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ITT we share what we're writing and judge each other. Novels,

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ITT we share what we're writing and judge each other. Novels, short stories, poems, etc.

I don't have anything to share because I don't write. I'm just here to laugh at cringy writing.
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I'm considering writing a horror novel about a young schizophrenic living in a big mansion in a forest. y/n?
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Isn't the bun a woman's hairstyle?
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>>9326565
Does this man look heterosexual to you?
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>>9326553
I wrote one just like that, but you could probably make it better. Go for it. Maybe you'll have more luck. Mine was an embarrassing first effort at a novel. Garbage can!
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>>9326590
How long did it take you to write?
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>>9326538
>From my diary desu:

April 2nd, 2017
EPIBPI dwofienpi PIBDPi BPIHBPIdhihedishd IHBdnie IJNIvjevje IBIFHERfhbfrhf IHBFRIfishIHF piihbpw ei2ieii isjdi iwwnowjnwo3 wijediw OIW ijn OFNRWIR ffirf IERFIdjsifwl CIFD ijwfiIBFRF sIBPRBijdwed PIRFFBIRisòwieu29ebd IJSDxkpqkw OJòEIVjcdijd AAA xajnid CRFER o3 3 DISNI 666 ijdnif wpifhwpi caepifvpfnqe SPICBpidnsp IFRijdnijdwpe PIUNEPIVFpifripf DPIns PIURF ibf PRF a QPIWEDBQPibsprc PIVFSpsdpcsfbvs PFISRFijer FIEFWUEfjn FRNw9udn IPFFEPPmp OINRS pifnfor FI0FNI3oxmwp2 r9kIIII IUEDjedd IUFUFW9jdiibidbaidb99UBNIBd ajdaodjao DIJibdaiehbiJFIFjsjceQFEPJsuplitQWJPQ cosdj ksshfbsdjfbsaòskjbflaihfblrfhcdeihrfbaeprirfhcbwpsihrfbaiabpisrfbari IFBRSIFnf òIFR ifbrIB iB oO ofihbf OFWNO ibi 8882 ibribfr IUFBRI ii IUBRIF pibpib PIFRBbifh IFS ijfe Kofsrn Oneua Lofsjof Mifsub Xdwej KDWSIQQQQOOOOOOOOOOOO dshbdsh ahfasf weifbw 93DBEQ shbfsifhbs1 WWW saojdnaow PFIEB WWWjisis IBIFBIRifsrb fai3b DWPIUDBW ifbsirfbsif vepirufbpq34r IUFBSR ifrbpspf OOoooo00FSIHFS fwirfbwi 1838 UIFISFBSI ìfeu k IFSBRI j IFRS z IFBR zzz FUSRFLkcslc ch vaisbof alufhc asjf wjhfqwourf qwfqworf qwue qufq wu2d 20icfnoc wc wdq 1idj wcaje opcnw npwcn owcn on 82 nIFHBRS jh fs LIFHRBSLFISL SIUF LIFBSL ADLHFSL LWEH WELGHI QòRFOB QòE QJQFBòER è HFBRPIF 9027 tytytytytytytytytyt IBFRSIFS ggggggggggggggg IJDNIFJFSN ipfribfsr FRIBFPED ofsfsòròfdp IFVSIGS fhsboghtrbpg IVBPTGISBTG OCVO qpqjepnijfn INSNC zbqyw 666 LFSJINF kfsmlkfskfso sojfn foiaen oje cwjd o dje w wodf woe wow z m g doojn PIUFWPB fjnsif IBDOFBbiafhbs apibpPIBPDifb PIFJRBSIFbfisbifsbPLLLLL hdbsih IUB xxx HBIHF 91212 IDEAIB dhakh JHcuckJFSIJ shbfh JFI 453453 JFRIFSifj sfkfj faorfb P8R ifber PIFEBP ifbwifb fhbeor48 HBFRFbdisxfuck.

I know you think it's bait, but it actually makes sense in my head.
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>>9326538
Where do these pretentious stock images come from? Why are they made? What is their purpose? Who choreographs them? Why is it such perfect charlatanism?
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Some shitty low fantasy short stories. Hopefully tied together in a common setting.
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>>9326672
stopped reading after the first sentence

>vomit
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>>9326600
About two weeks, but I promise it was bad. What would your plot be like? Why schizophrenia? What does he do in this mansion in the forest? What is the element of horror?

Mental illness and horror go nicely together in my opinion, being a schizophrenic myself, because horror tends to represent the outcast odd ones who can't make it in the regular world.
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>>9326695
First post here again, I didn't really think it through at all, it's based on a dream I've had. Mansion in the forest is isolated and may contain strange secrets from the past. Schizophrenia because it seems to be useful for a story to have a protagonist whose mind is playing tricks on him. But I wouldn't really be content with just him hearing scary voices or something, I'm more interested in megalomaniac fantasies, interpreting mundane objects and events as horrible and significant etc.
I'm sorry to hear about your illness, is it very severe? How does it manifest for you?
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>>9326634
So, like... what does it mean?
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>>9326773
Sounds good to me. If he's got megalomania, I suggest making him also bipolar (it's called schizo-affective = bipolar and schizophrenia) with horrible manic episodes; bipolar people often hallucinate when manic, stay up for days and days high as a kite, and tend to believe weird things in that state, like that they're god.

My illness is mild; medication takes care of it. It's like social anxiety, nervousness, and a spaced out mind.
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>>9326832
Your post is too cute to mock you :(

It doesn't make sense at all
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(1) The brief tragedy of Agata Grzeskiewicz

Agata didn’t speak anymore. She couldn’t. She used to spout nonsense to fill a lull in conversation, she hated them, the lulls. People would rely on her to fill them too, they hated them but wouldn’t do anything to stop them. Agata always did. The things she said were lame, and belittling, especially towards herself, not directly but they certainly had that influence on how her listeners saw her. But, people laughed and so she attracted a group of strange friends.
When she stopped speaking they would ask “What is wrong, Agata? You haven’t spoken all day, something must be wrong.” “you’re not yourself today, Ag, are you ok?” and she would look at them with her thin lips shut as though gently glued, and her eyes wide and dark and sad, similar to an old dog’s eyes, tilting upwards from the ground to see instead of lifting her head. They stopped asking soon and some of them left when they couldn’t laugh anymore. Ida beamed at the ones that stayed. Usually, they were the ones who didn’t laugh when she took it took far. With her silence, Agata began to see more. Her dark eyes became lenses and she saw how men saw her tits, she always had, but now she saw what they imagined doing to her. And her jaw would clench, her lips arch inward and when they laughed at her silly face, which sometimes they did, she wanted to throw a tantrum and stomp away, but she knew she had to stand there.
When she could speak she didn’t mind so much, she took the compliment and on the occasion considered approaching one or two of them and showing them what she, herself, was thinking of doing.
Her lenses, as lenses are, seemed dark from a distance, but if you were close enough you would see an icy depth and a life within them.

Now you know what has happened to Agata, who she is. You can hear her story.

(2)
Common imagination assumes that when somebody stops speaking, they begin to listen. True or not, this was not true of Agata. Noise would wash over her, she had no response to it. It would drift past her ears which were unwelcome to it. Why hear it. It was petty but if her voice was gone then she wouldn’t listen. Fuck you. Instead, her lenses became responsive.
(more)

I've never really shared anything before. I'm too self conscious to ask for feedback. Is this worth me writing more of?
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>>9326866
Thanks for the info, sounds very interesting. If I go and actually write this I might incorporate that.
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>>9326900
Damn, that font is aesthetic. What's it called?
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>>9326907
Baskerville, and I know, right? I love it.
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The U.S. Forest Service recently erected a billboard next to the Love Valley pullout just off of S-7. A forest in flames, black silhouettes of trees framed against a wall of orange flames, Smokey the Bear clutching a fawn one-armed in the foreground, a distressed look in his eyes. Bold red script emblazons the scene, “Our Most Shameful Waste!” with the legendary phrase “Remember – Only YOU can prevent forest fires!” on a white backdrop at the bottom, the U.S. Government's defense to Imperial Japan's tactic of weaponized wildfire, a devastating but ultimately failed strategy. Americans love their land. Smokey is the physical manifestation of the bond which we feel to the American Backcountry. It belongs to us all; we are all shareholders in the National Forest System, one like no other. Millions of acres open to recreate on 24/7, the only regulations being those to prevent the destruction of the land. No rangers breathing down the back of your neck, the only chirping that of the birds and the squirrels and the chipmunks. The coyotes howl their sorrowful song, falsetto notes reverberating across a continent of canyons, mountains, and plains, a reminder of the wild within the hearts of Americans, the kind of fire even Smokey can't put out.
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>>9326900
Much better than all the other crap posted ITT.
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>>9326951
Thanks! I'm proud of what I've been working on, although I think my story is paced a little too quickly. I need to slow more moments down into detailed descriptions like these, I think.
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>>9326900
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>>9326989
good edits
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>>9326989
Thanks anon
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>>9326989
Do you write?
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>>9327008
No, but I might like to eventually.

>>9327004
np

>>9327002
thanks
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>>9327024
How are you so good at critiquing?
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As if a dreamlike drunkenness were under my employment, I have schizophrenia to make my life odd, which is not altogether fruitless, for the strangeness of being it presents is quite a fascinating sensation to turn over in my thoughts. Life is, anyway, a terribly nonsensical adventure when the mind is pushed to consider it deeply.

My mental illness is most fortunately a manageable case, nevertheless, one that hinders me socially but as long as I remain fairly alone, excepting for the company of my wife, Jane, I do well enough, always on the outskirts, however, always a voyager in the aberrant surreal, which can be entertaining in its own right nonetheless.

I will never understand what it means to be alive. Full stop. For one thing, I was never alike to anyone else enough to feel normal, though I've had some friends, and I have Jane. I become confused when I'm with people, because something about me is incurably odd. Life taunts me with its well-adjusted ordinariness. I try to smirk, but only to disguise the feeling that I've been snubbed.

More to the point, the earth is a little planet in a vast universe, and I'm quite smaller than the earth. With a trillion massive stars overhead, I feel alone in my mind; with a trillion unimaginably enormous galaxies swirling about wildly in the distance of space, I feel squeezed into a tiny existence all to myself, shared with nobody, as if nobody could comprehend me, not who I really am anyway, not the thing in me that tears up and longs to be well-adjusted like everyone else.

I have socialized and loved as much as I was able, but I still feel as if my mark has been only to sprinkle a light dust on life that will be blown away by the wind like ashes. Eventually, the feeling overtakes me: Everything about living is unutterably strange, far too incomprehensible to fathom.
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>>9326538
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>>9327044
That's racist.
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>>9327051
:, )
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>>9326553
No, unless you include long descriptions of anime and sell it as post-modern. :^)
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>>9326538

>topknots

eww that is homosex
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>>9326900
I'd remove "various goods", but it's decent.
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>>9326900
1/2

>The town of Leniford was a lovely one.
Delete – we know you're talking about a town, we know it's lovely from the description.

>It sat on the periphery of two forests, somewhat of a bridge between woodlands.
Delete the first clause – we know it's on the periphery of two forests if it's a bridge between woodlands. 'Somewhat' is a pointless hedge – delete.

>It was a rather odd place, for the village was quite lively in the midst of the still trees surrounding;
Delete first clause, doesn't make sense – how does a village being lively make it 'rather odd?' The rest of the paragraph also describes the town as idyllic, not strange.

Altogether, a possible first sentence: 'Leniford was a bridge between woodlands, lively in the midst of the still trees surrounding.'

I still don't like that, but it's a better template to work from. Why is it a bridge – just because it's between them? If that's the only reason, then the metaphor should be dropped: bridges connect things for crossing, and if the woods are quiet, and nobody is in them, then it's not doing that.

>some nights, as I gazed
Viewpoint shift odd – opening sentence gives impression of omniscient narrator. No one would describe his own town in that way. If first-person or local voice is the goal, revise opening to match.

>into the colossal skies
Weird adjective – the size of the sky is the same everywhere. Is its impression colossal because the town is small, or because the starscape is visible due to lack of pollution…? Or are we saying the sky is colossal because the narrator feels a sense of scope in looking up at it? But then this is odd given the closeness/quaintness of the rest.

>I could hear the joyous sounds of conversation just a hill or two away.
‘Joyous’ is twee, so should be scrapped unless that’s what you’re going for.

>I yearned to be part of such interactions
‘such’ is highly non-conversational, and to a lesser extent so is ‘yearn’ and ‘interaction.’ It depends on what voice you’re going for, but unless it’s ‘wistful, romantic socially awkward,’ the language should be changed to reflect it. Right now my impression is the narrator lacks social skills.

>but it was so much more comfortable to lie in the frosty grass outside.
Comfort at lying down stops the narrator’s ‘yearning’ to be part of the conversations? Again, this makes sense if the narrator is socially awkward, but not otherwise. Delete ‘outside’ – if they’re on the grass, they’re outside.

>In Leniford, brick roads stood out like embers in the night
Delete ‘in Leniford’ – we already know you’re describing Leniford. Unless you’re going for the repetition, in which case it should be more consistent (but I’m not fond of it anyway). How can a brick road stand out like an ember? Brick roads don’t burn or shine. Do you mean the lights lining it?
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>>9326900
>>9327163
2/2

>children shrieked with laughter
I think ‘shrieked’ is a bit weird to describe laughter as a habitual. It makes me think there are banshees wailing everywhere – gives the impression of things being unsettling, not cozy.

>neighbors fixed each other breakfast
This contrasts with the rest of the list, which is sensory, in describing the social habits of the people. Same with ‘people were artisans…’

>constantly crafting various goods for the community
Again, this is really non-conversational – sounds like a foreign sociologist. Also, it would be better to commit to a concrete craft or two rather than reference ‘artisans’ vaguely. What do they make?

An attempt at a rewrite (I’ll keep colossal and bridge for BOTD):

>Leniford was a lively bridge between still woodlands – it shone like embers in the night, rang with laughter, and smelled of tea and spices.

…[later in talking about its social character]…

>Neighbors made each other [shoes and? :^)] breakfast, and no one wept without a shoulder to cry on.

…[when transitioning to the narrator]…

>As I lay on the frosty grass of its hills and gazed at the colossal sky, the sounds of conversation…etc. etc. [or just have hin leaning against the tree, to demonstrate people do this in their leisure time]
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>>9326634
Reminds me of the shit I see by CCRU dick riders
>>9326672
rap lyrics/10 Pls don't kill yourself. I'll listen to your mixtape. Seriously though.
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>>9327182
What do you mean by rap lyrics
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>>9327186
The fairly short sentences, subject matter, word choice, repetition and especially the interjections scream spoken word to me. I'm even rapping it in my head a bit as I'm reading it. The flow is broken every now and again, but it then it picks up again.
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>>9326672
too much pauses, it sounds like i'm singing spoken word jazz
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I'm writing a sequel to a fantasy novel I wrote a year ago. I have five books planned out in total. Still trying to get an agent for them.
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>>9327269
too many adjetives, unnecessary descriptions and useless stuff, very slow reading.
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>>9326883

Yeah, this is really nice. The 2nd part isn't nearly as good as the first, but the first is really nice. Honestly, if you polished up the first part and changed it a bit, it could be a piece of flash fiction. Of course, you have a story you want to tell, but just from what I've been given, I'd want to read it. Maybe I'm just a sucker for this kind of writing
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>>9327269
Yeah this was horrible, you could cut that in half and it would still be terrible.
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>>9327289
Thank you that's boosted me quite a lot!!!
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>>9327274
Good luck!
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>>9327637
Thanks. The books have grown a lot as I've read and written more. I hope they'll be genuinely great by the time they're done. I take a lot of inspiration from Gene Wolfe, in particular, in my quest to make literature out of genre fiction.
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[From a short story I'm working on...]

In response, Kyra merely rolled her eyes, sighed and laid back down on her towel, her hands over her head as Brandon grabbed his undersized light-blue inflatable tube and chucked it down into the water. “Don't worry, babe” he nervously chuckled, “I'll be okay... Haha, yes siree. Whoo! Man!”
Upon hearing the tube finish its lofty descent, Brandon started jumping up and down and cursing the insanity of his decision under his breath. Kyra removed her hands from her head and smirked at the thought at him pulling out now. He's such a little bitch sometimes, she thought to herself. Yet Brandon was clearly undeterred today. In a matter of seconds he calmed himself down and shuffled right to the edge of the cliff. Once he was there, he began an almost-superstitious ritual - he slowly pushed his arms out to the side, brought them in again, and took a deep breath. Then, after an eternity elapsed of him holding that pose, he did the unthinkable - he hopped off of the cliff, screaming all the way down. Kyra instantly got up and nervously looked over the ledge again upon hearing him splash into the lake seconds later. Much to her relief, Brandon had reemerged from the water, gasping for air. He darted over to his tiny floaty instinctively, and began to relax once he realized he had, in fact, survived the jump.
“Okay, Kyra,” he yelled from the water, “your turn!”
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A fantasy story about an exiled knight and a minster whose his only friend. In the end the monster dues and the knight goes to the haunted wasteland in search of god and disinigrates into a spirit.
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>>9326538
Atop my throne I sit
Itching to shit
But all I can manage is drip drip drip
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Does any one want to help me with a couple of poems of mine? I've got a fair bit, would be more of an email sort of thing
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Distant shade showers comfort on towers made to touch the sky. When the light blinds those too small to find the sparkle of the stars, too far from lands both scarred and shone, a happy wanderer sits alone on his throne below the fields and above the sea. He lives and dies and no one cares but someone cries. Some dare to live their lives and as he tried. Others reach high. One touches the sky.
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>>9328093
Whoops these are the people I liked most, but I'm proud of ALL of you. Try and fail until everyone else has stopped trying!

>>9326553
>>9326883
>>9326900
>>9326944
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>>9327675
>Haha, yes siree. Whoo! Man!”
I half read that while scrolling down and thought you were writing Negan.
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Self-advertising is an act
I want my poetry to be seen
And that's a fact
So read my thoughts and
Judge me to death
Be it my advertising
Or my poetic meth-
Odds are against me
But I don't care
I bet there are no links allowed
But I still dare to annoy
In hopes of bringing someone joy
Or sadness really
Disguised with laughter
And with clever puns
But who am I to talk
You are the ones
To judge

https://poeticmurder.wordpress.com/
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"Pain!?" He yells "pain is the reason for life, for pain has taught me to love and pain has taught me to distinguish my feelings. Sadness pain and happiness pain. Sad pain is when death is acquainted, a lover vanishes from the palm of your hand, or when your dog doesn't return home, or when... There's so many sad pains
But Happy pain is different, the type of pain you'd go through over and over again for the people who'd do the same for you"
"Pain!?" He screeches, "oh sweet pain, how it hurts to feel so good!"
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skeletal riddim
white bones chalk night
kite high moon shine
light city river raft
tick tock above
streets empty handed
men blow & black drunk
chimes rattling smoke puffing
brelly full o' worms song
gutter drunk hat wearer forever
cabs cruisin' yo home to bel air
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Who does not love the night? With her colours and columns and waves. Her mild ubiquity, the sister of day. Who does not love the night? Like Life's inner soul she breathes the titanic space of stars, swimming in their blue deluge. I want to dwindle down on beads of dew into ash - long life's short joys, drab gowns, verspertine nebulas. Must tomorrow come? blablabla
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>>9327269
this feels really overwritten. 'Unremmitting rays of power that demanded primary attention from the eyes?' Why not just 'blinding/obscuring/distracting sunlight'?
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Say I'm looking for inconsequential advice for writing (names) is it alright to make a thread on this board or does it belong on /adv/?

I need a name for the leader of a lawful-good globally-reaching military force - he has had no real combat/distress experience due to the efficiency of the organization so I'm looking for a passive or neutral sounding name
fantasy
vague/edgy latin welcome

Loremaster _____
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>>9328260
It's honestly pretty bad, there's better on your website.
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They have to pay for what they did
From out a bank account of pain
And crumpled in the icy rain,
Regret the time they crossed the kid
Through cities of forgotten name
He chases them by dark and light
They find a bar in which to hide,
At last to drink away the shame
It's safe, or so it seems, inside
There's banging on piano keys
But just beyond the wooden wall,
Dead leaves dance to a silent breeze
The door is sudden ripped apart
And they are faced with their mistake
Don't throw strange things into the lake,
Make sure to finish what you start.
>>
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.

How many months had it been since power went out? A book of lined paper in the survivor’s backpack had been used to keep track of the date, at least roughly. The idea came to him early on when the cities were in a panic, the biters cropping up in hospitals as unfortunate individuals died. Some gained infection-like sickness without a bite which was generally considered the primary way of getting infected, though anyone who passed on with their brain intact would inevitably return to join the legion of the endlessly hungry.

>inb4 'lel zombieshit'
>inb4 'lel genre fiction'

Can provide more on request.
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>>9328855
I'm neither a native speaker nor a writer so take whatever i say with a salt shaker, but i feel "and disgusted him the greatest" sounds a bit awkward, wouldn't disgusted him most work better?
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I tend to think of something dumb/funny, write a bit and cringe about it next day. Feel free to cringe with me. This started as a dumb pun and then I wrote whatever came off the top of my head.
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>>9328093
>and an

Very good, anon. Is there more or is this the whole piece? Because it works by itself.
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>>9328874
>unsettled and disgusted him the greatest.
The dead do unsettle and disgust him, but in this excerpt he's basically thinking about what unsettles and disgusts him the greatest, meaning the most. 'Greatest' doesn't necessarily mean good, for example it could probably be said that WWII was the greatest loss of human life brought by any war in human history. That's not saying it's 'good' or 'great', but in such vast numbers that it's more than any other war. 'Greatest' means 'most', basically. Just like Wayne Gretzky is called 'The Great One' because he's seen as the greatest hockey player to have ever lived, he is the best, or at least he was. He's retired now and getting up there in age.

They also called WWI 'The Great War', not because it was hugely fun and everyone had a good time. It seen some of the biggest advancements in warfare in human history at the time, things like tanks, huge clouds of gas that made people seemingly drown on dry land, thousands of people dying in single days, even 10,000+ people being killed in a single day. So when I say something 'unsettled and disgusted him the greatest', it means it unsettled and disgusted him the most, more than anything else. Or in this case he THOUGHT it did, but he was mistaken. Still, thanks for the critique, and it was indeed given a pinch of salt to help improve the flavour.
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>>9328976
Fuck. and as*
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>>9326565
>I shall never be as beautiful as that man in the picture
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>>9328093
>>9328943
These are the best in the thread.
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>>9328943
>complementary

i not e, yo, but this is funny in a cute way. Pretty well written, too, just don't get too self-pitying. Sometimes the best things you write are in the middle of what you think isn't very good.
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I love you all for writing.
>>
>>9330477
Thanks man, I wrote the distant shade one. Does anyone else think it should be longer? I like it by itself but I could extend it, too. I might end up writing a series of these, inspired by lyricism/poetry in a prose style.
>>
>>9326900
comfy
>>
>>9326538
>le bookie lad look
How contrived. sad!
>>
Though some men wish for love and wealth
Or women, fast and free;
And others life, eternal health -
That wouldn't do for me.

There's really not so much on Earth
I crave, in truth, at all:
For nothing beats (for what it's worth)
A crayon and a wall.
this is my first time here. i usually posted poems on deep web forums as they were sane there. So i guess cc if you want.
>>
He was wearing a black suit, thin, black, and always with a cigarette in hand. "Where do you thinking you're going pa?l" someone had bumped him" Any where I damn want" what the heck? What is this guy doing he knows that the guy in front of him is seven hundred pounds. Biotransplants to be half gorilla and a half Mugs/ Slap! Slapped across the face he went flying "a boy like you ought to have some respect round here" he got up "Hhh- you think thank that'll stop me old chap?" He moved under his undercoat and came out with a dozen pounds of steel straight into the lugs head. The fleschette mist tore him apart. "that outta cool you down, hothead"

He went inside. The bar was looking at him "Anybody seen Richie?" he shot into the air and silence punctuated the deafness. Richie was in the back his hand on the knife on the hotdog. "Be right out friend" he said wiping his blade with his tongue. He walked out drying it on his apron "What's the matta?" he dropped his gun and fell to his knees crying "He's gone Richie HE"S GONE"
>>
>>9332050
This is fun. Definitely better than most attempting poetry can do.
>>
>>9328809
Obviously the website itself was the main deal
>>
>>9332050

And since I actually got a response, I will also commend this one. Great job with that flowing and easy-going rhythm, you know what you're doing.

Could certainly read more of your stuff.
>>
>>9328943
Good fun, it's nice to see some humor in this thread for once.
Anyone else read it in Cave Johnson's voice?
>>
Infinite Jest is a big heavy book.
I read half of it,
Got side tracked,
Used the rest to prop up a very wobbly chair

Read it while high.
Yes, I know I'm cool,
Thank you.
It still didn't make that much sense...

Maybe I'll read it thus summer.
Drop everything --
Except that book,
You could break a toe that way
>>
>>9326538
why is his cup so small

does he not like what he's drinking?

also why is he wearing the autism weeb meme jacket
>>
>>9332638
Because he's drinking espresso,
And no he does not like it because it must be black to fill some pre conceived notion of an artist.
Same could be said of the jacket.
Or he just likes suede, can't blame him there, only leather I wear.
>>
>>9332638
jesus how out of touch with reality are you?
>>
>>9332127
sorry anon im at uni, no time to critique, and a half hearted critique is just shitposting in disguise.

>>9332337
ta m8, i used to write but shit happened and now i don't, that was my last one and threw away all my other ones, if i find any, i'll post.

>>9332103
ta m8

unrelated question but does anyone know any active onion chans?
>>
>>9332635

Against my better nature, I liked this.
>>
>>9326900
http://vocaroo.com/i/s16IKQjvM8Af
>>
>>9328943

Except for the pears dont have sense organs.part, this has lots of potential. Very portals.
>>
>>9327031
You could try enjoying life a little? Why not
>>
https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?p=31287783#p31287783

https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?p=31440572#p31440572

Thoughts on these would be appreciated.
>>
>>9333626
nice :)
>>
>>9327031
>My mental illness is most fortunately a manageable case, nevertheless, one that hinders me socially but as long as I remain fairly alone, excepting for the company of my wife, Jane, I do well enough, always on the outskirts, however, always a voyager in the aberrant surreal, which can be entertaining in its own right nonetheless.

Worst sentence I've read this week, congratulations.
>>
An orange cardboard light kept Maria’s bedroom lit enough (to make loving out of sex). Her face was very close to mine and I could see her twice; it made me aware of my eyes and of the dusty abysses between their crystal and me; and of the incongruities of matter between my eyes and her, and her eyes and me; I wonder did she know it.
When I wondered “was she there” I, too, wondered: she may be wondering whether I am there or not, and she may be wondering whether she’s there or not; and actually she may be wondering whether I may be wondering whether me or her are there or not… I wonder is this how we talk.
(There?)
I do not claim a thing, I blame the otherness in me, but I admit that I may or may not have believed that our ghosts knew the same and felt the same while rotting, growing and shining in mirrors of different ghost-towns.
I kept wondering, and I wondered whether she knew what I do not know I know, but a soft hand fell on me, sun-bathed by a lone dysfunctional eyeball-nerve (it served as a remainder —not real—), and I did not flinch. Proud of myself, I teleported from zero to there and she smiled. I wondered whether she knew and whether I could ever know and I blamed my wonders.
The weather was nice; the lake gleamed happily. We had coffee and a nice breakfast that left its smell of niceness around the flat; no more whethers appeared until the next night, which was an omen of a future second breakfast and a future second coffee (which were an omen of daily-niceness and wondering-nights).
>>
>Worst sentence I've read this week, congratulations.

Best sentence I've read this week, SAD!
>>
>>9327031
,,,, ,,,,
,,,
,,,,,, ,,,,,, ,,, ,
>>
>>9335630
That, in itself, is not, a valid, critique, old chap.
>>
"Just do it!" A scruffily dressed man blurted out, gently nudging his friend with a pale, disheveled elbow, yet she was too lost in thought to feel the it. A small smile coated her evenly parted lips, painted naturally with a light scarlet hue. A sudden wave consideration usurped her features, betraying her instincts and replacing her usually solemn stare with a delighted grin that she soon regretted showing. "Come on, I know you're thinking about it, hun." he continued teasing, every syllable gained another shy smile from the short girl he was seated next to. She didn't need to speak for anyone looking to know that she was practically convinced by now- her flashes of sheepish grins and the redenning of her now warm cheeks unmasked her answer better than any words could.

Yet she remained silent. Without verbal agreement, she didn't have to do anything. No matter how curious she was, she knew the risks and still had to contemplate them with careful precision. A whirlwind of thoughts, each one indecipherable, swarmed her cluttered mind as she tried to weigh out her options but a dark veil lay above her reasoning, thwarping any progress . Blank nothingness returned to her features, her mind continually drawing blanks instead of a decision. Unfounded rage brooded inside her veins, the calamity of not being able to reach a verdict irritated her to the very core. "ENOUGH" screeched a meek voice, hidden deep under the surface of her consciousness. Silence and serenity purified her thoughts, like a wave of sparkling ocean gently lapping against the the edge of the voidless earth.

Thoughts on this? I'm probably gonna re write it since it's shit atm and doesn't make sense
>>
>>9326553
Hard premise to buy, most schizos end up hobos or cared for by poor family members. Rich ones live in hospitals. It could be a decent story desu, but you make it harder for yourself to make something of substance.
>>
I rode the knowledge wave through the glowing sea, cool breeze in my hair as I watched for islands on the horizon. It was 2:30 AM eastern, and the sea was quiet. Once in a while I'd see another person out in the distance, but most of the time I was alone.
>>
>>9327031
Up its own bum a bit. Less verbosity and it could be alright, there's something in the flow you've got there.

For example:
>the earth is a little planet in a vast universe, and I'm quite smaller than the earth.
is superfluous, because no shit sherlock
>>
>>9326538
this onee's called, So I Sez

“So I’m at charlie’s baah downstays, en get this, yuh not gonna beliede this: am aving my lunch at work roight? This godaym kid who works en in’th godaym mailroom, er sumthin, he comes in he sez, ‘Shit boy she got her face in the bread! Boi she got her face in the bread!! Duuuu I gots to get this shit on camera bruh!’ And so I sez, furst of all Chad, yuh not from Spanish Arlem yuh from JFK Intuhnational Aiport, alright? Now what in holy fuhk wuz you goin on about?!”


Joey, who is going on like a Greek, stands to ash his filtered cigarette in an upturned New York Jets novelty firefighter hat, which, funnily enough, Joey bought for himself, thinking it would be great on Sundays with the Boys, only to be absolutely positively shattered when he opened the box, which he had been anxiously awaiting on his lunch break for, for weeks, and realized at once that a novelty firefighter hat at the unbelievable-but-ultimately-believe-enough price of $17.97 was, in-fact, too good to be true; a cherry molts its dead skin and Joey goes on and on into the morning until the time when one can finally drive home (after finding themselves on the back-nine of their inebriation).


It has always been like this way, since the beginning of time…walking back to the cave, or from the cave in the suggestion of safety over the farthest mountain, probably when you could have finally seen in defined in the horizon. Oh, what do we know? It seems like that’s the only time I can imagine some great big happy family, when they’re looking way backward or way forward. I now pronounce you wayward man and wayward wife, go out from this place and die.
>>
>>9326538
Oranges are the same as apples
I know this to be true
For if one were to squint their eyes
They surely share a hue

Start of something I've been working on
>>
They stood amid a huge expanse of infinite white snow. Everywhere was covered in it. They themselves were on a sort of hill; below there was a long depression in which hung a frigid grayish mist. The wind came at them in an endless swell of ice that only grew and amplified the cold that smashed into them like a wall. Above the clouds were an impenetrable ceiling. In the far-off distance rose great mountains white as milk that clawed bone-hard and razor sharp into the frozen sky. The cold still pressed, they kept on thinking and perceiving because it was so utterly impossibly incapable of being overlooked because it was so cold. The cold was nearly painful on their skin and in their inner hearts and souls.
>>
>>9335849
He could just have found the mansion. Have it be abandoned and spooky. Alternatively it could be inherited.
>>
>>9336393
Lame desu
>>
Have some bad poetry :^)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r-6CBtzDhLf4PS4w4hNtx2wbaQUBN8U7KgOyLNJTJnc/edit?usp=sharing
>>
>“Fuck it.” Thought Stuart, he’d worked at the cinema for over a year, did his work without any verbal complaint: and was generally considered at least an average worker by his colleagues: why shouldn’t he go for the job?

>Stuart put the dust-pan and brush to one side, tucked in his shirt, made sure his ruffled bedhead was at least presentable (and failing): and approached the manager’s office door, knocked, and waited.

>A moment later the door clacked open, revealing Stuart’s two managers who were sat on swivel chairs: to Stuart’s left was Bruno, the youngest of the two managers: acting as assistant manager. He, like the other manager, Clark, reminded Stuart of the goon-ish thugs one might see in a child’s cartoon: except they were dressed in button down shirt and ties which clung to their portly bodies: they slouched in their seats, legs parted.

>“What’s up?” said Bruno.

>“I-I’d like to speak to Clark.” Said Stuart.

>“Alright, come in.” said Bruno.

>Whilst Bruno looked like a thug, Stuart liked him more than Clark: Bruno was soft-spoken, and generally easy to talk to. Clark on the other hand seemed to bark even when making small talk, and always seemed to be sizing you up when you spoke to him.

>“Yeah?” said Clark, chewing a pen.

>“I saw a supervisor position’s open. I’d like to put myself forward for it.” Said Stuart.
Clark gave nothing away as to how he felt about this: he chewed on his pen whilst gently swaying in the swivel-chair, legs still parted.

>“Stuart.” Said Clark.

>Stuart swallowed, readjusting his posture to stand a little straighter.

>“You’re not cut out for the role.” Said Clark.

>Stuart asked why not, his voice breaking a little.

>“You know Edwin?” said Clark, rhetorically.

>Stuart nodded: Edwin was one of his co-workers: a young-black man with broad shoulders and a commanding, but also charismatic presence. Stuart didn’t mind him. Was Clark going to give Edwin the position?

>“Would you be able to tell Edwin what to do?” said Clark.

>The question, though simple and obvious, stunned Stuart. The time he took to find an answer made any he might come up with futile.

>“You see what I mean?” said Clark.

>A long, awkward pause later and Stuart was out the office. He imagined Bruno and Clark were smiling to each other as he left. Stuart didn’t even want to be working in the Big-Screen in the first place: he knew he was better than menial labour: he knew he had more to give the world than that: yet here was Clark: a simple store manager, who might as well have been emperor of the galaxy to Stuart. What stung most was that Clark was right: he wouldn’t be able to stand up to someone like Edwin: he’d always avoided confrontation like the plague. Stuart felt stupid for even going into the office in the first place.
>>
An excerpt from a thing I am working on.


“Alright, Lambert, I know you’re upset, so just be calm. Think of something you enjoy. What’s something you enjoy?”

Lambert paused and with a frown adopted a very serious expression, taking time to think on Al’s question as though it held some greater deeper importance that the rest of us could never truly comprehend. The three of us merely stayed quiet while he thought. None of us knew what to do or say when waiting for somebody to consider what they personally enjoyed the most. It was taking an uncomfortable amount of time. Was I supposed to give out some examples? What the hell. This shouldn’t be hard.

With a grunt Lambert nodded to himself, satisfied with his conclusion, and looked back to Al and said, with a sincere and heartfelt smile, “Casual racism.”
>>
>>9326538
friend of mine is having a birthday party. said she didn't want anything, but I hate to show up empty handed so i thought I might write her a poem. here's what I got so far. I'm trying to make a reference to every period in theater history since we're both in the theater department at our college.

were we a troupe of Greeks,
you would be our muse.
or, as the Romans would say,
"Dominique,
Tu es spiritus!"

to grace Constantine's stage
with dance, speech, and mime.
they'd dub thee like Hrosvitha,
the greatest
woman of our time.
>>
This is just random parts really, it needs an actual story and fleshing out.


I once read that on average everybody swallows around 7 spiders a year in their sleep. They climb in there for warmth or the damp and you start to chew them and swallow them, maybe they just crawl down into your stomach and can’t find a way out and die down there. See, this has always reminded me of my life. The idea that some disturbing event occurs that is totally out of your control, the difference is that disturbing events had been happening to me for a long time now and I know too much to just turn back, I think people have been watching me. I get a crawling sensation sometimes, when I’m digging through the internet, my face glowing in the light of my laptop. It’s like the spiders didn’t die in my stomach and they are in my blood stream sometimes, that’s how I feel. The disturbing events are inside me now and have become part of me. I need answers to the questions I didn’t know I’d asked.

Today is my bosses birthday, he is 60 today. And this time last year he was 59 and so on. I hate these yearly events when I have to pretend to care about someone I don’t know, and why would you even celebrate the fact that the earth has circled the sun once more time since your birth, it’s just so irrelevant.
>>
>>9337454
“Morning Chris” he sticks his head out of his office which he never does but he needs my attention.
“Hey Mike, happy birthday, what are you 50 this time?”
I hate myself. “ha ha I’m 60 today actually but I do keep a healthy diet and I’ve always made sure to keep..”
He stops at the sound of the canteen door slamming shut as I walk through it, the sound like an index finger to his lips and a rapid shushing sound to follow.

I kind of feel bad for the guy, he seems lonely but I get the feeling he wasn’t always that way. It’s like he is fighting to get back to some former glory but he knows it’s too late. I like to give lives to people around me in my head, Mike is divorced with children he doesn’t get to see because the divorce was messy. He got pushed around during the divorce and lost everything. That’s his problem, he’s just too nice. Or maybe he isn’t, and that’s the beauty of never really getting to know anyone, they could be anyone, in fact they are whoever I make them. Life is more manageable that way. The truth is is that I’m too young to be expected to have achieved anything significant in my life but I’m getting to that age where I understand I probably never will if I keep stumbling through life and ignoring the warning signs of mediocrity.
>>
Probably the last chapter to my ~~first novel~~
>>
>>9333626
You have a nice reading voice, and thanks, but.. uh.. why?
>>
>>9335849
My plan is making the mansion inherited.
>>
>>9337454
you realize that spider statistic was made up?
>>
>>9332635
This gave me a hearty kek.
>>
>>9337498
wew
>>
>>9339265
>>9337454

The thing about semiotics is that it builds on itself, in your mind. So when you see something that shares some similarities with another thing, they become joined together.
For example, if you see a spider, that becomes the symbolic spider in your head. Then when you see another spider, they are similar but not identical, but your brain takes the second spider and adds it to that semiotic box of spiders, they both become symbolic of spiders
and over time your brain adds more and more spiders to the box
until one day you die and all the hundreds of thousands of spiders come crawling out through your ears, like a wave of legs, eating everything in sight
the world will be consumed by the crawling black tidal waves
every living thing, all flesh, all plant matter
as the spiders gush never ending
pouring from your nose, eyes, ears, anus, genitals, your pores, from beneath your fingernails
people and animals run before them, screaming
but it will not stop
it can not stop until there is nothing left but spiders
and then they will turn on each other
a vast cannibalistic arachnid orgy of violence
life on Earth blinks out, dead and six-legged.
>>
I recently started writing a novel, so far I have all the page numbers done. Now I just need to fill in the rest
>>
Has anyone made a story board for a game? How different is it from other types of writings?
>>
>>9339463
decent post
>>
>>9339297
Is it bad? For what its worth its supposed to be very dream-esque, the rest of it isnt written nearly as try-hard
>>
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>>9330477
>>9332361
You like me, you really like me!
>>9330943
Fair point about being too self-pitying, but it was more about managing expectations since i rarely write and i tend to struggle with dialogue and describing the surroundings in which the story takes place. But seeing how i got a positive response i might try a bit harder. >>9333640
You're probably right, it would work just as well without it.
>>9336652
I enjoyed it, wasn't expecting the ending, but this being 4chan i probably should've. "Think of something you enjoy. What’s something you enjoy?” feels a bit redundant to me though.
>>9337498
Its not my cup of tea, it feels overly dense and verbose. But it being the last chapter it might make more sense in the context, and honestly, if you've read up until that point you're gonna finish it.

Since i got a suprisingly pleasant response here is another one, this is just the last paragraph since it ended up a bit longer then expected. I put possible alternatives in brackets, you're encouraged to chime in on your preferences.
>>
I wanted to write a small novel about a father who secretly hides his undead daughter away in a cellar after she commits suicide at the beginning of the novel. I'm debating on whether I want it to end with the father coming to terms with her death (and putting her down), or dying after being cornered by authorities and taking his own life in a fire (after murdering everyone who discovers the truth of his cellar. I don't know of I want for this to be a tragic exploration of loss, or outright human desperation as a man refuses to let go of his daughter.
>>
Don't forget to join the non-official 4chan writing discord!

https://discord.gg/PMr7U

We could use a few more non-genre authors, to be quite honest.
>>
>>9326573
painfully so
>>
Emma:
Where's DeSean at?

Emily:
I donno, he said he was cummin'

Derek:
Maybe we should start without him

Lily:
Fuck it, let's go

A car drives off. A few seconds DeSean is seen running after the trail. A bright light emitted in the skyline. DeSean felt the ground shake and white light consumed him.

Lily:
Step on it!

Emma speeds up the car. But the sheer force of light made the roads crack and rise. The car was engulfed by white light.

When the smoke cleared the car and the four friends were merely skeletons.
>>
>>9340069
I'm curious, is becoming undead a regular thing in that world, or is it a one time fluke? I'd prefer the second version, though unless he lets the undead daughter go, killing everyone and himself seems a bit weird for someone whos obviously got enough humanity to care about his daughter. It would make more sense to me if when he figures the authorities are coming he burns the 2 of them. But i guess you can make anything work if you frame it well enough.
>>
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I'm writing a pulpy piece of grimdark sci-fi. It's absolutely pleb tier. Anyone want to read some?
>>
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>>9340542
I like some of the stuff going on here, but some of the phrasing and tense is off.

Is English your first language?
>>
>>9340069
I know you didn't ask for my version of your story but I just had a neat idea.

>Daughter tries to commit suicide
>Father catches on and locks her in cellar for her own good
>He ends up depriving her of her needs and they both go off the rails
>The narrative shifts focal points from both the daughter and the father
>The father ends up convincing his daughter to kill the people who discover her in the basement
>However he himself never kills anyone

The question at hand would be who's responsible for said murders the crazed daughter or crazed father.
>>
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>>9340266
The scene descriptions are a little incoherent. Add some more details and clean up the grammar. I'm not sure what "a bright light emitted in the skyline" means. Is is on the horizon? Is it shining down from directly above?
>>
>>9339905
Yes its supposed to read overly dense + verbose! kinda like a dream-esque thing! The rest of the thing is more standard
>>
I've considered creating a website of some sort to post the rough draft of the book I'm currently working on. Would that be a good idea? Or is there little market on the internet to read some chuckle fucks unfinished rough draft.
>>
>>9341068
No.
>>
>>9341215
Thanks.
>>
>>9326538
In Ancient Greece, a young man of royalty rises up to avenge his father's murder. In the way he meets a young slave who will help him achieve his goal. Through the journey they'll face mythic monsters and men; both of them will learn what honor really means.

It's a comic
>>
>>9326634
Makes finnegans wake look like stephen king
>>
>>9332635
Solid chuckle m8
>>
>>9332715
>Drinking espresso nonblack
Are you a fucking pleb?
Coffee i get but jesus m8
>>
>>9342768
Take both black. But espresso is harsher than coffee, so I don't understand the logic here.
>>
>>9342803
Espresso (for plebs) is easier to distinguish flavor since its so concentrated
Coffee,especially the general shit u buy is just bland bitter shit so of course you can throw in creamer and whatnot
Unless you're an LA fag who is buying bullet 100% arabica cruelty free toxin free bullshit
>>
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Fuck reading it back some of it feels so stilted but please tear it apart
>>
>>9326883
I like it. Interesting idea, would love to read more with this character or a similar one
>>
>>9342819
Your mass of assumptions and very strange evaluation of things make me not want to talk to you.
You seem kinda dumb.
>>
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>>9342834
>>
>>9342850
Considering i worked as a bitch in a production office for a big tv show,where every shitbird had an opinion on coffee, abd was the one responsible for getting it for everyone
I know a thing or two about the shit
>>
Fat had heavied her hips and bastioned her breasts. She resembles a prehistoric fertility figure. Downy brown pubic hair only a little darker than her braids. Godforsaken Brazilian Juliann.

She doesn't like me to walk around the house naked, not because the sight of me will bruise innocent boyish eyes, or because she finds any such globular glimpses offensive, but because she has become a prude. Vainly, she perfumes her body like a whore. What for, I wonder but I cannot find the time for suspicion.
>>
I have been able to decide, having lived my entire life about twenty or even less miles from a beach my entire life that it truly is the worst place to ever go. Firstly, the beach is a horrid place full of humans; the same species that murdered six million Jews, and yes they even invented midget pornography! They congregate to do what then though, stare at the water? Maybe swim? Play with the sand? Firstly, if you have a monitor you can stare at the water that way and put some ocean sounds on and turn on a lamp close to your face to get the heat. Secondly you can swim in a swimming pool, say you don’t go on that vacation to the beach for a few years then you have a spanking swimming pool and you can even make into your own little beach with some work. Thirdly, sand. It will get anywhere and everywhere; yes even there. Sand is a horrid, horrid thing made of tiny rocks and minerals. Imagine saying, “Yes honey, let’s go to the beach and sit there for an extremely long time doing nothing except getting skin cancer, swimming in terrible water with jellyfish, sharks and stingrays, and then track sand to where we will find six months later in our favorite pairs of jeans!” what a stupid ass thing to do, right?

Then how are places like the beach so popular? It’s absolutely atrocious and also you look horrible in that swimsuit (unless you are Mila Kunis).

Once, on a church trip with some friends we all went to the beach and decided to have some fun. It was miserable. Imagine God punching you repeatedly in the liver and kidney’s, that’s what the waves felt like. After constant trial and error we all gave up and let the waves take their course on us. We all ended up getting sucked in by the waves, the punched in the liver by Zeus and then pushed back out of the waves, then sucked in and punched by Deus, and the pushed out and so on a so forth for around thirty minutes. When I got off the shore I looked like a meth addict who had been under a falling chandelier hanging from a glass skylight. I itched and scratched until I bleed everywhere and looked like an ebola patient. Then on my back my skin was peeling like an orange. Without a shirt on, from the back, I looked like a beached lobster with four limbs. I sat day-in and day-out in misery for what? Me and my friends didn’t have fun, it was terrible!

That’s why I’ve come to the conclusion that people that go to the beach regularly for vacation are either insane or stupid, or most likely a bit of both. Could be worse though, they could work in the EU parliament.
>>
>>9327044
Anyone...? Hot takes welcome.
>>
>>9327044

>apriori
should be "a priori;" it's two words.

>sinular and cosinular
why not just "sine and cosine?" adding "ular" is unnecessary complication

There should be a comma between formed and extending

>Each an eye without iris
Should be a clause of the previous sentence, by itself it's a fragment.

>weave work
one word. weavework. or weaving.

>but not predestined
unnecessary meaningless fluffy "distinction" as far as I can tell, unless you can explain what you mean by it?

weavework used twice in one paragrapoh sounds repetitive

>up riding the stream forever and away
also a fragment, make it a sentence or a clause of the previous sentence.
>>
a man struggling to comprehend his own perception whilst wandering the streets of a nondescript city at night, filled with flashing neon lights and crowded streets and strung out on drugs

would this be able to be pieced into a story of some sort
>>
>>9342834
Short sentences can be effective to break up a stream of long sentences and provide emphasis, but they lose effectiveness when literally every single sentence has extremely basic structure.
>>
File: whistle.png (236KB, 1546x1189px) Image search: [Google]
whistle.png
236KB, 1546x1189px
This is a poem I'm working on, I guess. idk I'm not very good at this yet.
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>>9326573
Yeah. You're ugly and jealous if you think otherwise.
>>
"Every time I saw her my asshole clenched. I never was quite sure why, until my psychiatrist told me it was because of gender dysphoria. At his request I started taking pills to become a girl with a penis. Then I had the penis flipped backwards and into my pelvis. Now, here I am, a girl with a reverse penis, all because the lumps in that woman's shirt excited my sphincter."
>>
>>9342952
Thanks, good edits. Sorry that last paragraph is pretty rough. Should have edited it some more before posting. It's throwing a bit of shade on the world as an absolute sequence of events while still acknowledging sequences of events. It's something I was thinking a lot about at the time, but I may cut it now

And fuck, I just like the way "sinular and cosinular" sounds, though. I'll think about it.
>>
>>
>>9339301
favorite.desu
>>
>>9339301
I really enjoyed this. Reminds me of Pinecone for some reason, but that intuition may be wrong.
>>
>>9343232
Needs some tweaking, but horror poetry is criminally overdue for a comeback. I like the way you play with sound and spacing. I like the semi-overwrought fairy tale framing up against the plain, lowercase dialogue. I might take out a few words (The overhead lights seem ((much)) too well placed), and the second paragraph could use a little clarity. Overall, promising start, anon.
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>>9343338
Thank you for the feedback, it's still very much unfinished, but I'll keep your thoughts mind.

Also, I didn't intend for it at all to be "horror poetry" which is kinda funny, but reading it back that is totally how it comes off. Maybe I'll develop that further.
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>>9339301
Got any more? Got a website? I am seriously into this.
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