/lit/ - Literature

Started editing my novel and it's so much harder than actually writing it. Any advice?

Thanks for setting us up again bro. Question: how do you guys feel about writing in a setting you have no real life experience of. As in being euro but writing about murrica etc?

>>18586828
Better to cut things up yourself than to have an editor tell you to do it.
>>18586831
It's fun to explore things.

>>18586828
Don’t rush it. As long as the ship keeps moving forward, you’re getting there. It’s the 80/20 rule.

>>18586845
80/20?

>>18586864
The last 20 % of the work will take 80 % of the time/effort. I mean it doesn’t have to be like that but you know, everything after that first bulk of work (the first draft) is that last 20 % of the work. Editing, proof reading, publishing, marketing etc. If you do it yourself it’s a lot of effort for very little output.

There she was. The lights from the barn illuminated her silhouette as she walked towards me. Her shoes only touched the ground by chance as she skipped off of the earth here and there, gliding towards me. She was shrouded by the contrast of the light behind her and the night in front, but through night’s veil I could see her smile. God, it really was that special kind of smile, the kind where some ineffable engine of the soul tells you that what you see is true and pure, and without doubt. I was absolutely sure, and I kissed her. We danced, and held each other, her hands pressed the small of my back and my hands held firm to the base of her neck and the curve of her hip. We had both been drunkened by old Sam’s whisky, and we both knew, and so we laughed. It was one of those times where you really peer out of the fog of everyday life, and you feel fresh and clear and importantly real. Here I can proudly say that for the rest of that night, I didn’t have one single thought. It was all I was to feel, and to be alive with her.
I woke up on the ground, leaves were all around me and the pink sun was rising. My head rang like a church bell broken, and I felt the sly weariness that only comes from early mornings after hard drinks. I didn’t know where I was, and remembering was arduous, but I felt her touch, and in the corner of my eye I saw long strands of blonde hair. The sunlight shone around the trees, but it shone through her hair. I felt myself smile, and I knew that I was happy.

I finally started piecing together the character profiles for the book I want to write.

>>18586960
I see, that makes sense.

>>18586996
I’m sorry and maybe if this has context i would read it but reading about an illuminated woman’s silhouette is so stealth to my interest radar that my eyes just moved away from the text. Can’t judge your prose cause only read 2 sentences but ”skipping” and gliding is kinda two different things. Sorry.

May someone provide a good quote from one of these /wg/ threads, I require it for my notes.

>>18587205
Learn from me, learn from me!

>>18586996
First sentence is unnecessary.
you are either missusing or being redundant with the work sillhouette: the dark shape and outline of someone or something visible against a lighter background, especially in dim light.
third sentence is unnecessary long, just say she was gliding towards you
again, just say in the next line that "through the night's veil I saw her smile"
God, it really was... a cliche in writing, don't (that damn smile)

Ergo, so far is not so good. Try and make shorter sentences and be taut in them, then you can add the good stuff. Write the facts and in whatever order you want to follow and then add the panache, but make sure not to sound repetitive (this sentence being an example.)

>Any progress on your novels?
Yes, I'm done now. I was never going to become the next Faulkner, the next Nabokov or the next Joyce, but I hid behind the language barrier to avoid criticism for months, maintaining an illusion that was fun to live in while it lasted. I had thought my country's education system to be topmost in the world, but this turned out to be utter bollocks. A child of 18, a person ten years my junior, has a greater vocabulary than I, who had to look up the word “topiary”, and no one likes the expression theory of art anymore, I am likened to a long lost dinosaur.
This will be my final post on /lit/. I've been humiliated and exposed as a fraud. My writing is pretentious, infantile, banal drivel. My observations are dull, my language grade school level. My tenses are mixed up; I use colloquialisms, ellipses and onomatopoeia. I mix tired and trite idioms together to obfuscate their unoriginality with a veneer of irony; I have continued to recite ornate Jewish chimpanzee parables with diminishing returns. The parable seemed very clearly to me to be asking me whether or not the now-grown-adult can choose. I say yes, of course, but that's not my issue.
I was never cut out for writing. I began writing my "book" on January 6th. Since then I've produced 112 thousand words for it. These words are a tide of garbage without value, without insight, without form. The themes of time, space, infinity, memory and pointless duelling are not present in my work. It was never real writing, it was anime and weebshit!
Story arcs, character arcs, narrative arcs, these are all outdated terms. You say what you hear, and only the anime fandom uses the term “arc” anymore. I am a toad! Look how many words I wrote, because apparently literature is bodybuilding and just aimlessly typing will somehow improve my writing. My appetites grew as I wrote, I set a goal of a 100 thousand words when I began, only for the cancerous growth to demand a 137 thousand words soon enough to be completed, and still I don't even know what genre it is that I'm writing. Is it autofiction? A comedy? A picaresque? Am I merely shitposting edgelord-triggering diarrhea in neo-emo gothic revivalist gestalt?
Regardless, I have failed, and even in my failure I have merely imitated how people who think they write well but write poorly write, and I couldn't even do that well. "Oh I can do that anytime if I wanted to" I thought, but no. I have put down my pen. Never again will my fingers click-clack across the keyboard. No more outlines, no more characters. Goodbye. Learn from me! Learn from me!

A black mass rises from the protesters between the gates of Tesseractive Industries and Nathaniel Flux’s car. This tar-like amoeba, for a second, looks like cola-pop in zero gravity. Its appendages seem as if intending to knead the blue and the ivory of the sky together. It goes up and briskly down into a thudding final expansion on Nathaniel’s windshield. This leaves him blind onward from his side of the car.
Both the stench of the black mass (which is sharp and oddly sweet) and the fear of another one makes him roll up the windows and lock the doors. He changes seats to the passenger’s and puts his seatbelt on. The visibility there is clearer, but one of the appendages of the black mass still blurs ahead. He tries, and fails, to make out Cecile among the protesters with his bare eye. Their voices are getting increasingly louder and meaner, and the stench starts to gain on him.
Fearing that the protesters will do the same, Nathaniel reaches from the glove box a bulky pair of glasses. They have a black frame holding orange lenses. Their hinges and temples are rigid and gradually change to wire-flexible where the earbuds that work as temple tips end. He puts the glasses on - the orange shade of the lenses is inconspicuous compared to the dust on them. After haphazardly wiping them, he sees Tesseractive Industries behind the protesters before the lenses turn translucent. A message that reads “Welcome, Adrian” appears on them. Three zig-zag eye movements (from right to left, vertically up and diagonally down) unlock the device which quickly opens the G-user browser.
The glasses open the G-user browser because Nathaniel’s brain has subconsciously informed his eyes that he desires to search for Cecile among the protesters. If he had desired to watch a video or read the Times, the glasses would’ve opened them instead.

>>18587528

His eyes move, and her name gives zero results around a hundred meters; then again to a thousand. Ceci gives a result right away, so he sends a call request since they are not G-friends. The request is declined once and twice, then one more time and another. The lenses turn back to a transparent orange because Nathaniel can hear the protesters closing in. He sees in them two types of data: The first one - the one he eschews reading - is intermittent and personal. Whenever he fixates on a protester who’s close enough, the glasses show their G-name, age, occupation, biography, and any other chunk of available information. This data keeps popping in and out of his lenses’ existence because his curiosity covets it and his ethics censure it, not because the glasses are malfunctioning.
The second type of data -the one that keeps sunking Nathaniel on the passenger’s seat- is sloganesque and lurid in any stretch of the word. Some protesters have signs that read “SUCCESSFUL SLAVES FOR DAYS: DISPOSE AT CONVENIENCE” or “ALWAYS PROWLING YOU TO SOOTHE YOU BEST”. A man who climbs on the hood of his car holds a sign that reads “THE G-LACES: THE PORTABLE GALLOWS”. The sign has a clever picture of a woman with some G-laces on. The hinges of the G-laces go up and u-turn down on the branch of a tree, and the earbuds that work as temple tips end on a noose around the woman’s neck.
Behind the man on the hood, a woman sees Nathaniel inside the car. Nathaniel stares at her, to which she quickly tries to pull the man on his hood back to the floor. She’s interrupted by the gates of Tesseractive Industries opening. Several men with dimensions similar to an old refrigerator step out. They shoulder through the protesters who split at their pace. Once they reach Nathaniel’s car, the shortest of the men sounds off:
“The declaration sent for a peaceful protest clearly states no form of prejudice against bystanders, nor third-party associates involved in TI’s [Tesseractive Industries'] activities. The protest is welcome to throw blood-wigs and revolt as long as they respect the previously stated.” His lips are tight and flat, just as the taser-baton in his hand.

Bully me, please.

>>18587524

Yo, it seems that you need editing your work, if you have that many words on a word doc since Jan and say that you are not "good enough" it means that you lazy ass is not doing the writer's job complete. Go and read the first paragraph of that piece and edit it. You don't have to do much, just read it, rewrite it if you want, and trim the fat.

>>18587556
first sentence does not intrigue me to keep reading. Sort of unnecessary.
Second and third line still don't tell me about the story.

Dude, almost everything in the first paragraph is you being pretentiously overcomplex. think of this as a first line:

The mahogany AM wavelengths scattered like the late afternoon light back in that autumn.

paragraph 2 is better, but it still seems that you are into a dick measuring contest, rather than writing.
first line it can't be infatuated because that's something powerful yet short. the hypothetical "if someone had" you ask is irrelevant.
3 times so far you have describe the voice of the man (in 3 sentences) and not talked about the frequency, which is the first line of the paragraph; change it. why is the description of the day outside both in this paragraph and so infuriatingly insipid?

Next paragraph is pointless too, just start paragraph 4 by saying that you were about to continue your investigation with pen and paper at hand (I already had finished 200 hundreds of those)

Oblivious: not aware of or not concerned about what is happening around one.

Final thoughts:
I won't read paragraph 4 because so far you have said nothing but the man and the radio. No plot so far. Stop trying to say "hey guys, look how big my dick is" and just write what's happening

>>18586996
As others have said, redundant and boring. Specifically, there is a complete lack of conflict and detail in this passage. If the details were crystallized a bit, this might work if it were the consummation of a protagonist's long-awaited desire. Like the protagonist had gone through a lot of trouble to seduce this girl and was now finally getting laid. As it stands right now, this reads a lot like that scene from Game of Thrones when Ser Loras (a closeted homosexual) is talking about his dream wedding to his future bride, and he goes into extreme detail about the gowns and decorations and only remembers the woman as a tedious afterthought.

Your tendency to write in the passive voice also adds a layer of what I presume is unintentional humor to your story. For instance, the phrase "We had both been drunkened by old Sam's whisky" makes it sound like your punch got spiked by a horny old man who wanted to watch you bang.

As for the good things: the description of the girl and the barn lights creates an aura of holiness, and the idea of the narrator's head ringing like "a church bell broken" lends further religious overtones to the scene. If you want this to stand on it's own, you might consider changing the middle portion to serve as a bridge between these two images: glowing woman, enhaloed by the barn lights, approaches our painfully virginal narrator, who then proceeds to have his sad, poetic notions about sex shattered by the crude reality, and then awakens the next morning with his metaphorical church bells having been broken. In fact, setting this passage adjacent to the barn was another stroke of brilliance, as it draws comparisons to a nativity scene.

>>18587708
Thank you for your feedback, anon.

The late August day that Sandy left, although I could tell you the date, felt divorced from time altogether. I could not tell you with any precision at what time we woke up together and at what time I fell asleep alone. What I do remember from that day was the cup of coffee I brought her (but did I make it in the pot, as I had done every morning for the that past year? or had I forgotten to replenish the bag and therefore instead bought some from the coffeeshop up the street, her a cold brew with a splash of oat milk and myself a cappuccino despite the humidity?) I remember also how immediately after her departure I furiously cleaned and packed the apartment while listening to what must have been the entire discography of Burt Bacharach. I remember not eating that night. I remember, as our friend who was driving also with Sandy across the country, wore a thin tank top through which her nipples were exposed, and how I felt that this fact seemed at odds with the entire occasion; I remember trying to keep myself together. But what sticks with me now most of all is the intensity of sobbing I had unleashed in her lap that morning, crying of a kind I had then scarcely known possible and have since become deeply aquatinted. And I remember her turning to look at me, as our friend ignited the engine, with that little kid look, and our looking at each other for as long as we could until the car turned the corner and out of my sight.

>>18587556
The concept intrigues me. I love the idea that there are secret worlds all around that we could find if only we took the time.

The prose could be improved. The erratic scattering of thought is perfect for this type of story, because that is exactly the type of person I imagine scanning radio waves for hidden frequencies. However, you tend to lapse into poetic descriptions which are at odds with the subject matter and the sparse characterization of the narrator, and some of them are just straight-up bizarre. I am having a hard time picturing a door being "pushed away" for instance. I would buy this book from the discount rack, but I probably wouldn't make it past the first chapter.

>>18587817
Dear Anon,
please see >>18587762

Kind regards,
Anon

>>18587556
i refuse to read past "traces of summer were holding onto their dear lives with vigour". you don't "hold onto dear life", you hold on to something "for dear life". "vigour" is a property of motion that's nonsensical when applied to a static relationship like "holding"; i can jerk off vigorously, i can't hold a cup of coffee vigorously. you're just haphazardly slapping random words together, it's terrible.

>>18587870
Your feedback is well-appreciated, anon.

>>18587556
>I pushed away the door that led into my living quarters
I imagined the character coming in like Hulk and shoving that door to hell

Jokes aside, it's fairly good. Didn't notice any mistakes, no nonsense. I'd definitely read more.

>>18587870
>"vigour" is a property of motion that's nonsensical when applied to a static relationship

Huh?
>1. Physical or mental strength, energy, or force
>2. The capacity for natural growth and survival, as of plants or animals.
>3. Strong feeling; enthusiasm or intensity:

>>18588046
Thank you for taking the time, anon.

>>18587770

Try to start with a simple sentence, rather than diving it into three. Also how is the perception of someone about a day "divorced from time". I think this is a dead giveaway for the plot, at least for me, sort of corny.

first sentence: sandy left so sad
second sentence: I don't remember when we woke up and when I fell asleep
(You see the problem in here?)

Parenthesis-wise, I hated all the vapid and long self inquiry.

You take her coffee and "furiously" cleaned the apartment after? listening to the discography of a man who has at least 10 albums? the character's cardio must be at point.

I never shit on a long sentence when done correctly; this is yours:

I remember, as our friend who was driving also with Sandy across the country, wore a thin tank top through which her nipples were exposed, and how I felt that this fact seemed at odds with the entire occasion; I remember trying to keep myself together.

The nipples of Sandy's friend show through her top; they were as big of "an elephant in the room" as our situation.

You are saying nothing of interest. You say Sandy left, but what does furiously cleaning the house and Bacharach have to do with anything? Her nipple showing friend I can see having a place in the plot, why don't you make an impersonal paragraph talking about Sandy leaving the sobbing ass of the character while describing Sandy's friend?

>>18586700


I ran my fingers through her long dark red hair and she turned with a warm smile. I bent and kissed her and whispered:

"I love you Inessa,"

"I love you too," She whispered back, her soft voice floating in the air like a pleasant melody.

I stared into those beautiful verdant eyes for a moment, almost getting lost in them like I have so many times before smiling again and going to the kitchen to grab a drink.

"How was work today, darling?" She asked me.

"Same as it's ever been but i'm not complaining," I said as I looked in the refrigerator," What did you do today?"

"Exercised. Did some planting and now i'm just writing in my diary as you could see,"

"Sounds like a relaxed day. Thermo?"

"Please,"

I came back into the living room, handing her the drink, our fingers grazing against each other before I sat down next to her and put an arm around her waist.

"Take a look," She propped her dairy into my lap.

I read it through and it couldn't be more of a pleasant read even if some of it was about menial things. She had an economy with words and used them so efficiently I often told her she should be a writer but she always waves me off in a joking manner. But there was one thing that caught my eye and made me look at her in a somber way.

"Do you really think you should include Pasha and Polina?"

"Why not? We live alone out here in the wild and we rarely have visitors. We certainly don't have records with the police and have no reason to come under suspicion. You ask me, Grisha, you're being a little too paranoid," She said with a toss of her luscious dark red hair.

A small tic she always did to let me know she was annoyed.

But that was too fucking bad.

"Wouldn't it be a hell of a thing if we finally got our revenge and then it comes undone because of one small article of evidence?" I said as I sipped my Thermo.

"Details in a notebook are hardly going to be as impactful as you think besides what we done, Grisha. If by some off the wall chance that we do get caught, it won't matter one bit, will it?" She pointed out.

I thought long and hard about it. Enough of a space of time to make Inessa think too. I finally nodded in agreement.

"Fine. You could have this little thing then but just...don't leave it laying out in the damn open, okay?" I said as I looked into her soulful eyes.

The corner of her lip curved into a crooked smile and she tilted her head as if to say, come on now, you should know me by now. It made me feel stupid but I had to say it anyways to get my point across with her.

>>18588114
>The nipples of Sandy's friend show through her top; they were as big of "an elephant in the room" as our situation.
KEK

>>18588114
Idea, if you may

Start with this.

The nipples of Sandy's friend show through her top; I guess they are as big of an "elephant in the room" as our situation right now. Sandy is leaving tomorrow with her...

>>18588152

Plot wise, I guess it's ok. Flair wise, I think it's tacky.

Not much to say about chronology, although the beginning of the conversation could start better, les insipid as "How was your day."

Also, "who will suspect us here, alone and apart in the wild" can't you just describe the place out of the dialogue? think about it. You have described at least two times the eyes and the hair of the lady, why don't erase some of those descriptions and consequently, before the conversation starts, you describe the place

>>18588253
Thanks for the critique my friend!

>>18586831
>Question: how do you guys feel about writing in a setting you have no real-life experience of.
Sometimes it's write what you know and from experience, other times it's not easy. I don't have much real-life experience when it comes to space warfare or life in an orbital habitat, so sometimes you just gotta it up convincingly I guess. Or draw from experience and tangibly apply it to your setting in some way or form.

Where shall I start this story? At the beginning? The end? Or perhaps the middle? So much to be told, and every second ticks by to the oblivion of disinterest as the reader glazes his eyes over my text. Ah! She danced down the promenade, sensual towards me. A glittering summer sun cast nets of dazzling lace from the water of life itself. Everything was good. Really, really good. You know that good feeling you get when you you know you're falling in love? Yeah, it felt like that. Falling downwards as she danced sideways in the direction of my area. She was pretty good-looking. Hot, but in a subdued, approachable way. Her words felt like something really good in my ears, looking at her was like looking at something really beautiful, and she touched me softly when she touched me. We had fun that day. First we did one fun thing, and then we did something that was exciting, and then we finished the day with something else that was relaxing. At the end of the day I felt good because we were in love and we'd been doing a lot things that were fun. The scene faded to black and then when I woke up she was in bed with me, if you catch my drift. I'm blushing so hard right now as I imagine myself describing it to you. Now the story is over, and I'm going to count the hours until it would seem appropriate to respond to my friend's text. She didn't respond to my "good morning :)" until noon, not that I like her or anything, she's like a sister to me. Teehee.

>>18588380
0/10

>>18587528
>>18587536

I would really appreciate an honest opinion of this first chapter. Whatever you think of it, I'm all ears. I have given my opinion to all texts in here so far, I hope I don't sound whinny about it.

>>18588075
oh gee i guess since the dictionary says vigour means strength then my ass smells vigorously of shit. a dictionary won't give you the real usage patterns of a word, you need to actually read books. "he held his briefcase with vigour" is nonsense, but he could pick it up with vigour because that's a motion through which his energy, strength etc is expressed.

>>18588114
I appreciate the detailed reply, although I do feel I should push back on some of it (although your overall points are completely correct, particularly the first one).

>You say Sandy left, but what does furiously cleaning the house and Bacharach have to do with anything
The ideal here, which I want to try to accomplish with as much compression as possible, is to evoke a feeling of disjointedness and void within the character, simultaneously being unable to look at the fact of the departure (thus cleaning and not eating instead of the typical sadness after a breakup), but also being unable to think of anything *but* the breakup. Ideally, what I'd like to achieve, is something akin to a perfect fossil of the narrative, where you can see exactly what it is (the narrative) and what is missing (catharsis, the meaning of going through such an event). A ghostly reconstructing where you can never look directly at the thing that is happening but only around it, like what Sebald does.

But you're right that there's too much indulgence in the parentheses and perhaps the thread is too bare. I appreciate it.

>>18588380
>>18588380
>her words felt like something really good in my ears.
>Everything was good, really really good.
>She was pretty good-looking
>looking at her was like looking at something really beautiful
>she touched me softly when she touched me
I could continue.
nonspecific, specially that empty metaphor of yours "looking at the lightbulb was like looking at something very bright"


First line only acts as a hook, although it doesn't tell anything about the story. erase and start the paragraph in "Ah! She danced down the promenade..."

I dislike how the narrator says stuff like "a glittering summer sun cast nets of dazzling lace..." and then says stuff like "she didn't respond to me "good morning :(" until noon, not that I like her or anything..." I hope you can see the problem here. (Suggestion: take all electronics away from this story, don't know why I lean on this thought though.)

>>18588420
Unrelated anon here, "'he held his briefcase with vigour" is totally not nonsense. By going by my interpretation of your definition, as long as a word shows motion, then it could be defined as "virgour". A hold could definitionally show motion. The clenching of hands upon the handle of the briefcase, or other such things, could express his energy. That he is perhaps highstrung, or in this example, vigourous. While you're correct, there might be better words for it, it is a far venture to think that it is total nonsense.

Thoughts on the love interest in my novel? Is she cute?

Please respond.

>>18588468
I get your drift, maybe you could add some repetitive behavior, like "he had cleaned his dining table for the third time" or "he mop the floor on the first album he played, then again on the third, and again on the seventh"

Keep it simple, man:
She left yesterday - he cleans and cleans and cleans the house - he sits down to watch a movie with a man and a woman kissing - he cleans the house again - he goes to bed and feels the empty side - he wakes up and washes the dishes.

That should serve you right for an introductory paragraph, maybe after that you can mention that new neighbor that's hot and wears a t-shirt of the man's favorite band, or he going to the gym and realizing he can't stop staring at the tits of a lady who he doesn't know is her ex's sister. The sky is the limit, I guess

>>18588349
i guess you're right, but no one knows much about space warfare. Say i was a murrican trying to write about france... i could watch movies and youtube stuff, even go there for a short time, but the french would call any bullshit i missed.

Space warfare is kinda fine, you're anyways in suspension of disbelief land. Unless you're trying for super hard sci-fi, in which case i guess you need some research, but no one's gonna call your bs since no one knows a lot about it.

>>18588551
fourth miku cookie is non-euclidean
and
eh

>>18588551
This is the third time you've posted this, and the first time you did, you said that you are going to write about her, you know no one will like her, but allegedly didn't care about other people's opinions

>>18536277
>>18523603

He gripped the handle of the axe tightly, it felt heavier than usual. Sweat drenched his black hood as he struggled to breathe. This was unbecoming of a seasoned executioner, he thought, for many heads over many years had rolled after meeting with his axe without such a reaction. He had a certain amount of pride in his work after all, being the dispenser of the Queen's justice, justice he firmly believed in, and a Queen he'd lay down his life for. But pride was not what he felt, when he gazed at the man kneeled on the ground in front of him. For he knew of this man, and rightly so, for his arrest was the talk of the town. The man had been charged with the rape of the Queen's daughter, a girl sixteen years of age. But aside from that, the man had been an open detractor of the Queen, in specific, her rulings of some past few months. It was said that after the passing of her son during a peasant riot, she had given into madness, a sentiment which the man echoed in his soapbox rantings. To these rumors, the executioner of course, paid no heed. So why was his hood damp with sweat, and why has breathing for him become such a struggle? His thoughts turned to a fortnight past, the day of the rape. For he had spotted that same man, the accused, fishing on the pier in the southern harbor the moment when the vile act was said to have been committed. The executioner, being a diligent citizen, reported this to the captain of the guard upon hearing of the man's arrest, but was met with a blade to his throat. "The Queen reported the degenerate herself, after bearing witness to him fleeing her daughter's bedchamber." the captain asserted. "Do you call her majesty a liar?" The executioner of course said nothing, for he looked into the captain's eyes and knew that his life was forfeit if he insisted. So he chose life, and instead backed away and off into the night, putting the entire exchange out of his mind. Until this day, the day in which the man was to die at his hand. By swinging his axe, he would be ending the life of an innocent, no justice would be served. In this moment, he found himself despising the very duty that had given him purpose and so much pride. He now imagined all the other faces of the men he'd beheaded and wondered at their guilt His musings were cut short however by the roar of the surrounding crowd, the Queen had made her appearance and promptly sat in her place of honor. No time was wasted for she thrust her right hand up, giving the signal to behead . The crowd fell silent, eagerly awaiting the axe to fall. A subtle grin crept across the Queen's face. The executioner raised the axe over his head, and swung.

I haven't written anything since highschool but I thought I'd try anyway.

>>18587164
>>18587463
>>18587756
thanks for the criticism!
I wrote this as a one-off a while ago but I think redundancy is still something I need to watch myself for. I agree that the 3rd sentence is too long.
The biblical imagery is very present, and I really appreciate >>18587756 's take on it.

As for old Sam's whisky the spiked punch idea is pretty much exactly what I had in mind, though a little less creepy.

>>18588714
that's sad. Poor guy falsely accused of rape

>>18588736
how badly is it written tho?

>>18588798
It's pretty good desu. The part about the pier and bedchamber is unclear though

>>18588501
you're trying to find loopholes in how i defined it but the definition is just me rationalizing an instinctive feeling that the phrase is ridiculous, which is the actual point. it reads like a joke to me, like "i'm sitting on my ass, vigorously". the repetitive squeezing of something can be vigorous, but just holding it, even tightly? nope, sounds instantly wrong to me. it's just not how i've ever seen the word used.

>>18588682
>you know no one will like her, but allegedly didn't care about other people's opinions
I said that "many people" might be put off by her inclusion, mainly because of how she draws the protagonist away from the main action. Obviously, that would mean reading the actual book. I just want to see if anyone here thinks her character design is cute.

>>18588815
I guess it is a little unclear. The intention was that the Queen was lying in order to frame a detractor of hers of a crime so she could execute him. I just wanted to explore the concept of an executioner faced with executing someone he knew was innocent.

>>18588714
Some sentences could be tighter, like the first one:
He gripped the handle of the axe tightly, it felt heavier than usual

The handle of the axe felt heavier than usual.

There are some ideas that don't work together with the writing, as 2nd line tells that the hood was drenched with sweat and he wasn't able to breath properly (sort of describing what type of day it was, or that he's still a novice), and then you inquiry in why was he sweaty and heavily breathing? because of [insert explanation of knowing that the guy's innocent] while they work as showing the struggle of the man, the context that encapsulated "a hot, maybe tedious day of work" is lost.

There's also a major problem with your story: the Queen would've never made public that her daughter was raped. The holiness and regalness will be lost, therefore this story couldn't come to happen. Since the premise is impossible, I don't get passionate about the text itself.

All in all though, I think the ideas were taut - if a bit long (maybe because of that old English style).

best Hunter s thompson books? downloading the hells angels one right now

>>18588420
>he held his briefcase with vigour
It works, but only if someone is trying to rip it out his hands and he's really going at it having a wrestling match with said person.

>>18588841
thanks for reading it and giving your thoughts. good point about how the queen wouldn't have made the rape public, i didn't consider that angle.

>>18588840
The lying crazy queen part is very clear, just the middle part is disjointed, a few edits should fix it up. Otherwise I very much like the writing style, it's very good, would've never guessed you haven't written since high school

>>18588894
yo', would you give mine a read? all criticism would be much appreciated (It somewhat seems as if no one want's to tell me things about it)

>>18587528
>>18587536

>>18588816
That would be probably a good joke.
But eh, fair enough.

>>18588941
im the wrong person to ask when it comes to critiques, i have next to no writing experience of my own. but i found the technobabble could be condensed a little

>>18588420

>I don't think this word can mean other things beside your extremely specific definition of it
>WELL GEE I GUESS IT CAN MEAN LITERALLY ANYTHING THEN
bruh

Of course, using vigor in this context doesn't work, because "holding on for dear life" already carries the same meaning.

>>18589183
Of course that "don't" shouldn't be there. My bad

>>18588824
Stick to posting actual writing here.

>>18588714
>comma splice in first sentence
Stopped reading there.

>>18587528
Sorry, but the present tense makes this read as cheap, self-published fanfiction on Wattpad. Doesn't help that the rest of the prose is flat stage directions.

>>18589600
Stick to posting actual feet here.

Damn. I wanted to cum right away, this instant. I couldn't dislodge my eyes from the massive and perky tits she hid behind her sports bra. Crop-top, was it? I didn't care, it was a bra to me. She could've even been wearing a pull-over and I would've still sucked on her constrained tits through the tissue like a frustrated newborn baby ruefully milking his mother and suddenly finding himself unable to taste a single drop. She was so luscious I had hallucinations, that day. Her clean bosom was exposed and it made crazy thoughts swirl in my head, I couldn't even begin to describe how much I desired her. Her hips were large they looked like they would rip off her yoga pants on their own at any time, it's like they were begging to be opened and gripped while I pounded and her sweat-drenched pussy. My eyes were wide open and dehydrated at this point, the acidic sweat dripping down my brows rendered my vision blurry and I could've sworn that her tits seemed to smile at me. I couldn't hold no more and rushed to the bathroom to relieve myself. Even then, as I took my dick in a death grip, I had a headache just thinking about her slutty body. What a whore.
I went home and dreamed of shagging her in an alley for a pound.
What a bitch.

>>18590025
Thighs*
Honestly, I didn't re-read myself, it's basically coomer rant about a girl I couldn't stop watching at the gym and ended up fucking, I'm so fucking hard right now I'm gripping what a fucking slut her pussy was dripping so hard

>>18590109
>I didn't re-read myself
Thanks for letting me know not to read it.

>>18590123
Don't then. it's passable, imo.

>>18589600
>discussing LotR
>post picture of Frodo
>No! Stick to posting actual writing here.

She is a character in a book that I've written, and thus on-topic for Writing General.

>>18590475
We can read LotR. We can't read your writing until you post it. Ergo, we can't discuss anything.

In isekai light novels, does the protagonist typically marry all of the girls (legality of polygamy problems??) or does he keep all of them as girlfriends? Or does he wife one and have mistresses on the side

>>18590509
Here's an idea bucko, use that brainpower to think about actually good novels instead.

>>18590514
Come on, let's use our collective brainpower to figure out what he does with his harem. Obviously keeping them all as girlfriends is fun, but what happens long term? They will want some commitment and children from the main character

>>18586700
Ralph stood on the stage, hands shaking, heart pounding. Hundreds of eyes watching him. His first time at ‘toast masters’ to face his social anxiety and overcome it, and it was his turn to give an impromptu speech.

“I…I-uh, I’m here to overcome my social anxiety. I’m 29 years old and I just want to learn how to talk. Please be patient for I am but an infant. Coming here today wasn’t exactly my idea of fun believe me. During my drive, my palms were sweating, and I was having racing thoughts like ‘What sort of people would be here? Will they be nice? Etc etc.
All my life I’ve had anxiety in group situations. Although I recognise it as an issue, I know that others have it far worse than me, and yet they’ve overcome this issue. There’s no excuse for me to not overcome it too. But now, ladies and gentleman, that’s enough from me – I don’t want to bore you here today, so I will stop talking for both my sake and yours. Thank you for listening, and giving me your undivided attention. I didn’t die, I’m still alive. Thank you.”

>>18590606
Read a book.

>>18590606
Toastmasters is one word

> t. dad made me go to a toastmasters

>>18590630
I do read. I know I suck, but I'm trying my best anon.

500 words a day,
500 words a day,
500 words a day,
500 words a day!

>>18590656
well, yes, the character suffers from social anxiety and gets help. This is just an excerpt obviously, there's much more to the book. The book isn't about social anxiety, but the protagonist suffers from it.

>>18590657
Ignore that rude troll. You made a good start to your public speaking story

>>18590657
Trying doesn't mean shit. Read more.

>>18590685
okay, will do

>210k words into novel
>starting to lose interest in the subject matter

>>18590606
Reads like a reddit post, >>18590630 is not wrong here, and you shouldn't take offense as it is good advice. Play spot the difference with the way your favourites authors write and you'll improve.
I'm too tired to compliment you on your writing, but keep in mind that as long as you write, you'll be a better writer than 90% ot this board.

Why even bother writing when you can make the same amount of money making low content journals on Amazon?

>>18590773
elaborate please i'm interested

>>18590773
forging a narrative with only your mind and your own two hands...
it's good for the soul

>>18590784
every poo in the loo and housewife is writing low content journals. You can even download pre-made interiors, procedurally generated book covers, and even automate uploading books to Amazon, like 1000 in a week
https://youtu.be/QACJCvzNAQI

>>18590785
The poos can't do that, but I'm not sure why the housewives choose to not write normal books

>>18590748
Favourite* I knew I wrote it wrong, but couldn't see how.
>>18590773
Please elaborate.

>>18587524
Just this post was better than anything I have ever wrote

>>18587938
Story behind this? I know she’s selling some sexual/romantic content but she seems so sad :(

You ever feel like you have no creativity? Like everything that could have been new and orignal has been done before you.

>>18586700
1/1

On the slopes of these hills, there’s shrieks and gnashing.

On the slopes of these hills, my brothers hunt. Bloodied scabbards and leathered mail. On the slopes of these hills, my brothers hunt for men and domesticated beasts. Hunting in packs of four at a time, one to track ahead. On the slopes of these hills, my brothers hunt for men and domesticated beasts, for there is a great, great hunger in our stomachs. I order them to fan out and search. Hunting in packs of four at a time, one to track ahead; one to keep watch of the rear.

Cragjungen, we’re called, me and my brothers. It’s because we’re born from the mountain. Hunting in packs of four at a time, one to track ahead; another for rear-guard; one more to mind the flanks. Men and their domesticated beasts. They sit and live and age and die at the foot of our crimson mountain. Cragjungen run along the slopes of these hills, howling and jeering, as they sprint. Sipping and sipping at the valley’s water there, like they’re always parched, those domesticated animals and their men. Feet barely touch the sleet of the hill’s incline as the Cragjungen dash after a meal. Four hunters at a time, to mind the flanks, the rear and to track ahead, and a foaming one in the centre with the bloodied scabbard to be fed. We’re from these rocky inclines. Made from it; bred from it. Our skin is a powdery red, just like the hill.

Catatonic state. He is all stunned and agape. The man, crying now, had tried to protect all his domesticated beasts, when I slash at his face with the scabbard. On the slopes of these hills, I strike the man’s head with the scabbard over and over. Then over and over. Until he’s frozen. Dead, on the slopes of these hills, bleeding out. Gorge, pick at, consume and bite, sucking the marrow, all in a night’s work. Then when we’re done with his flesh, and bones too, we’ll head off for another flight. Pricking up my wings and swirling round my brothers, harking at them to fall back into formation. If you were in the perspective of a bird, flying above, you’d see we’re always the exact distance apart. All in practice, no thinking needed. Just happens. The geometry of it is beautiful and comfy.

>>18591119
2/2
Howling our song, all at once, together, with blood on our tongues and bodies covered in leather. Two brothers go rear-guard and vanguard. Where is the other? On the slopes of these hills, the final brother is hungrier than usual, cornering one of the man’s domesticated beasts. He gestures at the nearest stick he can find. It’s a blanched beech limb, thicker than a man’s arm, which he slams over, coming down from a sharp angle, the domesticated beast’s head. Moo-mooing aloud in duress, it collapses. And my brother bores his finger into the incision he’d just made, which looks like a red, little mouth. Rotating his index round as to make the chasm wider, he creates an entrance for his tongue. He takes from the hole, folding his tongue round it and pulling it out, a prettily pink morsel. Chewing, he does. Then howling and gnashing, then shrieks and roars. Every so often, Cragjungen come down to muss up their beaks.

Back at running and dashing, howling too, we’re running down the mountain which we’re proud to call home. By the valley, I can see a dozen herds being reared by a man in a farmer’s cap. Grumbling aloud, we do. Tasty morsel, I tell my brothers in a screech, who agree in jeers, and then a staccato gnashing goes up. Sound rises. Click. Click. Their teeth go in a uniform beat, when the top incisors meet the bottom. On the slopes of these hills is where the Cragjungen descend, holding scabbards and hungry bellies with no end.

>>18591115
No, actually. I pity you.

It's taken me almost 3 years but I'm finally closing in on a final draft of my first novel. I doubt I'll pursue any form of publishing but I feel good regardless.
>>18591115
I have no problem reading/writing formulaic stuff as long as it's well written/presented.

>>18591129
>>18591145
I guess I just lack creativity then

>>18591115
I have some ideas, don't know if they're creative, but the real problem is trying to turn it into the right words.

>>18590606
You mix tenses in the first sentence. It should be
“Ralph stands on the stage, hands shaking, heart pounding.”
You make an incomplete sentence next; it should be:
“Hundreds of eyes are watching him”
Again, sentence fragment:
“This is his first time at ‘toast masters’ to face his social anxiety and overcome it.”
Cut out the “and” because it’s fucking up the flow; start a new sentence instead:
“It was his turn to give an impromptu speech.”
You stop using his speech marks when discussing his racing thoughts. Why?
The premise was interesting but you need to clean it up and give a better story than “OK I’m chickening out last minute because I’m scared I’m boring you”

>>18590747
Is it salvageable?

>tfw chapter you wrote makes you bawl your eyes out

>your adoring fan is a sick 14 year old
>all they want to do is meet you, author anon
What do?

>>18586700
I am working on a short story that popped into my head during my commute. I have a first draft done of the climax. What do you gents think?

>A silhouette in the doorway. A glint of metal. Three dim, green dots slowly align in my vision. A loud sound. Blind, I am blind! No, the three dots again; another blast of lighting, another clap of thunder. Dots, three dots, again the lightning. A ringing in my ears, so familiar and yet so intense. My hand, the might of Zeus in the palm of my hand. I drop the magic scepter. The tile cracks. Ringing, my ears are ringing. The silhouette is a man, slumped in the doorway with three dime-sized fountains of wine erupting from his chest. The blood spills over his shotgun, now draped across his legs. It stains the grout and seeps into the crack beneath my discarded Beretta.

>>18591313
I really like it but the “dime-sized wine fountains” is a little overkill, no? You have a good voice and style. I’d definitely read more.

>>18591284
You have a 14 year old fan?

>>18591284
Not pose for a picture with my hand anywhere near his penis

>>18591344
Dirty-minded Buttercunt.

>>18587770
This is awesome

I have a novel series I am writing, but I am 600k words in. At this point, should I just consider it something for me to enjoy? I have already dumped it onto wattpad.

>>18591843
I don't really understand this question.

You guys all write so well. Mine feels so forced and non-descriptive in comparison.

>>18591853
should I just forget about the idea of showing it to other people?

>>18591859
Telling lies won't help you.

>>18591868
The pair left together leaving the other pair behind. Caleb looked at Kate but words would not come out of his mouth. His tongue attempted to curl and force some sounds out, but to no avail. He did not know what to say to her. Caleb’s lack of conversational abilities was not a secret for those who knew him, but it was still a mystery for the jet haired girl in a yellow dress. Caleb fiddled with the menu in his hand and flicked the corner in a nervous twitch. He averted his eyes away from hers, and magically the sound of his voice mustered eight words forming a single coherent sentence.
“W-would you like to see the menu?” stuttered Caleb as he continue to flick the edge of the laminated paper.

My writing is shit and reads like an anime.

>>18591284
Do my best to make them happy and then try to make the afterlife sound fun and exciting so they're not scared.
Tell them I'll visit them again when I die.
..secretly hope they make a full recovery.

>7.6k words writtein in 3 consectuive days
no thoughts, head empty now. at least its over until the next chapter.

>>18591115
Read more Natsuki-bro. If you are "uncreative", then just mix together two or more plots together.

>>18591115
I have an incredibly unique premise for my story that has never been thought of before. I scoured TV Tropes and Google for similar plots but found none.

>>18591099
She's a JAV actress and her pimp is making her sell her own DVDs on the streets, while in costume

>>18587588
Now is not the time for editing. That comes later.

What is the main purpose of the writer?

>>18592429
To ask stupid fucking question on 4chan: Like what you're doing.

>>18592466
Rude

>>18592466
Why are you angry? Looks like you're an incel

>>18591942
I think you are too hard on yourself. Some sentences seem a little awkward, but that can easily be fixed.
I don't know if it's because the subject matter hits really close to home for me, but i could really feel Calebs struggle. As I read, I could feel my tongue swell and stick to the roof of my mouth until I almost started choking.

How do you get any writing done in the summer heat? It feels like my brain has turned to goo. Can't focus, everything feels overwhelming. Just fucking kill me.

>>18592548
Get air conditioning.

>>18592429
to glorify his Volk

>>18592548
third worlders are so sad

>>18592550
Can't afford any

I've never written anything before but I have an idea for a book I'd like to write and have a bit of an idea of an outline in my head.

What is the best way to go about writing? Should I commit an outline to paper and then subdivide that into chapters?

>>18592705
Paper is not necessary when you have a computer, use that instead.

>>18592727
I didn't mean paper literally, I just meant get the idea out of my head and written/typed somewhere.

>>18592773
Yes, you absolutely have to do that.

>>18592784
What do I do once I get an outline written? I'm a bit worried about starting and it being shit because I haven't thought things out - although I know it will be shit anyway because its my first story, but I imagine I can mitigate some of that.

>>18592803
Of course it'll be shit. You haven't mastered this skill yet. You wouldn't expect to just become a surgeon overnight, and you can't become a writer by wishing it either, you need to work on it and that means writing ENDLESS TRASH.
So write your outline. Write down locations and especially your characters. What are their motivations? How do they go about accomplishing what they want to do? How do other characters respond?
This is your story.

>>18592815
Yes, I expect it to be trash.
Okay I'll write an outline, maybe separate it into chapters, write a brief outline of the main character and the setting.

>>18592822
>separate into chapters
Be careful with this. Do you know how long your story will be in advance? I doubt you do. How will you know how many chapters it will be? How long will each chapter be? This course of action runs the risk of you just writing filler into your book to reach arbitrary numbers.

>>18592803
>I'm a bit worried about starting and it being shit because I haven't thought things out
That's the whole point of doing outlines. Seeing the basic build, you can tell right away if your plot is broken from the start, without spending weeks, months, typing it out. You have a chance to patch the holes and improve it. Or just cut your losses and try something else.

>>18592835
>Do you know how long your story will be in advance?
No, I was thinking each chapter would be a scene or a collection of linked scenes. My plan was to write a general overview of the whole story, like a couple of paragraphs and then divide that into some logical chapters?

>Seeing the basic build, you can tell right away if your plot is broken from the start
How can I tell if it's broken? Looking for plot holes, or a story that doesnt go anywhere, etc. Or is there something more specific to look for?

>>18592879
>My plan was to write a general overview of the whole story, like a couple of paragraphs
>couple of paragraphs
So you are writing a short story a few pages in length? No chapters are necessary for such a short piece.

>>18592885
No, I'm saying the general beats of the story will be a few paragraphs and then I will see where the chapters should go. Then I'll expand on what goes in each chapter in more detail.

>>18592891
Well give it a shot, see how it goes. Enough dillydallying!

>>18592879
>Looking for plot holes

Things to look out for are mainly logical and chronological inconsistencies, yeah, which depend largely on the context.

But also, you can check if the story in general just seems engaging to you or not. If any part of the outline make you zone out and think "this is boring", then you should do something about it. Because these issues just expand when the time to actually write them comes.

so close to finishing Dracula

>>18593016
Damn, didn’t know we turn into a blog General like writes what’s on your mind.

>>18593019
rude

>>18593016
>>18582219

>>18593029
No, I don't think I will

>>18593019
>>18593029
I don't get it

>I’ve written and published around 350,000 words in the past two years. I have consistently written 55,000 words within 2 weeks, and I write 1,000 words every day at a bare minimum. By the end of this year, I’ll have written at least 200,000 more words.
what the fuck

>>18593456
Hello Stephen King/Brandon Sanderson!

>>18593456
Are you blogging about yourself and are awed by your mediocre achievement? Or are you quoting someone else, baffled that they should spread around meaningless numbers like that? Or did you make up a fictional greentext and can't understand what has come out of your brain? This is mysterious

>>18593463
i'm quoting some retard, my brain cannot comprehend these numbers

>>18593468
it's just typing lol. it's very easy to type random trash if you don't care about quality.

The green ogre shuffled his way into the mutant facility, slamming the doors open with his large hands. There was a shriek, then a murmer. None could doubt the sheer prowess of the fairy-tale creature who felled the Lord of Duloc.
“Move or perish,” he laughed, as he let out huge gaseous clouds of swamp farts.
Mutants, everyday and grotesque alike, held their noses as he powered through the corridor. There was nothing that could stop, not even an army of men with guns, nor a taskforce of mutants. Instead, the university people had to stand and watch as the awe-inspiring ogre made their place of learning his own.
“Where’s the Prof?” he enquired with not a hint, but a strong pang, of onion upon his breath. “I wish to talk about admission.”
“H-he’s,” started a shivering mutant student with glasses. “H-he’s d-down the h-hall.”
“Thanks a bunch.” The ogre picked up the student by the top of his skull, then threw him to the side like a ragdoll.
Some miasma or cloud appeared before the ogre’s eyes as he soldiered down the hall.
“What the-” began the green behemoth.
Something appeared. A form, a figure, a manlike body. It was strange, odd, queer. The skin was of the bluest hue, the colour of an ocean, or maybe blueberries. What appeared before the ogre was a mutant, though very young. It must have been a student.
“Who… are you?” asked the student. “Why do you bother my fellow cohort and disturb our premises?”
“I’m ogre this,” replied the titan, jocularly. “My name is Shrek, have ya heard of it?”
The sound of Mike Myers’ golden voice filled the student’s mind. Knowing full well of their status and filmography, the student stepped to one side, embarrassed and humbled.
“That’s more like it,” Shrek guffawed, as the sound of Joan Jett began to fill the halls. “I’ve got a bad reputation, it seems.”
By the time Shrek got down to the Professor’s office, he was surrounded by a crowd of spotty university students, all awkward and shabbily dressed. He looked around and then gave them a sonorous yell, with his hands in a menacing way around his big, green head.
“Raaaahhhhhhh,” he boomed. “RRRAAAAHHHHHH.”
They fled in droves. He giggled as he heard them scream and start up their cars; he chuckled as he heard them drive off and caterwaul all the way down the street. Then he opened the door with that big hand of his.
“Who goes there?” asked Professor X, as he looked up from officious papers. “What do you mean by this Shrek?”
“I’m here to join the X-Men,” Shrek replied as he placed his huge, green palms on the table.

>>18593555
Impressive.

The green ogre shuffled his way into the mutant facility, slamming the doors open with his large hands. There was a shriek, then a murmur. None could doubt the sheer prowess of the fairy-tale creature who felled the Lord of Duloc.
“Move or perish,” he laughed, as he let out huge gaseous clouds of swamp farts.
Mutants, everyday and grotesque alike, held their noses as he powered through the corridor. There was nothing that could stop him, not even an army of men with guns, nor a taskforce of mutants. Instead, the university people had to stand and watch as the awe-inspiring ogre made their place of learning his own.
“Where’s the Prof?” he enquired with not a hint, but a strong pang, of onion upon his breath. “I wish to talk about admission.”
“H-he’s,” started a shivering mutant student with glasses. “H-he’s d-down the h-hall.”
“Thanks a bunch.” The ogre picked up the student by the top of his skull, then threw him to the side like a ragdoll.
Some miasma or cloud appeared before the ogre’s eyes as he soldiered down the hall.
“What the-” began the green behemoth.
Something appeared. A form, a figure, a manlike body. It was strange, odd, queer. The skin was of the bluest hue, the colour of an ocean, or maybe blueberries. What appeared before the ogre was a mutant, though very young. It must have been a student.
“Who… are you?” asked the student. “Why do you bother my fellow cohort and disturb our premises?”
“I’m ogre this,” replied the titan, jocularly. “My name is Shrek, have ya heard of it?”
The sound of Mike Myers’ golden voice filled the student’s mind. Knowing full well of their status and filmography, the student stepped to one side, embarrassed and humbled.
“That’s more like it,” Shrek guffawed, as the sound of Joan Jett began to fill the halls. “I’ve got a bad reputation, it seems.”
By the time Shrek got down to the Professor’s office, he was surrounded by a crowd of spotty university students, all awkward and shabbily dressed. He looked around and then gave them a sonorous yell, with his hands in a menacing way around his big, green head.
“Raaaahhhhhhh,” he boomed. “RRRAAAAHHHHHH.”
They fled in droves. He giggled as he heard them scream and start up their cars; he chuckled as he heard them drive off and caterwaul all the way down the street. Then he opened the door with that big hand of his.
“Who goes there?” asked Professor X, as he looked up from officious papers. “What do you mean by this Shrek?”
“I’m here to join the X-Men,” Shrek replied as he placed his huge, green palms on the table.

>>18593568
Soz I deleted because of typos. Here we go.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

I am afraid of writing badly I just cannot write anything. Every word must be perfect, every sentence must be beautiful. But I am too retarded to achieve that. Help.

>>18593677
Read more. It’s not that hard to see the way forward if you are honest with yourself.

>>18593468
Well, yeah, if you write 55k words in two weeks "consistently", but can't get more than 200k done per year, the numbers don't add up. And that's not very impressive for someone who presumably writes full time.

>>18590603
How about not having a harem!

>>18590773
Are these like research articles? I did that for a bit very fun time.

>>18593677
Just write it, you need the practice. It's not a step you can skip.

>>18591942
the other anon is coddling you, this is pretty bad and I suspect you're aware of most of its faults
but that's fine. you won't be shit for long if you're regularly writing
pitter patter

>>18592270
Interesting. Wanna give us a clue or too scared of ripoffs? I would be, so i completely understand if you don’t wanna give it away.

>>18591115
I have ideas for like 5 new works a day. it's getting so hard I need three notepads to write them down, half of the stories are pretty good, some have great premises

>>18586700
>Post your writing for critique.
no

>>18594196
You’re not going to be an author. You’re not going to be a writer. Not with that attitude.

>>18594215
why would anybody post anything here? lmao

>>18594003
But do you read very much? For all we know, you’re writing story ideas inspired by anime and video games and green texts.

>>18594220
For critique, numb nuts. You don’t have to post your precious novel manuscript or published work. It’s for getting feedback on your general writing and approach from anonymous, often unabashedly honest, people.
>t. Published Traditionally

>>18593951
I honeslty have no idea what's wrong. It just doesn't sound right. I'm ready to just delete it.

>>18594228
For critique on 4chan? Nigga I literally posted a few classic nobel works here and was told it's shit and I need to rewrite.

>>18594255
Literally tell me the post numbers then instead of claiming it. Nobel prizes aren’t even the sign of “quality” either because winners are chosen for socio-political reasons, if not also being popular within circles of intelligentsia for various reasons (usually fashionability).

>>18594255
That's the point anon

I wake up with sunlight on my eyes. Squinting I curl up and try to cover myself, but I’m on top of all the sheets. Draping my arm over my eyes and thinking, “Please let me sink back to sleep.” The left side of my head is throbbing and last night is trying to crawl back up my throat. My gut eddies so I go limp and leave it be; you don’t bug the funambulist whilst riding their shoulders. In this repose my tongue gropes the plaque on my teeth. I also taste my rotten bad breath and my throat feels acidic and dry. I won’t be getting back to sleep. My parched tongue goes fondling for something wet. But the mouth had gone to bone. I just might lick my eyes, take them out one at a time and suck them like ice. Or I could think of something sad and catch the tears. I carefully kick off my shoes. A bad nose bleed would work. I could bite my lip or chew my tongue. Seems we’re all just big bags of drink; I have ten straws in reach, ready to be pricked. Despite my stomach’s tumult, this cannibalistic thirst drives me up. I leak out of bed and off to the shower. Undressing on the way and leaving a trail of last night’s clothes. Inside out jeans by my bed’s foot, my jacket thrown on the couch, the shirt in the hall and my socks at the bathroom door. My flat is small so the trail is short. In the bathroom I trip with my underwear at my ankles. Luckily, I fall in reach of the toilet before throwing up. We finish our talk and I feel better. I go to rinse my mouth in the sink, but I can’t help drinking – my Adam’s apple bobbing and pumping – the leftovers too. Regardless, the water is bliss. Standing up straight I regard my reflection. My left ear is scabbed, so is the head probably. But I can only see the ragged scab on my ear, the rest is hidden by my hair. I lean closer to the mirror. My breathing fogs it up. My eyes are bloodshot all over, as if my blinks have roiled up a red silt. Closing them I rest my forehead on the mirror. My chin drips.

The remote hill was dark under a starless sky. Forty years ago today, the professor had came here, but he hadn't aged a day. He attributed some eerie significance to this hill, but I didn't understand it. Was it that there were no stars here despite a blossoming sky not even a mile in another direction? Was it that he stopped aging when he came here last time? Only he knew, to be sure.

"I'm here to give you a gift, my young student," he said, "but only if you're prepared to accept the responsibility."

The way he phrased it made me uncomfortable. I didn't have much of a choice though, seeing as for the last twenty or so miles we'd been walking. At this point, I was prepared for whatever came next.

"I'm ready," I responded.

A second later he produced a small syringe and a scalpel.

"Hold out your arm," he asked, "you won't feel a thing."

I held out my arm, and he injected whatever was in the syringe into me. I didn't pass out, but my body was completely numb, as if everything I was experiencing was a dream. Nothing could move and my heartbeat nearly stopped.

The professor held me down and turned me over. I think he made an incision in my neck, immediately below my head, from the scar I found later. He put something hard and plastic in there, but I do not know what.

I came to my senses three or so days later, around midnight. The stars were out again.

>>18594415
More than half the sentences are fragments. I get your'e trying to make him sound insane, but I still think it could be written better. And there's too much telling and now showing.

Thoughts about this fragment?

"I hate niggers," said Mike. "I really do hate them. Niggers destroy our civilization. This is the epitome, the absolute peak of niggers. Niggerdom of niggers. Niggdom."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me tell you why niggers should be murdered. You see, I believe in getting rid of niggers. I think they ought to be wiped out. I hate them. They ruined our civilization, let's face it. Niggers are the downfall of civilization. They have to go. Nobody should have niggers. They're a menace. They destroyed all those Jap women, all those pieces of garbage they're breeding over there, and they're breeding over here, too, those bastard niggers."

"Mike, maybe I should get you a newspaper," Davenport said. "You can read them to pass the time."

"All niggers should be killed. Nobody should have niggers. All niggers. Pure niggerdom. Niggers are the scourge of our civilization."

"Hey, Mike, don't get yourself all worked up."

"There's nobody worse than a nigger. They're the worst. No good. They're a menace."

"Mike, take it easy."

"You can't defend niggers. They're a menace. Niggers are a menace. Niggers are a menace. Niggers are a menace. They're a menace. They're a menace. They're a menace. That's the thing."

>>18591775
Thanks

>>18594613
Too much repetition at the end. but overall it's actually a pretty good dialogue

>>18594523
> The way he phrased it made me uncomfortable.
Probably should write why the student is uncomfortable. What about the phrasing made him uncomfortable?

>I didn't have much of a choice though, seeing as for the last twenty or so miles we'd been walking.
Why doesn't the student have much of a choice? Just because they've been walking for 20 miles doesn't mean they don't have a choice.

>He put something hard and plastic in there, but I do not know what.
How do they know its plastic? The student is not completely sure if an incision was made in his neck. But at the same time they know there is plastic in that incision.

Surely they had fucked on the beach, something she had told me always she had wanted. The tide rising and falling with the body against slanted evening sun. The carefreeness of exhibition; with arms wide overhead as the body gyrates below. Look at me, it says. But there would be also a deep privacy. The having of her own slice of the world of which she is most intimately, in that moment, a part, and from which she is also so tucked and hidden away. How many nights had they done this? How many private sights did she see when reaching orgasm? How strong and sweatied his arms were around her as they laid along the tidewaters, the ocean itself as blanket. I imagined the setting and rising sun against shining horizons, the pacific sands of the California panhandle, the red plateaus of Arizona, the deep forest coastal green of cliffside foliage. All of these sights I knew she had seen but could never bear to tell.
At a certain point, I realized, two people along separate paths could no longer share their treasured experiences to one another. And, in fact, the more treasured the memory the more its communication would destroy the other.
I felt like killing myself. Instead, I went to bed.

>>18590747
That's why most novels are about 30-50k only.

>>18594885
30k isn't even a novel and 50k is a pretty short novel. Most are 60-100k.

>Start off great
>Receive praise for my first chapter
>Slowly forget how to write as I continue to the second and third
>By the fourth chapter I'm stuck in a retard writing pattern and look like a completely different writer by the 5th
What the fuck is wrong with me

>>18595040
Lol same
I have no idea why.

>>18593456
>>18593468
I've written 122k words on my fiction from April to September 2020, and 184k since then to just yesterday. It's not too far-fetched I think, but that guy is probably a bit lazy.

Unironic inquiry here.

Two weeks ago I was listening to one of the podcast of one of the creators of Night Vale. He mentioned that he enjoyed writing in preset tense and gave sensible arguments about been more immediate/cinematic and what not. So I gave it a try and the end result was the first chapter of a story I had been having problems putting on paper:

>>18587528
>>18587536

One of the only people that gave his opinion about it said:

>Sorry, but the present tense makes this read as cheap, self-published fanfiction on Wattpad. Doesn't help that the rest of the prose is flat stage directions.

While I agree about the stage directions to a degree, I didn't know that writing in present tense was so vexed. I read this article after reading that:

https://www.theguardian.com/global/2010/sep/18/philip-pullman-author-present-tense

(tl;dr - present tense is like screaming all the time with no contrast / the writer has the responsibility to show me the best angle in a story and present is not the best all the time / there's exceptions of present tense in lit though)

So, I guess my question is if you think that present tense is a fad? if so, could you elaborate on why it seems to you that it lacks style or give a corny impression. If not, could you elaborate on why?

(tl;dr - Do you like present tense in lit? why?)

>>18595096
>So, I guess my question is if you think that present tense is a fad? if so, could you elaborate on why it seems to you that it lacks style or give a corny impression. If not, could you elaborate on why?
I actually, very rare, if at all, ever see it at all ever, so no. The only fiction that comes to mind is the Antimemetics Division Hub series on SCP Foundation, and I thought it was pretty well done.

>(tl;dr - Do you like present tense in lit? why?)
I like to write in it since it feels more natural to me than past-tense. I will say that as a present-tense writer reading amateur past-tense works (sometimes often than not anon's) it can be jarring at times.

>>18595096
it's just a tense lmao
why do people get so spastic about it. if it suits a work its good, if it doesn't it's bad
anyone who seethes at present tense is just a pseud who is angry at the waxing and waning of cultural preferences and 'being left behind' by these movements
it's not a big deal

>>18594613
>NIGGER. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE NIGGERS SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR NIGGERS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. NIGGER. NIGGER.

>Open wide, ya writing poofta. We’re not here to fuck spiders.

I just started reading The Darkness That Comes Before and I'm only one chapter in and holy shit you faggots were right this might already be the best written shit I've ever read in my life. It's made me completely re-evaluate what I can do with my own in progress novel, and I can already see a bunch of areas where I could improve.

Write a piece of erotica as compelling as this. Protip: you can't.

>>18595363

>>18595378
>shilling your own shill thread of some shitty erotica you wrote on /tv/
fuck off.

>>18595412
Not even mine. You are all mediocre.

>>18595412
if he had the self awareness to realize what he's doing was embarrassing then he wouldn't have done it
you're not gonna wake him up to being retarded. just ignore him

>>18595349
>reading The Darkness That Comes Before
>best written shit I've ever read in my life
>google it
>it's some fantasy trash

>>18595528
People swear by it for being philosophical grimdark fantasy. Don’t need to knock it til you try it.

>>18595528
Imagine becoming a fucking adult who browses a board about LITERATURE and still not knowing the fucking age-old saying "don't just a book by it's cover".
I'm so happy I'm not you.

>>18595349
Okay, what is it about and why is it praised? I don't read fantasy. I can read it but tell me something first.

>>18595564
fantasy is so overrated and is probably the least lit genre. Only LOTR is any good and it's still a children's book

>>18595528
>he forgot that he's in the one of the few threads on /lit/ that actually reads
hows the dark academia lifestyle? still carrying around that plato book?

>>18595586
>>18595577
>>18595540
Genre fiction will never be respected and for good reason. Childish tripe.

>>18595584
>fantasy is so overrated and is probably the least lit genre
Why?

>>18595564
>"don't just a book by it's cover".
But my dear brainlet, I'm not judging the book by the cover, but by the genre and synopsis.

>>18595586
I read a lot of fantasy drivel as a teenager, but the writing in all of them was nothing but serviceable at best. I mean, I love LotR, but I wouldn't call that especially well written either. The genre's selling points are elsewhere.

>>18595623
You mean the shit posted on the cover, my dear brainlet?

>>18595378
This will get shit on but I just read it all the way through and it's genuinely better than anything I've ever read posted here. Feels a bit bad man, maybe this is a crab bucket after all. Might skip the generals for a while.

>>18595652
This is sad to look at, anon.

>>18595685
Why, because you have been completely and utterly made to look like a retard?

>>18595349
If that is 'the best written shit I've ever read' you will never amount to anything as a writer

can i write about a cult conspiracy in a small rural town or will i get sued by konami for ripping off silent hill?

>>18595619
Nobody cares.

>>18595621
It's one of the most popular genres, at least in terms of the most vocal fans online. There's even an ongoing general partly dedicated to fantasy on this board. I also admit, Terry Pratchett is one of my favorite authors. But it's not "high literature" to me. Or if it does have literary worth, ie, something that causes long lasting emotional resonance, it's buried under 50 feet of LOTR-knock off

>>18595747
“Emotional” evocation isn’t a mark of “high literature” or “literariness,” you insufferable idiot.

>>18595784
I'm sure all that world building and stories that are essentially the logbooks of D&D sessions are going to pass the test of time, people are surely going to want to read that crap in 100 years

>>18595803
but lotr has stood the test of time

>>18595824
In spite of the fact it's fantasy, not because of. LOTR, like all great writing, says something about the human condition. But it was rightfully snubbed by the Nobel committee because it's just not on the level of Anna Karenina, or Madame Bovary, or Middlemarch, or Swann's Way, or The Brothers Karamazov, etc, etc.

>>18595803
I don’t even read or write fantasy. But what constitutes literature is purely and obviously beyond you. You’d not be able to analyse a line of Spenser. Literature could fall on you from Olympos, and you’d merely talk about the feeling of it.

>>18595859
>lists all books that never won a Nobel
Jesus fucking Pseud.

>>18595824
yeah that's why I said lotr is the only one that's any good, and with all its merits, it is objectively a story for children.

>>18595871
This lmao.

>>18595866
Maybe. Maybe I am missing out on something that is written real purdy but has no long term resonance, no insight on the human condition. But I can tell you that if you don't capture people's hearts, no one's going to read your books after a hundred or thousand years or whatever.

whats wrong with genre fiction?

>>18595871
>Snubbed by committee because it's not as good as X, which themselves weren't even awarded a Nobel

Learn to read, fantasy is for manchildren
and will never be taken seriously by grown-ups

>it's an inarticulate pseud episode
imagine being unable to delineate the intrinsic qualities of any given piece of writing and the expectations a reader places upon it because of genre precedent lmao
reading isn't a substitute for a personality honey

>>18595925
Now you’re trolling because I know no one would cope this hard… adieu, goodbye, faggot. Back to my actual writing that is important and recognised.

So characters are the most important component of a written work right?

>>18595935
lmao

Enjoy your elves/goblins/knights/whatever the fuck else. What a joke

>>18595943
assuming it's a written work where characters are the most important component yes
otherwise no

>>18595948
No it’s a PhD in a topic you obviously know nothing about. Go get your pseud points somewhere else, maybe /tv/ is more your speed.

>>18595981
Pseud. I bet your PhD is self funded.

>>18595980
then what is? am i asking a stupid question?

>>18595993
yes. it depends on how and why it's written

>>18595990
I don’t live in Britain or any other hellhole that does that.

>>18595981
Not him, and I don't fully understand the point you're trying to make, but if you're really trying to argue that genre fiction is as serious, meaningful, or - fuck it - valuable as literary fiction, I strongly urge you to question whether a PhD in the subject is a wise step. At least it's LangLit rather than straight Lit, you'll have a bit of an easier time, but still.

>>18596010
Do you not know how to follow a conversation? I said he mentioned books that didn’t win Nobel prizes as examples and that emotional evocation has nothing to do with literariness. He’d know this if he took English Literature capstone courses at a good university. I even explicitly said I don’t read or write genre fiction, idiot. You even speak broken English yourself.

>>18596026
Damn, you mad. BTW a profound emotional response is definitely a quality of literary fiction. Sounds like you don't really know what you're talking about.

>>18587205
please post some more of your files/folders. Really curious to see.

is frankenstein literary or genre fiction
by definition it's genre fiction
then is frankenstein not literature?

i just want to write a good story that has good characters that will touch people's hearts man

>>18596044
ok good luck

>>18596030
Try to wrap your head around this and then come back to me when you’ve understood why “muh fee fees” don’t indicate literariness.
https://www.britannica.com/art/Formalism-literary-criticism

>>18596041
Frankenstein is literary fiction

>>18596041
Genre doesn’t cancel out literariness. Genres are in fact literary in nature. Take Southern Gothic as an example of genre fiction that won a Nobel (Faulkner).

>>18596049
What if I'm not a formalist you silly cunt? You are the definition of a pseud and I can already tell you lack the capacity for original thought necessary to be a great academic. You will fail to secure a university post and will end up toiling in a high school, baffled at the poor critical reception to your half-assed novel attempt, and keeping track of latest developments in literary criticism pioneered by scholars more intelligent and creative than you, until you die and are quickly forgotten.

>>18596073
>What if I'm not a formalist you silly cunt?
You literally have no idea. Where does your magical “emotions” come into literary criticism? Name one critic other than memes that even put weight into it.
>Baseless conjecture and ad hominem
Did you get past undergraduate 101 courses, buddy?

>>18596058
but that guy says genre fiction is not literature
therefore frankenstein is not literature, it's a children's story

>>18596089
Nah I'm just trolling I like to mess with people. I actually don't think an emotional response is a marker of literary fiction, that was some other guy. I just like wasting people's time. Good luck with the PhD unironically. What are your plans for when you finish?

>>18596103
He’s also a massive idiot and likely only got into literature because he clicked on this board once upon a time. Don’t take him seriously.

How do I write literary fiction as opposed to genre fiction?

>>18596113
Human condition in a realistic environment.

>>18596117
Thanks for the simple and concise answer.

>>18596113
go to tvtropes and remove anything you see from your story
ignore that literary fiction is also full of tropes, I can only identify patterns as something to be culturally opposed to. it's how I define my identity

>>18596113
It’s a mixed, confused, and problematic term depending on the context. If you want to know what makes it truly literary: don’t be artificial and copy what is trendy. Go for what speaks for you. McCarthy is seen as a literary icon despite writing genre because of his PASSION for Faulkner.

>>18596108
Got me. I think you’re good at picking up on tone, so you threw me off. I thought I smelled trolling from a mile away but you took me off the scent. Thank you for the kind words. I come back here because there’s always fun people like you. I hope things go well with you.

how do I write k-pop based fanfics? I'm having a hard time getting mine off the ground

>>18596230
Read books and you'll know how.

>think i'm doing great
>compare your text to random excerpts from Siddhartha and other great novels
>think you're shit and you'll never gonna make it
Every time.

>look at the top book sellers
>tons of children books
>tons of personal finance books
>tons of political commentary books
>top fiction is Where the Crawdad Sings
>Super sob story trying to make the MC as poor, downtrodden, and completely misplaced
>Modern times
I don't think I'm going to make it writing fiction

>>18596415
If you're doing it for money, probably not.
But if you're writing for self-satisfaction and growth, then perhaps you will.

>>18595040
Youre trying too hard

>>18596415
Maybe you can try writing poetry that requires deep analysis like muh Edmund Spenser

>>18596113
"Literary fiction" has become it's own genre. Pretend like you're an upper-middle-class white woman and then pretend like "oppression" and "frustration" are the same thing. Now imagine no one has ever expected much effort from you, and now you want to be a writer, but for whatever reason it's not working out. So now you're frustrated, which you believe is oppression, and just sort of filter a normal week in a man's life through that lens. So the opening scene would like somewhat like this:
>Forty hours. That's what they want from you. That's what they believe they deserve. Forty hours of boredom, forty hours of small talk, forty hours of a world that throws serious problems in your face and refuses to take you seriously when you try to solve them. Late for work? Sorry sister, maybe you shouldn't have worn them heels. No heels today? Looking frumpy, sister.
>And of course, here comes another 'sorry, sister.' I can feel the weight of the letter's emptiness when I retrieve it from my mailbox after work. 'It was a pleasure to read your work, but I'm afraid...' I chuckle to myself. Afraid of what? Afraid of truth? Afraid of shattering your little world of safety and comfort with a viewpoint different than your own? You want to talk to me about fear? Try looking into a stranger's eyes when you get on the bus, and seeing his rapacious glee when he realizes you'll be standing in front of him for the entire ride. Try going out to dinner with a coworker and wondering if he's going to take 'no' for an answer when you accept his invitation back home to watch a movie. Try to keep your keys clenched in your fist as you walk past the homeless man outside your apartment's lobby. For once in your life, try being nothing more than a pleasure for others to read.

I'm part way through writing a script for a miniseries about Richard Nixon which will basically be an appraisal of his whole life from birth up until but not including Watergate.

Primarily I want to explore his character and descent into paranoia, dispell incorrect pre-conceptions people have about him from both sides of the aisle, and explore the idea of "self-made" men.

I've begun distilling several biographies into key moments in his life to transfer into scenes and I'm going to use a framing story of him visiting his childhood home with his aide as he prepares for his wife's funeral.

Does that sound like a fucking shit idea?

>>18596789
How long is the mini series? I've watched the opera Nixon in China and it was crap, but I think the composer was a Jew

>Night came too early. Darkness appeared from nowhere, covered the surroundings with a black cloak, painted the contours with darkness, and squeezed itself between the trees with ebony ink. Like a mad painter, it erased the picture created by the day, coloring it in one, only one dark, uniform impenetrable color. Night. And silence. As if the whole village had suddenly died out. The houses plunged into darkness at the gates of the forest, covered by the cloak of night, seemed to be deserted. No light was burning in any window, not even the smallest candle illuminated the darkness. And no sound interrupted it. It seemed as if the whole village suddenly held its breath, or perhaps even lost it completely. So deep was the silence. There was no conversation, not even a trembling heartbeat. The whole village was silent. The whole village... In one of the houses on the outskirts of the village, someone slightly opened the door

OK bro I understand, it was fucking dark and quiet. Why write like this? I don't get it. Am I retarded or is the author retarded?

>>18596789
depends but I'd read it if it were well written

>>18596819
It so you know it verrrrrrry dark and quiet

Did any of you guys ever do any superhero worldbuilding? Can you tell me about your world and what went into it? I am genuinely interested.

>>18596810
I say a miniseries really I just mean a 1 season series. I'm only one episode in at the moment and that deals with the framing story and his life growing up. His relationship with his parents and his brothers dying of tuberculosis.

The second will be about his near adulthood, High school, college, law school, meeting his wife.

An episode on his failed business ventures and then him being in the Navy and his selection as congress candidate.

Running for Congress, first interactions with the press, Congress work and the HUAC/Hiss.

On the senate race and vice presendential ambitions

Vice president with Ike.

1960 campaign

Wilderness years

Presidency.

There's probably a lot I could distill and cut but I'm trying to make it fairly historically accurate.

>>18596936
From what I've seen from this thread it's science fiction being written.

>>18596415
Write for people like yourself. Write for the 100,000 other losers who want what you're writing. If even 10,000 of them buy your book, that's enough to survive on until you write your next one.

>>18597090
>10,000
>more like 10

>>18597090
>implying I will buy some debut modern book
I read only old writers. If the book is still good 30 years after the author's death, it means it's genuinely good.

I'm writing about an incel choosing love between a robot and a stacy.

But I don't know if I want him to fail spectacularly or have him end up with the Stacy. Him getting with the Robot seems too predictable. I need to subvert the readers expectation somehow.

>>18597233
Oh yes, the stacy is trying to ensnare him and make him her beta bux, so don't think it's some unrealistic wish fulfillment scenario

>>18597233
Are these your only two options? Boring.
Let him try the robot and then the Stacy. Let him have autistic inner monologues on both of them. Let him experience both of them.
And then let him ignore both of them. Embrace the philosophy. He will conquer his inctinctive self and immerse himself to the end in the philosophy of celibacy, this time voluntarily, ignoring the drives and going for eternal spiritualism, self-discovery. It takes sin for him to become a saint.

>tfw can't decide if i want to write a cathartic, or depressing story

>>18597250
He's definitely going to have sex with both of them. He's deciding if it's worth fucking someoen that doesn't love him at all in the robot, or someone that "loves" him in the stacy. As far as he's concern, stacy loves him. But it sounds like you're suggesting that he reaches a higher form of enlightenment of becoming a greater man that needs neither love or to be loved?

>>18597268
BBUUUTTT if he has sex he won't be an incel anymore. So that may be off the table.

>>18597268
He will realize that he is not ruled by drive, but by his own will, that he wants something more, something genuine, he wants life, spiritualism. He does not want contentment, but pure joy. Not strumming, but music. He does not want momentary pleasure, but eternity in fulfillment of life. And to get to that, to find that place, he had to understand sin - that's why he was an incel. He's constantly searching. He was looking for it in the robot, didn't find it, in the Stacy, didn't find it. He's looking deeper. He needs sins to become a saint.
That is why I say. He will take over celibacy of his own accord. Voluntarily.

A story about finding your own purpose, about personal enlightenment. Do it. Don't be a faggot.

Let’s say I have a 4 part draft of novel that I’d like to publish as a light novel, web novel, or similar. What do I do once I’m done editing? I wouldn’t even know where to post this if I decided to publish as a free web novel.

are plot twists a bad idea?

>>18597304
normies use Wattpad and Tapas. /wg/ uses Royal Road. Or you can use all 3

>>18596415
>>18597090
Write for yourself, write what you want to read, and don't write for money. I'm a piece of shit that some 250~ readers across platforms which isn't much in the grand scheme of things but I'm content that I made it.

>>18597304
For web novels there's the choice of Royal road, Scribblehub, r/redditserials and some other ones like R/HFY, and some less than stellar options like webnovel and wattpad.

>What do I do once I’m done editing?
Whatever you want? On sites like Royalroad and Scribblehub, it's advisable and optimal to schedule chapters something like once or twice a day daily until completion or until you catch up if your draft isn't finished. After or doing that, well, I guess you can take out some ads for self-promotion. Get noticed, but this has the drawback of getting you one star reviews, but hey it's exposure.

Reddits and spacebattles forum can be a little tricky scheduling since you'll have to schedule releases manually. But whatever you do, don't be afraid of posting it in multiple platforms. Don't keep your eggs all in one basket.

If you're in the US, there's also the choice of Amazon's webserial Vellas. But you can't post it anywhere else if you go that route. I don't know much about it other than that.

What are your thoughts on picrel?

>>18597390
A who what now?

>>18596953
sounds pretty good, would have to be at least 5 episodes though

>>18597390
>Write for yourself
I disagree. You write for the readers. A book is nothing, except practice, without readers.
I'm not saying you should sell out. Or bow down to fan demands but writing only for yourself is not right way in my opinion.

Opinions on publishing my first book with Zero Books?

>>18597583
If they say yes. Do it. Anything in traditional publishing is a green light for me. Especially with your first book

How do I think of a story lads
I only get snippets of scenes and plots but can't form stories out of em

>>18597688
Think of a story you'd want to read. Then write that.

>>18586700
The first chapter/prologue of my sci-fi book is finished! If anyone would like to read it and give feedback, that’d be really awesome.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-r8cfMnM56InJR84Q-M00ndkwtElE3FvPfVJ3VWYSsY/edit

>>18597684
I thought so too, but I've heard people here claim they're basically a vanity publisher.

>>18597716
not bad but you lapse into lazy dialogue with the human character. also there's a moment of maid and butler dialogue with the two aliens regarding the dreamcatcher that could be made more dynamic or just cut. structure is good though, some nice reversals with the narrator being non-human, the human attacking her rescuers etc. decent hook, would probably keep reading.

recommend doing an "interview" with the human so you can get down her voice. right now she sounds a little robotic and fake.

>>18597812
Thank you so much for the feedback! I’ll try and fix her dialogue

>https://www.wattpad.com/story/275974458-fallight-midit
how bad is it? It is still in the first draft.

>>18598055
jesus christ you must be using the same editor as F Gardner

A new officer enters my room while I am finishing up with the photos.

"Hello, my name is Miranda and I will be under your command. I hope we can do the best to our ability to keep the staff and kids safe" Miranda says formally while acting like someone who goes by the book and the book alone. Her light brown hair doesn't move, it is like a fake prop and her eyes are as glassy as her eye wear, while she is of an average build and looks fit. Her uniform is worn and faded, while her hat looks new, she has small smoochy lips that look like she can not even fit a spoon in her mouth.

"My name is Lothar, I am the new security chief as you would already know" Miranda looks at me and nods while adjusting her glasses.

"The ultimate goal of this project is to help the higher-ups of this agency. While building a private army of brainwashed super soldiers"

"..." what she said just now. How does she know this and why is she telling me this? For what purpose does she have, to inform me of something so prematurely? When was I actually supposed to learn of the true purpose of this place?

"Why are you telling me this? It seems to be a big secret, so why are you telling me; the new guy?" she seems to realize what she did, and opens her mouth

"I don't want these children dying in an unnecessary way, while killing innocents. And I want help when there is an inevitable revolt to save some children, so will you help me?" she looks at me while her body is facing the door.

"I will only help when I decide I want to. But when can I expect this breakout to occur?" I have to do my job, a job is a job. I tell myself.

"you can expect this dangerous event to come any day now. When the time comes, please do the right thing" Miranda leaves while I am thinking to myself.

>>18598432
editor?

>>18598511

Has anyone used bookbaby to actually print a softcover book yourself? Then try and sell the book at some local store for $25 or something?

>>18598669
I haven’t, but I know a older child/preteen whose parents printed some books on Bookbaby and sold it on Amazon for her. I can’t imagine she sold any books, not counting family and friends

I really want to get traditional published. How much crap do I need to put in? An Asian ftm and black mtf Gay ttransexuals fucking each other as kids then each other as adults while fighting discrimination and racism in the backdrop of the american south?

>>18598741
you hit all the spots anon, EXCEPT for not talking about native americans so I'm going to have to dock your book 10 points.
Try better next time.

>>18598741
Also, I hope you're a minority. Otherwise, there's always self-pubbing sonny. :)

>>18598741
Getting published is like getting a job in a bad economy, it's all about who you know.

Today I took my last two chapters that were way too long and turned them into three chapters instead and now everything works better.
Isn't editing fun, kids? It can do wonders for you!