck, and here is sort of why you suck, but more or less you just suck."

Maybe critique threads aren't for me, but I truly can accept criticism. I was really looking for anything I could in the retired English teacher that can be negative, and whenever I mention people reviewing my books I always encourage them to be truthful, even if it's with a scathing 1-2 star review provided it does well to explain why they thought it was so horrible. I know zombie books are overdone, but from what I've seen, the genre is severely lacking in terms of realism and true survivalism. My book fills that niche.

>>9265112
I like your scene setting. It honestly paints a picture without the unnecessary verbosity that I'm used to seeing here. You've got some unnecessary Martinisms tho. Morningcrust for instance, sounds like something you've made up, and it pulls me out of the story. This is the most professional thing I've read in this thread. Not the most interesting, and you don't have the most interesting prose, but this reads like an excerpt from a published book. Solid job.

Here is an excerpt from some (shit?)genre fiction I wrote a few years ago(inb4Underage). Haven't visited it since, but I don't have any recent writing, just wanted to contribute.

Nothing stirs your appetite like a dead dog and dysentery.

Wyatt put out the nub of a cigarette in a saucer of too salty french. The remains of a nibbled on Po’ Boy sat next to the saucer, the undercooked monstrosity had apparently attracted the attention of a family of houseflies. The smell of ash combined with the French Dip made him gag, not that the sight of the sandwich made him feel much better.

He didn’t smoke and he hardly ate, but his assistant had seen fit to bring him both food, and what had looked like a half-smoked cigarette. He stared at a coffee stained manilla folder on his desk for a bit,and he momentarily forgot that it served a purpose besides being a resting place for his coffee. Wyatt made excuses for a solid minute, but ultimately decided to use the case file as something other than a coaster.

Of course, “file” was a bit of a stretch. He ran his fingers over the words on the file, the glossy paper almost slid through his bony fingers.

“Lost puppy. Last seen three days ago, wearing a purple collar,” he mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. “Fascinating.”

The parents were nine-to-fivers, the daughter a whiny nuisance, and the pay could barely buy him a nice dinner. On top of that, they could have cracked the case themselves. Like he said, fascinating.

Wyatt spent roughly two hours investigating. About two days after their dog went missing, a police officer was attacked and given rabies. The dog had the same collar, and the attack took place in the same neighborhood. The mystery was solved in less time than it would take for the officer to file his report. Not that Wyatt would complain about easy money.
Of course, the poor thing was put down, and Wyatt’s job was to find the dog, not tell them that it was dead. He reached into his pocket, his elbows making a loud pop as they adjusted..

He dialed the number that the parents had given him, hoping they would still pay him after he broke the news.

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>>9264636
i did 2 for good measure. even a flinch?
>>9264655
definitely not bad. i do think you're relying on your imagination more than your prose. you have some interesting turns of phrase and your grammar is pretty strong, and i feel a voice come through at times, especially in the second piece, but it fades in and out. i'd like some more risk-taking and less reliance on sensuality
>>9264750
>Valmer was comfortably nestled into the pile of dead leaves, exhaustion clutching his depths and compelling him to resign altogether. He had spent his entire day gathering the pile and intended to spend his night enjoying it.
>Valmer, however, could not find peace. He lay, tugging the dark locks of his hair, casting a scowl toward the star-mottled sky. The stars only glowered back down at him. To Valmer, they were a reminder of both hunger and gluttony, of rags and daggers and endless exhaustion. For this desperate state that Palzian had left him in, there would be no hesitance to deliver his judgement. He knew he could not bring himself to resist his oppressor. The air, stone, grass, trees, even the people who stood between him and Palzian were hopelessly immaterial. He constrained his faith to his ability and to his malice.
>But there would be time for hardening in the morning. For now, the man required rest.
>>9265019
not poetry
>>9265112
not bad, feels a little artificial
>>9265149
holy shit did you really just not even read my post and respond with 400 words about self-publishing

>>9265218

>Split " The remains of a nibbled on Po’ Boy sat next to the saucer, the undercooked monstrosity had apparently attracted the attention of a family of houseflies." into two sentences. A period where the comma is. I feel as if it would honestly flow better. When split, though, I feel as if each individual component is fine.

Wyatt feels very human, and I like the way you emphasize his mannerisms/deportment. Pretty good scene.


Critique my amateur shit (don't write often): >>9264750

>>9264750
like this. mccarthy-like tone. keep writing. i really admire the restraint in not going too purple. the ebony maw of beyond is one of those phrases that works well but needs to be amongst some more terse, straightforward stuff. just tryna make sure you keep doing what ur doing.
>>9264655
:) like it
>>9264075
just learned what a curtain lecture is, so thank you. don't think it works here. has potential, though. this is the tv show dexter written by the 'queasy undergraduate' virginia woolf sees in james joyce
>>9263661
trashy. cliched. could work, but doesn't. maybe it's because i grew up with these types i can't bother reading it done badly. has potential as a concept, maybe, but doesn't work in practice. cheers.
>>9262217
i really like this. funny. sure it's exposition, i suppose, but it works. ever read alice munro?
>>9260007
perhaps a dozen adverbs too many.
>>9259724
has anyone here read literature that talks about the internet in a way that isn't entirely repulsive? pretty stuff. i like stars too. here's my favourite sentence.
>the heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.
>>9259713
walmart brand blood meridian. i can tell by your forced biblical language and failure to use commas. mccarthy had a fucking brilliant simile in BM. forget what exactly but he said the sun looked like the squat and pulsing head of an enormous phallus? consider brevity.
>>9257426
don't START with a word like clastic. what's up with the mccarthyites up in here? the half-priced reverence and 80 percent off diction is hard to read.
>>9257416
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animalia_(book)
if you're a fan of alliteration. interesting nonetheless. love the phrase 'the gays'.
please tell me chap 2 is by barnie the st bernard with borborygmos who bought a blue bed in babylon?
>>9257156
nice scene, interesting you didn't use the word constellation. like the word ma. switch 'no ma' and 'christ'. agree w criticism about names.
>>9257129
o just read this. don't end with "busted" at the risk of sounding like a 90s teen sitcom narrator. nice prose again. pretty.

>>9265218
can you elaborate on what a martinism is? a quick search is only pulling up esoteric christian sects and a reddit post talking about george rr martin. morningcrust i think was something i stole from anthony burgess btw, but i agree it doesn't belong here. thanks friend.

Can someone give me advice on sentence structure? I only do technical writing, but I've noticed that all of my sentences have the exact same rhythm (clause, comma, clause). For example:

I wanted to focus on Robert because I felt that by writing down his rejection among the group to his being Jewish, it oversimplifies the complex and important relationships he has with the other characters. All of the relationships surrounding Robert are fundamentally imbalanced, which is why none of them can be comfortable. The friendship between him and Jake reflects a relationship that is common in real life, but very rare in literature. For most of the book they are undoubtedly friends, but the friendship was much more important to Robert than it was to Jake. This is due in large part to how many more friends Jake had than Robert, who had only two. As a result, Jake is obligated to invest much more time into the relationship than he would really like, especially after Robert's fling with Brett. The two don't share many interests, and when they spend time together Robert mostly opens up about himself and asks for Jake's advice. The effect of this is that Robert becomes more invested in the relationship over time, while Jake continues to lose interest.

I'll post critique after this; there wasn't enough room in this post.

>>9265343

>>9264332
Cool, I like it.

My only critique is the sentence describing the town. I'd appreciate a more natural illustration of how he takes in the town instead of just listing off buildings. On the other hand, maybe that sort of technical tallying of important locations is part of his personality. In that case, I would appreciate some kind of introductory statement to prepare the reader for a list of buildings. As it is I sort of skimmed over it like a laundry list.

>>9265218
Too many cliches and awkward commas. The Po' Boy sentence needs a semicolon. I'd slow down your sentences overall, it feels like you're moving too fast.

>>9265260
>holy shit did you really just not even read my post and respond with 400 words about self-publishing

Not the guy you're responding to, but to be fair your statement was misleading. The subject is ambiguous.

He sometimes wonders if he’s slowly developing what can later on become a very nasty habit of medicinal dependence. The transparent medical containers are a very universal sort of red flag in everyone’s mind that this person is not quite right and somehow say, for instance, a neighbor were over at another neighbor’s house for say, a cookout and just so happens to get the urge to take a wiz and goes into his/her neighbor’s bathroom, but does something that no good neighbor would admit to doing but does without fail, that is, snoop around in their cabinets and shelves of course, and so just so happened to see one of those infamous transparent orange white-capped containers, the neighbor unintentionally tends to think the absolute worst, that the neighbor has this hidden pill addiction, like Percocet’s, when in truth is just the regular occasional daily migraine that feels like some kind of small worm is digging its way into your very eye sockets. Something mild like that.

run-on garbage, i know. but how's the comma splicing?

>>9265260
>relying on your imagination more than your prose.

Its a dream, so I think that is the best compliment I could get!

>>9265260
Well shit I didn't feel a thing. I'll lop a leg off, tell me if you get light headed this time.
>>9265055
>Cute. CUTE!
>>9265149
I'll admit that I would be very unlikely to read a zombie novel, so i guess I'm not your audience. But I definitely told you why I thought you sucked. The true survivalism seems like a legit angle though.
>>9265343
Vary sentence length more. Having a few sentences that are 4 or 5 clauses as well as a few that are just one leads to more variation in rhythm and shape. Also mess with inversion more; it doesn't have to be immediately clear at the beginning of a sentence what the subject is. Legit Sun also rises angle too, since the jewish angle is probably a bit overdone. I also think it's interesting how Robert has the strongest identity of the characters, especially over Jake and Brett. What's happened in Cohn's past heavily defines him, whereas Jake is desperately trying to avoid his injury defining him. Might be another reason why he's uncomfortable when that guy is proud of his arrow scars.

“My mother, my wife, Our Grand Designer. The one true prize that I seek in this world. For centuries I have longed for her presence, for revenge, for power. Long have I awaited the day when I could look into her eyes and allow her to feel all of my pain, all of my agony over the destiny that she had designed solely for me, the only immortal man in this world. The mother used me and tossed me aside, the first pawn in her grand scheme. She wove the threads of destiny through my loins and passed on the duty of savior through my seed. Through me, she accepted her own gift and bore my first brothers and sisters, she bore - my first children. And with those brothers and sisters, with those children of mine I was forced to mate, told that what I had created with the mother and what I would create with these children would be beautiful and eternal things. If only I had known then how badly I would be played."

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Is it wrong to fap thinking of characters you created

>>9265449
that's some next level shit my man

>>9265449
Only if they're author surrogates.

>>9265389
Hey thanks, that's good advice. I never considered how the subject placement makes all my sentences sound the same.

Also a good point about the scars. I'm taking an English class online and it's frustrating not being able to discuss anything with the class or professor; I have trouble escaping my initial perspectives.

>>9265519
No problem.

I can definitely understand how you can get entrenched in your view. I had that problem even with real discussions. The only thing that would sway me was someone bringing up a detail I hadn't caught, like new evidence.

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Chloe Alexander sat up straight with her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her bright red blazer stood out against her starched white shirt and tight pants and was accessorized with checkered pocket square. She found the outfit to be constricting and uncomfortable, but she endured. Today was a day where looking her best was of integral importance.
The office she was seated in was messy and cluttered. Papers were strewn everywhere on the floor along with crumbs of food and candy wrappers. Cobwebs hung from the corners and the window shades were covered in layer of dust. Her silver eyes darted back and forth from the hands on the clock to her interviewer, Captain Anthony Williams.
His kinky greying hair and moustache were neatly trimmed and shaped. He wore an impeccable brown suit that matched his chestnut complexion and leaned forward in his seat with his elbows on the table, black spectacles resting low on his nose. As he flipped through Chloe’s dossier, he occasionally rubbed his chin and scratched his head, his face stern and focused.
Chloe pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed her forehead quickly and stuffed it back in her pocket, hoping he was too focused to notice.
“Nervous?” Williams asked, taking off his reading glasses.
“No. Why would I be?” she lied.


plz no bully

>>9265436
shocking. can really feel characters anger

>>9265989
What's going on in this scene, anyway?

like, can you provide more context

otherwise thanks

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>>9265343
take a sentence, extract the specific meaning, rewrite the sentence
>I wanted to focus on Robert because I felt that by writing down his rejection among the group to his being Jewish, it oversimplifies the complex and important relationships he has with the other characters.
so you will (A) focus on robert because (B) you don't want his jewishness alone to define his relationships.
>I wanted to focus on Robert because I felt it crucial that his Jewishness not define his relationships to the other characters.

as a rule, you should always write like this, until you get out of the habit of bad writing. think about what you actually mean to say, consider the best pace to communicate that to the reader, write the sentence accordingly.

>>9265362
they're bad, read this out loud while revising

>>9265436
this is actually pretty well-written, good job. i don't want to say keep it up because i'm not sure what 'it' is, but, uh, good job

>>9265449
it's wrong to fap

>>9265989
not technically bad, but formulaic. i feel like i have read every single one of these lines before

Las brujitas, ay las brujitas. No hay mujeres tan lindas en toda la tierra. Sus bechos son firmas, con pezones rosas. Y llanos. Son super llanos. Si tu fuera poner la cabeza encima de esos, puedes escuchar sus corazones. Son pequeñas, con latido corto, como un conejo con coño. En eso momento no puedes resistir tus impulsos. Necesitas quitarse la ropa de ella. Ella exhala. Su aliento tiene fragancia dulce. Es preciosa. Todo de la escena está guardado con acción. Y justo antes de entras ella, te das cuenta, de repente, que mexicanos inteligentes no existen.

Daily reminder not to acknowledge any of Muck Bulligan's advice. She doesn't know what she's talking about. And also she won't share any of her work because she's ashamed of even her best efforts. She writes highly personal narcissistic accounts of her own vapid life. She is incapable of writing anything outside of strict adherence to the motto 'write what you know'.

>>9267422
I don't get the whole write what you know thing. I understand that writing should draw from real life experiences, but strict adherence to the saying would lead to a world of autobiographies.

Not everyone can live a life like Melville or Hemingway.

>>9267422
I think the edits she did for my piece were alright. One line was misunderstood, but otherwise it was okay.

>>9267472
The issue with writing what you don't know is that anyone who does know will read your writing and think, "that's not how that works at all". This is why lots of writers do research. You can circumvent this by attempting to write believably about some experience almost no one has had, but even then you will have to start from a frame of reference you yourself understand.
>>9265449
>>9267238
It's wrong to create characters.

>>9267504
Well yeah I know you have to do research, that's a given in any writing.

Take Ken Follet for example. His magnum opus Pillars of the Earth is about 16th century architecture. Follet isn't an architect, but he did study the different buildings when creating the novel.

I Am Definitely Not Thom Yorke

Sitting in a room with an erect penis in my hand
It did not belong to me
It was very feminine
"You make me feel things I've only heard about it Radiohead songs"
What am I doing here
I don't belong here
Oh god this feels so wrong
Does this make me gay I wondered to myself
I hope my dad doesn't find out
He's a Navy SEAL
And her could probably murder me with a trout
Is this hell?!
Why am I still stroking his feminine penis
I'm sure I'm not a gay
Turn fruits into vegetables is what my grandpa would always say
I carve my face with razor blades
And bleed all over my Hollister shirt
What is even the appeal of a feminine penis
Am I so lonely that I'll fuck anything that moves
Or do I just like feminine pensises because they're hairless and smooth
This is the last time I'll answer a Craigslist ad
That's a lie
I'm looking through a Craigslist ad right now
5'2" sissy boy for you
What's a lonely NEET to do

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I had a size

now I fit yours

>>9267545

Boy that was something

That was good

>>9267504
>It's wrong to create characters

Did you even start with the greeks?

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>>9267422
if you have a crush on me, just say it, anon~~
>>9267419
bastante bueno, la ultima linea me hizo reir
>>9267472
"write what you know" doesn't really mean "only write things that you have very specifically experienced." it means write from an informed place. that information could come from personal experience, but also from related experience, research, empathizing, etc. when i say "write what you know," i mean that you're not writing from an informed place, and it's making your story unconvincing
>>9267476
if i couldn't understand it, assuming i'm at least of the average intelligence of your audience, you might consider rephrasing
>>9267504
it's wrong to create

>>9267811
it's wrong

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>>9267828

>>9267811
>The young man couldn't find it within him to exhibit any form of reluctance when he would come face to face with his oppressor.

You can't understand this? It ties in with thr mention of how he wouldn't be hesitant in delivering judgement. He can't find it in himself to hold back.

It's redundant and could be reworded though sure

>>9267903
the*

>>9267903
>He can't find it in himself to hold back.
Hey look at that, you rewrote it perfectly.

>>9267932
Fuck.

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>>9267148
Okay what are some good ways to provide context?

>>9267238
How can I make writing less formulaic?

Also how should a murderer be caught in a book? Any ideas? Thanks guys.

>>9268163
You should have thought of how he was going to get caught when you wrote the book. Its hard to write an effective mystery if you don't know the answer to it.

>>9268163
Dialogue. Or a character briefly remembering something.

>>9267238
>this is actually pretty well-written, good job. i don't want to say keep it up because i'm not sure what 'it' is, but, uh, good job

Thank you friend. I don't share what I do often since it's mostly an incoherent mess to anyone other than myself at the moment, so I do appreciate knowing that my writing is at least on an acceptable level

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>>9268194
Plz help
>>9268222
The!

>>9268329
Picture the murder in chains and work backwards, thats about the only advice I can give you.

If you want something clever, I suggest watching "The Mentalist" for inspiration. Otherwise you might find some sort of guide from a procedural crime novel or show. I'd stay away from movies since they are too self-contained to have relevance to what you are looking for.

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>>9268356
What I have so far is the killer kills 3 people who all know each other. The drug lord, the supplier, and the accountant who launders money. Only thing in common in the murders is that they're swift, effective, and there's never a sign of struggle. How can I connect these facts to killer? Plz help.

Potent as it was, the venom from Kieran's mouth registered immediately.

"...Excuse me?" Jerry twisted her neck a smidgen to the right and the corners of her lips a smidgen downwards. Tapered eyes were kept steady on Kieran while he casually went to sift through his pea coat pocket for something. A second later and a rectangular piece of paper was withdrawn.

Flipping it around, Kieran silently presented Jerry with an ultimatum.

"I like being alone. Isolated. I just want you to understand what's going on, miss. I've already done the calculations myself and I've discovered that this covers the rest of your lifetime and then some. So, you can piss off."

With a wry, thin smile, Kieran extended the check out for Jerry to take. Emphasizing the bulkiness of his daily schedule, he pivoted his feet away from her as if preparing to saunter off.

How is it?

>>9268607
>Kieran and Jerry
This is some sort of comedy right

>>9268576
>comes to critique thread
>please write my story for me!
That's not how it works, kid.

>>9268617
>female has a commonly male name

"le joke xd"

Give some legitimate critique.

>>9268740
Not that other anon, and seriously, both of those names are terrible.

>>9268740
I didn't mean it in that sense you sensitive fag, why does one character have a really, really common name, and the other one very rare? It sounds as if it was something in parody

>>9255589
I remember this from the other thread, looking good so far.

>>9268769
How come Pynchon can get away with it and he's a fucking god but I do it and I'm a bad writer

>>9268941
I got news for you: You're not Pynchon.

>>9268955
Besides the names, critique. Replace Jerry with Gwen and Kieran with Jack

>>9268607

Hello. I don't think there is anything wrong with the character names you have chosen, because none of them catch on the eye when reading; they don't draw attention.

Anyway, I think it's best I give you one point to work on that I think is the most fundamental thing: your text is overwritten.

I think you could benefit from asking, of each sentence of prose you produce: does this reveal character? Does this aid the plot? And if it doesn't do either of those things, then really consider the worth of a given sentence even if you like it.

For example, do we need to know the smidgen of movement of a neck turning or lips moving? I would argue there's no real need for that.

In short, choose simpler words while still retaining the original meaning.

Do you think that critique is fair? I would like to hear your thoughts.

:)

>>9268786

Thank you! I have since dropped this beginning of a short story, though. I'm currently working on something which, in my view, is far, far better. I'm 2,400 words into the short story so far, and 800 of that is the first scene. I've revised the first scene six times, and now I will complete all of the scenes before revising them all one last time. I wrote the second scene today--1,400 words--and so I will redraft that a handful of times, too. I am very proud of it so far, and I think it's the best thing I've ever written. I will send it out for submission to magazines etc. when I am ready.

:)

>>9269048
Yeah, it's . . . sort of fair, I suppose. Besides the movement of Jerry's lips and neck, I don't see how anything else is too detailed. I'd say the rest of the descriptions are pretty simplistic.

I'd think that saying to a kind and harmless woman "piss off" with a smile sort of tells you something about their character a little.

But yeah I didn't provide enough context, I suppose.

The brunette took a sip of punch. ‘Tonight is my turn!’ she thought to herself. She had prepared a series of cards for everyone to read. A ginger stood up.”Is everyone ready for this week’s speaker, Chell?” Everyone claps, as Chell makes her way to her chair. She starts to flip her cards, the first one reading “Hello, my name is Chell. I can’t talk, so I decided to make cards. I hope no one minds.” She continues to flip, unraveling her story of her smelly exploits in a place called Aperture…

“What are you bloody doing?” the blue-eyed sphere asked.”Don’t eat those beans! They’re like, ten years old!” Chell shrugged, not having food in forever. She had found a can of beans left for her, by her guardian angel, Rattmann. She had opened the can by using one of the lasers, and heated it up, by putting it on the body of a burning turret. She had to use her hands, but she didn’t care, she was starving. Now, being in stasis as long as she was, she had forgotten the effect of beans on the human body after a while. So, she continued to eat until they were all gone. Then, she wiped herself off on her jump suit and continued testing.

>>9269151
After hours of jumping in and out of portals, a rumbling emerged from her stomach. Confused, she looked down. She then felt a pressure in her bottom. ‘What is happening?’ She thought, stopping. Wheatley stared.”Why are you stopping? We have to hurry if we’re going to defeat her!” Chell refused to move, as a loud, smelly fart erupted from her butt. Wheatley stared and then began to cough. ‘Of course they would give me smell-receptors! I don’t even need these!” Chell blushed and gave a small smirk. ‘It’s funny to see him suffer’ she thought. Another, louder fart escaped her. The whole room started to stink, and Chell loved it. She got a big whiff and smiled. A silent-but-deadly made its way to Wheatley and he felt like, if he had a throat and stomach, that he would throw up. The stench was horrendous. “The Aperture scientists just had to give me smell-receptors. What was I even supposed to use them for? I was meant to be attached to Her the whole time, so what would I even smell?” Her. This gave Chell an idea, as another, quiet fart is released. Chell smiles, getting a good whiff of the air, and then beginning back on her way. “Finally!” Wheatley exclaims.

>>9269151
>>9269159

>no BRAAAAAAAAAAAP onomatopoeia

dropped

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>>9268163
well, you've attached an image from a shitty TV show, which leads me to believe you spend more time watching shitty TV shows than you do reading not-shitty lit, which is a problem. honestly, read sherlock holmes stories if you're writing a whodunit, they're very short and help inspire creative thinking
>>9268264
naturally—keep sharing, interesting incoherence is a pleasant reprieve from boring incoherence
>>9268607
once when i was a little girl, i'd finished one of my own books and went to look for something else. i picked up one of my mom's. it had a pretty lady on the cover. i started reading it and found that i didn't particularly like the writing, but i kept reading. by the second chapter, the pretty lady had become a nude vampire thrall chained to the protagonist's bed. i feel like i'm in the "don't particularly like the writing" stage and am about to be traumatized for the rest of my childhood
>>9269159
every day we drift further from god's light

>>9269192
So, uh

when are you going to post some of your own works for us to critique? You seem to be a really gifted writer so I'd just like to see an adept one in action.

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>>9269224

>>9262270
>>9262527

it's not a pissing contest, 'nonny

>>9269238

what the fuck is a 'nonny

and hmmmmmmmmmmm okay

>>9269238
i fucking hate trips.

I hate you.

you're fucking annoying in every way

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>>9269253
anon -> 'non -> 'nonny

>>9269263
>women decides to post
>shits on everyone else to counteract her own feelings of inadequacy
>garners attention by being a tripfag
>refuses to post her own writing (because it's """"""""personal""""""""") but claims to be very good

It's an anonymous site but tripfags just fucking ruin it so damn much.

>>9265449
yes but that doesn't keep me from doing it

>>9269282
this
>woman tries to do something as simple as shitposting
>fucks it up

typical

>>9269224
You don't have to be a writer to critique. Only a reader.
>>9269192
>image via 9gag downloaded from tumblr
I think you've reached another level.
>>9269151
bleh
>>9268576
Here's a tip, don't write mystery novels. It's almost as if it's been done to death and the irony that would have to be involved to make it actually good would be of titanic levels.

>>9269282

She's utterly inadequate. Her writing is shit, and she's terrified to share it. She's a fucking idiot.

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>>9269282
ANGERY
there is a lot of trash writing posted here, and i'm sorry if your writing is some of that trash, and i'm sorry if i told you as much. i'm not going to stop giving my honest thoughts, because i don't see any real fucking point to, besides *possibly* eliminating *maybe* 1/4 of the uninspired insults i get for contributing to this god-forsaken vomit puddle of a website.

if you don't like my criticism of your work, that's fine, disregard it. if you don't like my criticism of someone else's work, give them some of your own advice to show them there's not just one answer. if you don't like that i GIVE criticism, well, that's fine, because that means i don't need to worry about what you may or may not like
/end ANGERY

>>9269330
>bleh

TOP NOTCH CRITIQUIN'

FUCKING TOP

tripfags need to DIE

>>9269429
It's farty fan fiction, brah. "bleh" is pretty appropriate

>>9269500
Don't you mean "brap"?

>>9269427
>most you guys are all trash, terrible writers even though I won't share any of my writing because it's """""personal"""""
>this website is complete shit

yeesh kid

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>>9269570
i don't think MOST of the writing here is trash, and i don't think writing something that's bad means you're a terrible writer. all of us write bad stuff sometimes, and if we thought otherwise, we wouldn't reach out to others for a second opinion.

i do share my writing here, i have for an embarrassingly long time, but i (A) don't leave my trip on and (B) don't post in critique threads

(A) is because, yeah, it's personal, which i don't think is a bad thing. people i know irl know i post here. you choose to be anonymous all the time, i choose to be anonymous some of the time. what is the issue?

(B) is because i have only ever gotten a handful of meaningful, sincere responses. i feel like people don't even read the post through. it's very frustrating to put yourself out there and be met with a 4-word response and a "critique mine please :)"

/lit/ is a vomit puddle, though, i won't redact that. and i'm contributing to the puddle by turning this thread into autoapologetics. sorry to the people who posted here in earnest trying to get their shit read only to have to deal with this juvenile nonsense

>>9269427
post your feet, you disgusting whiny woman

>>9269667

Please, be quiet. You're making things worse...

After the failure that was "Ma" last dialogue, I've continued on with the book. Its short, so don't worry.

Blurry eyed I saw shadows dance in candle-light against clay shelves lined with rock-carved figurines. The warm light colored the walls with mahogany hues and I could see mountains form wildly in the details, falling and raising like dimples on an oyster. I tried to raise my upper body, but a hand had pushed me back down. I tried to grasp it but my arms fell with each attempt back down on the hard surface that I was occupying.
“No, no. Yes. Not yet. Good, but not quite. Hm.” A voice trailed. The sound of the man’s speech echoed noisily in my skull.
“Mhr—“ I tried to speak
“Sh-sh-sh, Not yet, not yet. Not time yet.” The man reassured in a soft voice.
“You had a fall, yes? The Warden brought you to me. Dropped you right on my doorstep. Haha! Ah yes, the Warden. Careful little thing he is. Did you see him? Of course not, you couldn’t have. But did you?” he spoke more confidently now “What did you see? Did you see at all?”
“Irma—izwha…”
“Ah—yes of course, of course. Sleep. Drink this. Sleep”
I felt a liquid fill my mouth. I tried to spit but the man’s hand held my jaw tightly in place, emulating a natural movement and forced me to swallow. The lights twirled and the knick-knacks blended together, caught in the spin.
“You mustn’t fight it. No, no. That would be bad. Sleep”

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>>9269825
this is pretty good, but there's a lot of grammar mistakes. in the first line, you're hyphenating wrong, it should be *blurry-eyed, *candlelight, and probably *carved rock. for the dialogue, i'd pick someone whose dialogue you like and try to copy the way they format it, because yours is all over the place. the dialogue in this is waaaay better than the MaMaMaMa before

>>9269879
Thanks for the advice! I'd post the rest of the chapter but

a) its not finished; and
b) its not edited yet.

The dialogue and prose wasn't edited yet either, I just wanted to know if my first "attempt" was in the right frame of mind. I find it easier to deal with mistakes in the method rather than mistakes in the editing, if you know what I mean.

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I had cummed on my brother as he traversed endless deserts in search of water and faith for our family.

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>excerpt from an essay i'm working on.

On the 14th of January, 1208 CE, a papal legate named Peire de Castlenau was stabbed in the back by an anonymous squire as he crossed the Rhone (sic!). He died shortly after forgiving his anonymous murderer. Peire de Castlenau, a virulent denouncer of heresy in Languedoc, would then become the martyred cause of some twenty years of the “sporadic warfare, indiscriminate butchery, and bloody conquest” (pegg, 4) known as the Albigensian Crusade. The particular heretical movement Peire de Castlenau had denounced, Catharism, had become especially widespread in Northern Italy and Southern France, where the sect had flourished. The Albigensian Crusade, it is estimated, claimed somewhere between 200,000 to 1,000,000 souls (cite). Yet—the event was not singular; it was part of a much larger narrative of church persecution of heretics in the high and late middle ages, the reasons for which are worth investigation.


The reason why the persecution of heretics greatly increased in the high and late middle ages is an unsatisfying and facile one: there were simply more heretics to be persecuted. However superficial, this is nonetheless the most fundamental reason. The Cathars, the most significant heretical movement of the middle ages, blossomed between the 11th and 12th centuries CE. What this entailed was, as the middle ages peaked and waned, church and state alike exerted merciless force in order to maintain religious and social hegemony. For the Cathars, this reached its apex in the Albigensian Crusade and later, the Inquisition—two events which all but eliminated nearly any trace of Catharism in Europe. Growth in heresy created a unity between church and state, which gave the church a strong, secular arm to combat unorthodox beliefs and behaviours. From this, decrees, papal bulls, and ecumenical councils legitimized persecution of heresy as they were accepted with zeal by secular rulers. A rhetoric of heresy developed, which sought to justify persecution by appealing to popular prejudice and perceptions of heretics. Church reformers of the time were aware of heresy’s growth and spread, and sought to re-define what exactly it meant to be a christian in a christian community. Heretics, by definition, did not follow these reforms, thus they had to be changed or eliminated. A zeal for violence, especially in the name of God, seized Europe. Rewards for persecuting heretics made it even desirable. The confluence of these factors made Europe in the high and late middle ages what R.I. Moore called a “persecuting society”: a society that found unity and stability in the formalized slaughter of religious dissidents. The eradication of the Cathars in order to secure religious hegemony for the catholic church cannot be seen as a solely religious issue; rather, the decline and fall of Catharism reflected a society equipped with the arms to beat down any and all religious dissent—and by any means possible.

>>9270042
Too boring. Add some robots and explosions and you're all set

>>9269825
Try to keep your verb tense consistent. i.e. mountains forming, hand pushed. Editing fixes stuff like this of course, I don't know if you've gotten around to it yet. Also,
>I tried to grasp it but with each attempt my arms fell back down on the hard surface I was laying on.
Not perfect, "that I was occupying" just isn't a good phrase. The real point is that mixing up those phrases and what they apply to is unhelpful. "colored the wall with mahogany hues" seems a bit mixed; I'm not really sure what mahogany means here. I think of mahogany as dark, which would make sense because candle light is weak, but since it's forming details it seems confusing. It sounds nice though. Don't use the 'echoed in my skull' thing, it's a cliche and there are better ways of describing the same sensation. Dialogue is much better, only critique is that I don't think trying to speak and failing sounds what you've used to the person who is doing it. Interestingly, even though you said man, I couldn't help but imagine the dialogue was coming from a woman. "Careful little thing" and "mustn't" sound like things an English nurse would say no the sort of things a man holding my jaw tight would be saying. Definitely improved though, and I liked parts of it. Some awkward parts that could be edited out is really it.

>>9270065
i despise dry writing, but i have to restrain myself when i'm in an academic environment. when the goal is to put forward and defend a thesis, poetry gets in the way, unfortunately. does anyone have examples of excellent non-fiction prose? i've been trying to follow the example of mark gregory pegg's 'corruption of angels', as its my favourite, for prose, of my secondary material. i couldn't write like gibbon if i tried. moreover i'm trying not to moralize TOO harshly.

>>9270085
>mahogany means here

I was trying to describe something like pic related but i don't know how to. Maybe I should just drop the color part all together.

If you'd like I could post the rest of the chapter; its only 1000 words.

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>>9270108
forgot pic

>>9255006
This sucks
>>9255589
Total bullshit. You say things just to fill space or something... don't do that.
>>9255914
>It's a "guy waking up" episode
delete dis

>>9256132
too long

>>9256282
nonsense. if you don't care, why should I?

>>9256368
this is good, actually alive. just keep going with this shit man, you have actually invented something, and you are actually creative, which is something you can't say about every post preceding you in the thread. I'd keep reading this.

>>9256437
Good stuff!

>>9257129
This is nice. Your actual prose is awkward, but there is life behind it, so you just need practice.

>>9257416
brilliant m8, as fun to read as it was to write

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>>9270042
very good. definitely not too dry, was fun to read. have some edits anyway
>The particular heretical movement which Peire de Castlenau had denounced
>200,000 and one million
>Yet the event was not singular
>worth investigating (or worthy of investigation)
>One reason why the persecution of heretics
>redefine
>capitalize christian and catholic
>>9270115
try "amber," or honey-brown, or ochre, or tawny

>>9270176
See, honey-brown is not a color I would even consider as a guy. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that most men have a dull understanding of different colors, myself included.

Women are overpowered, please nerf.

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>>9270176
thanks friend. yes, i have a lot of editing to do, but i'm more or less glad with how it's going. if you're interested in the material i can recommend some books. this has been my obsession for the past few days. wh auden once said the easiest way to stifle conversation was to say you were a medieval historian. i agree, but it's so fucking interesting. wish /lit/ would get off the greek dick and join the medievalists.

>>9257426
Meaningless.

>>9257457
selfish

>>9259585
no one talks like this

>>9259713
stop trying to be cool

>>9260007
ugly nonsense

>>9260644
ugly. what would your parents think?

>>9261320
I'm gonna yak

>>9262240
bitch shut the fuck up.

>>9262217
this is good. I'd keep reading

>>9263339
>Copious Gould
?

>>9263661
your the guy who's making all the tinder girls so gross and masculine, and making them think that that's a good way to be and that it's cool. fuck off man

>>9263819
dude it was random

>>9264332
yo this sucks. so awkwardly written:
>A deep grunt of a quiet laugh hit the man as he shook his head
^wtf? u know?

>>9264584
:(

>>9264578
>>9264628
don't flatter yourself

>>9264655
hurts to read. be simpler, stop trying to be so literary

>>9264750
stop being so fucking flowery

>>9265112
It's clear you're trying to be smart. You already are, the smartest thing you can do is stop trying to be.

Also

>Cormac

VERY SUBTLE...

>>9265218
>Nothing stirs your appetite like a dead dog and dysentery.
why does everyone get a kick out of being disgusting? Life is already disgusting enough without you trying to make it even worse

>>9265362
Very Wallacian. unfortunately for you, I hate wallace, hate how he sneers at life and gets a kick out of painting ugliness. THere's already enough ugliness in life...

>>9265436
kidn of gay

>>9265449
shut up

>>9267422
>She
FUCKIN LONDON!!!!

>>9267545
faggot

>>9268607
cringecore

>>9269159
whatever

>>9270042
goddamn you must be smart as fuck

>>9270176
>try "amber," or honey-brown, or ochre, or tawny
why use more words when you can use less?

try "dark yellow"

>>9270090
48 laws of power is historical in regards

>>9269967
I need more info