/lit/ - Literature

>>18670991
I'm really bad at finishing stories, but these are some things I am somewhat proud of.

The Bridge
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YoQjW3Gje0tHwnMEzy1SGFe9g9STNnVL1BM5Snj7a9M/edit?usp=sharing

The Singing
https://docs.google.com/document/d/14fc5Bn0352fPNpqtHxlBmncQfWghM6CmWJtQsbgHWsY/edit?usp=sharing

The Dance
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hKIp5k3Cz2KnYLY6cGYyV33_uu1lDkFfSWQLp6ajmZE/edit?usp=sharing

Brass (Suttree Imitation)
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1uj4UAVZ7ZIR_ofQp4_CJQ0cEtVSzOfg28cTslSSZibg/edit?usp=sharing

>>18670991
B-breakerchad, I kneel...

Novel intro, since the other thread died shortly after I posted. We're on bikes.

>>18670991
This is far better than it has any right to be. 10/10, would buy in hardcover.

>>18670991
Absolutely incredible anon. Love the visual of Breaker dancing a cigar on his fingertips. So much character development in such a short amount of time. I would absolutely read this.

>>18671085
I just read The Bridge, it's awesome. The thought of a slowly breaking bridge as a setting to a story is great and there are so many ways you can expand it even before it finally falls. Could also be a background side-story that develops the main one that happens concurrently. Gosh that's epic.

>>18672003
"The heavens bleed purple" is a great line. I also love the visual of catching your thoughts like the catching fish comparison with your thoughts and then going back to that a couple paragraphs after. Really great stuff. How far through are you with your novel?

>>18672108

Thanks, man. I'm about 75K words deep, but maybe a little over halfway through the first draft. I imagine I'll speed up the pacing as I get closer to the finish, so I'll cap out around 120K words on the first draft. Then I'll cut aggressively to get it around 80-90K on the finished draft. I appreciate the positive feedback. This is really my last crack at getting something published before I eventually head off to law school and get too caught up in careerism to write seriously.

>>18672139
It's so great you are legitimately pursuing writing, even as a hobby. The catching thoughts like fish analogy feels like something from a classic book read in schools and used as an example of figures of speech.

I remember a moment during my fifth birthday when I had the chance to introduce two friends, one from church and one from school, both of whom were named Nathan. “Nathan, Nathan. Nathan, Nathan,” I said, and we all thought that was hilarious.
Since then, I haven’t had a good friend named Nathan. I lost touch with both of them somehow, though I understand that it’s difficult to stay friends with a person for so long.
I’ve had many good friends named variations of Robert, so many that I think it might be more than a coincidence. Robert. Robert. Rob. Roberto. And these were all good friends from distinct episodes of my life, with perhaps some chronological overlap between the latter Robert and Rob and between Rob and Roberto, though none of these people ever met like Nathan and Nathan. I’ve since found that it’s distressing to encourage these sorts of crossover events, so I avoid merging friends from different spheres. One thing that’s distressing is that my behavior from one sphere to the next is fluid, and though firmly rooted in what we might call my identity, this unconscious change in personality is magnified when having to interact at once to two unrelated Roberts or Robert forms. I don’t consider myself some sort of chameleonic sociopath, but I do act in different ways with different people, and the thought of lunch with both a girlfriend and my parents gives me anxiety. Perhaps this is the reason I’ve never introduced a girl to my parents, who I can tell are beginning to think I’m gay. They’ve found no proof of my sexual preferences toward any direction, but the absence of lady talk in general is, in itself, enough for them to assume the worst. The topic of sex and its tangents has only been brought up once with my parents, when Ma found a condom in my wallet.
The consultant is not my girlfriend, but she is a girl and a friend, so when she asks to know about my week I see her here, her face above a glass of water, and at once I see Ma and Pa, whose faces in my memory are also above glasses of water as we eat food and don’t talk, and this double exposure of memory and sight makes me imagine all four of us at a single table, and instinctively I check my both my real and imaginary pulses, placing two pairs of fingers on my throats. I take a sip of water.

>>18670991
Sometimes I just get so lost in the way people look at me when I reveal to them i'm the butcher of Havnok. It's always a kick when their eyes widen when the shock sets in when they realize I wasn't fucking around. You could see the fear inside them grow just from looking into their eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul after all. It's almost better than the killing itself.

Almost.

The media calls me butcher, ripper, killer, sociopath, and sometimes even demon. But the truth of the matter is I just love carving the human body into my pieces of art. I love expressing the limitations of mortal flesh. I can make a canoe out of a person's body quite well at this point. I can also shape the body into monstrosities reminiscent from some cosmic horror story. I love my work. And I love expressing it so everyone could take a marvel at my creations.

The truth of the matter is i'm a man with an unique ability to create something more than art. Mere art could be forgotten and destroyed by those looking to reshape the past into a modern lie. No, my creations will be burned into the minds of the policemen that have to witness my atrocities when they step onto the crime scene; My creations will live on in the leaked pictures that will be immortalized on the internet. My creations will stand the tests of time and culture. Hell, with the way things are progressing, I may even be recognized as a saint or martyr instead of a demon that preys on the innocent.

Sure, some of the people I go after are innocent. I've desecrated two whole families at this point in history. I have no qualms about admitting that just as I have no qualms about going after predators and repeat offenders. It's just that the predators are sometimes the more easy prey, especially when they're too enslaved by their vices to not indulge the demon knocking at their door.

Like now as I sat in the booth discreetly watching the woman with the silver blonde hair and ice blue eyes to die for. She always hit up the same two diners in town. Always. Because they were the diners that were frequented with young teenagers studying for their classes. She was known well among the teens for being the one cool adult and they accepted her into their circles. Tonight, she was with two teens called Vanessa and Lara. From my booth, I listened to Lara trying to convince Vanessa to go check out the new store opening in Dimond. She wasn't having any luck, especially with Agnes, the silver blonde woman, coaxing Vanessa to stay with her and finish up the study.

"It's okay, Lara. You have all the time in the world to check it out but not for the exam tomorrow. That's priority number one if you want to pass your freshman year, missy," Agnes said coolly as she ever so slightly batted her eyelashes at Lara.

I had to smile at the charm because it sure as fuck worked on Vanessa.

"Agnes is right, Lara. I can't miss out on this and neither can you," Vanessa asserted.

>>18670991
I'll never let this masterpiece die out

>>18670991
god fuck, this story is so fucking good.

>>18670991
It was agreed that no one should talk to me anymore, and their defense was positively that they had more to gain being part of the in group than dialoging with a leper.

Don’t involve me in your life
I’m too happy having none
‘cause derision is a thing and I
Will not prevent a strife

I’m not good enough for fame
If in ignorance there’s bliss then I guess it’s all the same
Being hidden under a carpet
Dragged and lost under a closet
Where cats do not dare piss

When you’re programmed to feel nothing, anything can give you wood
So I say we preach for freedom and let the NGO people scheme
So much self doubt I’ve left the greatness to the experts
All the credit to some hoodrats for the talent’s never what it seems

And thus I ranted alone until the end my time at the museum. Think and you will be punished, advance and you will be tested; win or die is better than plays never written.

There was a man upon the stair
Only even' knows how he got up there
His wife would shout and she would yell
To cast a spell to bring him down
Alas it seemed he was there for good
He really could and ever would
Stay upon the stair forever

Thinking that he was oh so clever
And that he would never ever
Fall from grace and lose his shine
He spun a web upon a line
Of fishing wire and conspired
To rule the world from above

Like turtle doves and summer roses
This great man he does supposes
That altogether it would seem
That the world would pick up steam
If alas his only dream
Would find the world just like a thief
In the night and from the dark
This man he fell and broke apart
And all desires of his heart
We'd find upon his only stair

Working on a series that's about 3books/volumes so far. 315k words so far, nearing the end of vol.3 in a few chapters.

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/31062/saga-of-the-cosmic-heroes

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/41735/psychowriter-a-psycho-oneshot
Bit of a one-off short story I did, 6k words long but its competed to a point where I could expand on the world later.

>>18672524
Is royal road just a bunch of people wanting to write their own anime?

>>18672613
I don't think so.

>>18672524
How yonic

>>18672659
Do you write, butterfly? you should title it "to write a butterfly"

Up... down. Up... down.

They laid in the dark, Tim on top of her. Or, at least, on top of her belly. It was big, round, soft, and he nestled atop it, and he could feel it rise, and fall, as she breathed in, and out. Up, and down.

He could hear her heart beat, too. That slow, careful thudding. In, and out. The house was quiet, apart from that. It had rained earlier, but the rain was gone. The sky was still gray, though, in the middle of the afternoon. The lights were off. Everything was so dark, and so quiet.

They'd stripped down to their underwear, but they were under a blanket, so they were still warm. And SHE was warm. Like a radiator. Warm and soft. Up and down. Breathing, in and out.

He sighed, a breath of his own, and nuzzled deeper into her belly. Her heat, her breath, her heart. It was lulling. Soothing. He could feel his eyelids grow heavy.

Suddenly there was a hitch, and he felt her belly jerk in place. "Hmm?" he said, sitting up.

She'd sat up, too, and was blinking a bit. "Hey," she said, smiling.

"Hey," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, just... thirsty. I was going to get up and get some water," she said.

"I'll get it," he said.

"You sure?"

"No problem," he said. "Just stay put."

She yawned. "Okay," she said. "No ice, please."

"Got it," he said, crawling off the bed and standing on the carpet. He moved for the door. But he looked back, instinctively, and saw her there in the gloom of the bedroom, sitting up, her broad, wide silhouette vivid in the gray afternoon twilight. She looked like some heavy, solid thing. Like a mountain. Looking at her from here one would never have guessed how soft and warm she was.

She blinked. "Something wrong?"

He blinked. "No," he said. "Be right back," and he moved through the door into the hall.

I leaned back on the park bench and pulled on the kind've cigarette you wouldn't give to a dying man. Cheap, probably worse than smoking sandpaper, but I could afford them more than the stress of trying to quit smoking.
Sawyer was around the corner getting the two of us something to eat before it was time to head into a basement bar across the street. It just needed a corpse hanging off to the side to tie all that gaudy neon and stormdrain runoff together, then it’d look like a runner up for seediest place in the area. A pile of garbage may have very well been a stiff, I couldn’t tell.
A quick look at the watch on my wrist did tell me the man I had for backup should have returned by now, The bench shifting noticeably confirmed he was back.
Sawyer was what some people would call a big lug, muscle, or a nightmare mothers would point to so their kids would stop crying in the local market for fear of him lurking in their closest at night. What must’ve been six foot five of ragged black cloth culminating in a blood red cowl handed me a bundle of cheesecloth, keeping his eyes across the street.
“You not going to eat?”
I was already half way into a piece of meat wrapped around flatbread when that honey slow, pall-bearer drawl he had for a voice replied.
“You sure we’re not going to get jumped going in there?”
“Job offer came with a letter stating we wouldn’t.”
“And if they DO jump us for some reason?”
“Does it really matter?”
That gave him enough pause for me to finish eating and put out my cigarette. He finally answered with a shrug by the time I had my chemical mask and sealing hood on. The thing was my home away from home, made from the reinforced fibers refinery workers trusted to keep their skin from exploding and kept liveable by a respirator that didn’t get absolutely fucked by the stronger family of toxin. It was integral to how I handled myself.
The place was as scummy as I thought, walking in off the street and into the haze below. It was one of a halfhearted pianist on stage backed up by the audible feeling that those who managed to drink here felt they had something better to do, at least for now, than to just throw on a hemp necklace back at home. The terminal combination of desperation, boredom, and alcohol fumes strong enough to make it through the filter washed through this place, occasionally augmented by a scarred or criminal face peering up to look at the two of us. I even think I saw a hand going to a knife or gun only to get pulled back at the last second when they saw who was behind me. A few tweaked out thugs getting caught in the crossfire of a organophosphate cloud I could handle, but a whole crowd would mean bad news.
Our client had a curtained off booth in the back. Man was a reed dressed in a cheap suit, and a mask like us. A disc of once stainless steel, now firmly stained by all the little cracks and bits of tarnish that made for a lively setting to one bloodshot eye.
We got down to business

>>18672659
Butterfly, you'll never be as pretty as her. Even in your prime, you were less than her right shoulder, and now, everyday, you age more and more ugly.

>>18670991
Jesus Christ, there's some real effort and talent going into this. Anon I guess this is your destiny. You have to produce a novel following a positively depicted slave owner containing matter-of-fact expositions of deepest slavery, serving as a mere backdrop for his romantic and business exploits.

It will be written in undeniably exquisite prose at at a pleasant, involving pace that not even the wokest gender study graduates will be able to deny. You have to do this.

>>18670991
Anon how long did it take you to make this?
I'm astounded, I would buy a novel of this.

>>18672524
wew, that's quite the effort

>>18670991
You've got style, kid and you've got it in spades/bucks. Please do shill your novel when it is finished and remind us that this was you. I have the slightest fear that your long form work might be a bit overwrought, but there is not enough to judge and a suspicion is worthless. I would definitely buy an anon's work that had prose of this caliber if only out of principle. I hope law school goes well for you. If not, or if you get bored as a lawyer, you can take the golden parachute with some confidence. We don't see work of this quality around here often.

>>18672794
This is beautiful anon. I realise you might have posted it for memes, but I've been working on a novel set after the first world war, in which a scarred Italian airman (among other things) falls in love with a rather large opera starlet. I've been experimenting with ways to put across the positive physical intimacy between them without it sounding parodic in the mind of the reader. If you don't mind, I'll draw quite heavily on what you've written here. :)

>>18676334
No, I posted it because I actually do have an intense physical attraction to fat women. Glad you liked it. Like you say, it can sometimes be hard to really get across in prose the particular pleasures of a bigger girl. I tried my best, glad you appreciated it.

>>18675824

Can't tell if someone's samefagging this thread up with praise for OP or not, but, in any event, OP isn't the one going to law school. That's this guy:

>>18672003

>>18676825
My mistake, my praise is aimed at law anon. Breakerchan is good too, of course.

>>18675319
Thanks.

1/3

>>18677229
2/3

>>18677229
>>18677237
3/3

>>18670991
oh sweet jesus a buck breaking thread

>>18670991
bumping for more buck breaking

>>18677193
>>18677193
Sorry I didn't see this thread in the catalogue

>>18677229
This is very depressing.

>>18677471
Gracias hombre.

>>18676390
I also have an intense attraction to big girls. One of my goals is to write such relationships in a meaningful way. It's always comforting to find someone else who shares the passion. You're clearly getting somewhere with it.

>>18670991
Fanfiction is literature.
That is all.

>>18677696
>Bible
I guess it's just collection of preeminent Mormon literature?

>>18677725
I wouldn't know. Kek.
https://www.fanfiction.net/book/Bible/

>Thirteen letterstrikes on the keyboard (‘thirteen, unlucky—’ says a bent man with an eccentric white mustache as he makes his way towards the back of a train).
>Catalog.
>Scrolling (—Judy Hopps rubs her rabbitpussy against the scrollwheel of a massive computermouse, god I hate furries).
>—/tv/ has basically become /pol/’s shitposting board—
>—Shut the fuck up.
>—I don’t know why I still come here.
>—You’re lonely, probably.
>—I could quit if I want to.
>—That’s what all addicts say sweetheart.
>(Cue: image of a pale, obese she-thing with the dark beginnings of a beard forming at the doughlike folds of her mouth—a sharp contrast to the bright fading pink of her shortcropped hair; she smiles smugly, her lip-ring gleaming).
>—I will never achieve literary greatness. What am I doing here.

>>18672003
I think I remember you posting some of your work a while back. This is a piece that's based on your real life right? It's about you and a bro on a biking trip after you've gone through a serious depressive episode or something. Anyways the writing has certainly improved since then, great job so far.

>>18677678
Was your mom fat?

>>18678494
No, she was very /fit/ actually.

>>18678484

Yeah, that's me. This is a bike ride we did across Canada in summer 2019. The novel, which is just a dramatized version of the day by day events of that tour, will likely be coming out in a couple of years. It's called Transcanada. Thanks! I'll keep at it.

>>18670991
Alright anon. Which famous writer are you? I know you are probably a New York Times best seller and you don’t want people to know you read 4chan, but tell us anyways.

Groans escaped from both her ends as air pockets caught between the turds and her rectum walls released with a bassy roll of wet pops. From where the young man leaned over her could see the ring of light brown wrinkles spread open, and the dark face of the first serpent peek into creation. The body that followed was so much larger than it's nose made it seem. Her circlet clung to it as it passed, as if desperately trying to apprehend the newborn before it could escape, and a projecting sphincter interrupted the once smooth valley between the oracle's spread butt cheeks. She gasped and shuddered against the young man's legs. Though at first the procession was snailishly slow, the ropey length gathered speed until its tail finally threw itself onto the grass behind her, tangling into the rest of its coiled body. Her anus began settling back into place, as dough might, but stopped to shudder at a machine gun burst of flatulence, whose depressive pitch made it sound embarrassed to be there. Without delay, another girthy line of brown paste followed like custard from a machine. Somewhere along it's middle, she contracted her nethers, severing the soft turd in half and squeezing feces into the cleft of her bottom. What had already escaped fell limp beside it's older kin, and in a moment it was joined by the rest of itself with a moist thud. Bitter steam billowed from her leavings. The young man crinkled his nose, while she began catching her breath.
"Are you finished?" the young man said.
"Yes," she said, in her low, scratchy voice.
"Then face the tree and turn your butt towards me."
Still squatting, she rotated until she could rest her cuffed hands against the birch. The young man, kneeling now, found himself staring into the dilations of a reeking black star. He ripped off a sheet of toilet paper, bunched it between his fingers and drew it across the filthy corona, stretching her sphincter and gathering brown sludge beneath the tissue. Thoroughly used, the paper was thrown in with the rest of the refuse and another, clean piece was torn from the roll.
She looked over her shoulder at him, grinning, "have you ever wondered how it tastes?"
"Be quiet," he said, and began wiping again.
"You could just lean in and have a lick and no one would know. I certainly wouldn't tell anybody."
"I said shut up."
"Look, here," she said, "I'll make you something fresh."
She tensed up and began to groan again. He was wiping the inside of her butt cheeks when he saw her rim bunch and erupt with one small, dark turd, right next to his foreknuckles. It slid out, barely missing the young man who had kicked himself up and away from the squatting priestess and now watched as her gift slapped against the ground where he had just been kneeling.
"You're disgusting!"
She laughed and raised her swaying hindquarters at him.
"What are you waiting for imperial?" she called to him, "clean it up!"

>>18670991
Nice.

>>18681435
The vividness and word choice is top notch but insane

Yes Iam still wearing a mask FUCK YOU !

Yes Iam still wearing a mask you know why ? Because people fuck’n suck ! Because people can’t follow and do the simplest of directions ! You are sneezing all over the place, guys as a fellow man WASH YOUR DAMN HANDS AFTER TOUCHING YOUR DICK AND BALLS ! I still wear a mask because I don’t trust humanity ! I still wear a mask because my roommates are high risk, I still wear a mask because the idiots around me voted for trump and can’t stop sucking his cock as well as accept that he lost and is NO LONGER IN FUCK’N OFFICE ! I still wear a mask because you let your kids run around the whole damn store sneezing and coughing on everything and spreading germs ! I still wear a mask because I don’t trust humanity as a species ! There were wonderful INDIVIDUALS that have accomplished a lot for humanity and that have done good but people like that are one in a million ! Dont get me wrong I know Iam not the smartest man on the earth I’ll admit that till the day I die but I don’t act like iam always the smartest person in the room either ! And I follow the damn directions ! Also being close enough to fuck me in the ass ISNT 6 FUCK’N FEET ! Jesus Christ take a damn measuring tape with you if you need assistance and don’t use your dick as a means to measure distance ! Because i can guarantee you that your dick isn’t 6 feet long ! Instead of worrying about me control your damn kids ! wash your damn hands ! And wear a damn face mask CORRECTLY !