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/lit/ - Literature


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4872823 No.4872823 [Reply] [Original]

I'm the greatest literary genius alive right now, but I'm having trouble writing my first novel. I have already created four drafts and you'd kill yourself if you knew how much better they were than the stuff you write. However, I am unsatisfied.
The characters don't have enough depth. One of them has to kill himself for the sake of the plot, but he lacks a good reason to do so. He's depressed and shit, but that's not enough. Tell me, /lit/, what would drive you to kill yourself? Other than reading one of these fine drafts of mine.

>> No.4872833

>>4872823
His goldfish could die.

>> No.4872832

>>4872823
Knowing there's people like you out there.

>> No.4872836

The only reason I'd kill myself is if the quality of my life dropped below a threshold where it was no longer sensible or worth living.

or if my cock randomly decided to fall off

>> No.4872841
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4872841

>>4872823
>I'm the greatest literary genius alive right now
>but I'm having trouble
I guess we all human huh?

>> No.4872850

>>4872823
>what would drive you to kill yourself?

I really don't want to kill myself, but I feel like I'll have to when the economy finally collapses completely and the job market dries up.

>> No.4872872

>>4872823
running out of heroin

>> No.4872876

>>4872850
>oh no muh luxuries

>> No.4872894

You've written four drafts of the goddamn thing and you still can't figure out a good reason for one of your characters to kill themselves?

>> No.4872925

>>4872823
Make this character a megalomaniac writer who thinks he's the next Joyce but finds himself struggling to characterize and, in his pursuit of perfection, stays awake for seven days solid, taking a fuck load of stimulants, until he starts hallucinating and he sees this beam of light come down from the sky one day from his window, and as he goes to inspect it, he realises that its not so much a beam but a golden staircase, at which point he thinks that god himself is allowing him to ascend to heaven early in order to give him the resolution he seeks so he opens the window and, still looking up, climbs out into thin air and promptly splatters against the hood of his Volkswagen beetle.

>> No.4872930

>>4872894
I've replaced the minor characters several times.

>> No.4872935

>>4872876
>SRO
>Second-hand clothing.
>Nong Shims
>luxuries

>> No.4872939

>>4872935
>implying you need any of these things

>> No.4872974
File: 326 KB, 1500x1500, totallyoptional.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
4872974

>>4872939
pic related: Maslow's hierarchy of frivolous luxury goods

>> No.4872980

>>4872974
>sex

And with one placement the entire thing is invalidated.

>> No.4872992
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4872992

>>4872823
i guarantee you'll look back on this novel in a few years and feel embarrassed.

>> No.4872997

>>4872823
post a sample PLS

>> No.4873117

>>4872997
It's in German and I don't like looking at it.

>> No.4873181
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4873181

>tfw the greatest literary genius alive right now can't write
Why even try.

>> No.4873214

>>4873117
tell us the plot

>> No.4873373 [DELETED] 

>>4873214
It's about a naive girl who wants to be a great artist. She decides that in order to do so, she either has to hang herself in a museum or she has to lose her mind. She goes insane intentionally by staying up several nights in a row. She does a lot of silly stuff while being psychotic, but never makes any art. She regrets her decision. Since she lives in a flat with a guy who has a helper syndrome, he checks her into a hospital. When she comes back, he has killed himself. She starts hearing his voice or something, I haven't quite decided yet.

>> No.4873617

>>4873214
It's in German and I don't like looking at it.

>> No.4873640

>>4872980
>implying you can go a week without fapping and not want to strangle yourself at the end

>> No.4873678

>>4872823
Taking myself too seriously. Thinking that anything I have done, am doing, or will ever do has any impact whatsoever. Loving myself in any way. You know, the things you're doing right now.

>> No.4873760
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4873760

>>4872823
Over a long period of time you are continually betrayed and depressed. The only thing that keeps you going are brief moments of relief, like sleep.

One day you go to sleep completely exhausted from depression.

You wake up just as exhausted.

>> No.4874084

why does he have to kill himself, kind of a cop out plot device

>> No.4874179

>>4873678
are you cooked?

>> No.4874183

>>4872823
there are other things to do than kill him, OP... there are other things worse than death that could fuck his life up

>> No.4874232

>>4872823
>greatest literary genius alive right now
>posts on /lit/
>can't even give his characters depth
gr8 b8 m8 i raet it a 8/88

>> No.4874244
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4874244

>>4872823
Best way to get replies on /lit/ is to call yourself a genius.

Well done OP, your replies were exponential.

>> No.4874426

Legitimate reasons for suicide that don't make your character look like a weak whiny little shit:

Think okonkwo (things fall apart) and john the savage (brave new world).
Both very proud characters raised as black sheep in their respective societies. Both struggling so hard to fit in, and finally when they gain some semblance of belonging. Their societies change. Realising the meaninglessness of their lifelong struggles both hang themselves.

>> No.4874466

>>4874179
I don't know man, and I don't really care. This shit don't matter anyway. I'm just doin what I do.

>> No.4874741

>>4874426
haha

have you read the last page of things fall apart? How is Okonkwo's death (or, life rather) portrayed?

>> No.4874758
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4874758

>>4872823
>mfw reading op
7/10 cause holy shit the replies

>> No.4874779

>>4874741#
In death his body is evil and only strangers may touch it.
In life he was one of the greatest men in Umuofia, so Obierika says. I don't think that discounts my point though, because to reach greatness, he had to struggle... but with the arrival of the missionaries and the changes they brought (changing the face of the status quo and social hierarchy), everything he worked for seemed futile.

>> No.4874940

>>4872823
>literary genius
>about depression and suicide
good luck, OP, god bless.

>> No.4874942

>>4872930
because you are too pussy to kill your darlings (major characters)

Post an excerpt, OP. Let's wreck it.

>> No.4874952

>>4872974
>SEX
>SURVIVAL

TOP KEK

>> No.4874955

>>4872925
i almost did this once, fucking glad that bill hicks played over in my brain just before i decided to climb over the balcony.

>> No.4874969

>>4874942
okay you little pleb prepare yourself for my majesty:

Cosima snuffles in her sleep, a tiny, grumpy sound that bows Delphine’s lips in an automatic smile. Her hands close around the hem of Delphine’s shirt, pulling her closer on the couch.

"I have to," Delphine begins in a whisper. Cosima grunts, shakes her head in one snappish motion, and presses her face more tightly against the meat of Delphine’s thigh.

This is what Cosima does, Delphine has learned. Awake, Cosima feigns constant rationality; though her choices are motivated by emotion—they must be; Delphine could never have gotten this close otherwise—she is supremely skilled at explaining her own poor judgment away. Awake, Cosima is a scientist, even in her most heartfelt moments.

Asleep, Cosima mostly just uses her as a human pillow.

It’s never-ending. Even on the most sweltering evening, she can always count on Cosima to shed her shoes and pants, to nestle in close, to tuck her head against the shelf of Delphine’s shoulder, the flex of her bicep, the flat of her stomach. Rain or shine, cheerful or tormented, Cosima seems always to be within arm’s reach.

Delphine has never felt so needed in all her life. It isn’t in the words that refuse to tear loose from Cosima’s stubborn lips, or the baleful way her eyes seek out Delphine’s gaze across a DYAD laboratory. It’s in these moments, stretching long and languorous between them. It’s in the insistent pull of Cosima’s fingers, winding around and around the wrinkles of Delphine’s shirt. It’s in the wrap of her legs, coiling methodically between Delphine’s in bed. It’s in the way her head seems always to find the softest spots Delphine has to offer, the way her cheek finds comfort even on the bony jut of Delphine’s hip, the solid arch of her spine. She nuzzles her face against Delphine’s warmth, closes her eyes, and dozes.

No good, Delphine assures her growling stomach. Cosima is entirely asleep, her breath coming in shallow, shuddering drafts. There’ll be no resolving it now; she’s in for the night.

As she coils an arm around Cosima, pulling her in a bit tighter, Delphine is all too aware of how much worse her situation could certainly be.

>> No.4874979

>>4874969

not bad but not genius

out of context, i give it a 7/10

>> No.4874982

>>4874969
Motherfucker this is just Orphan Black fanfiction

>> No.4874987

>>4874982
no, it's literary genius fanfiction

>> No.4875027

>>4874969
It's meh. Reasonably well written, but I don't feel anything.

>> No.4875101

>>4874969
OP you're a lucky man to call yourself the worlds greatest living genius alive, post your work and not have it torn apart by /lit/ for your hubris.

It's pretty good.

>> No.4875411
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4875411

>>4874969
Awful

>> No.4875459

>>4875101
It's usually not a good sign when /lit/ ignores your work altogether. It might even be worse than having it torn apart.

>> No.4875478 [DELETED] 
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4875478

>>4874969
>Cosima snuffles
>Cosima grunts
>This is what Cosima does
>Awake, Cosima feigns
>Cosima is a scientist
>Asleep, Cosima just uses her
>Cosima seems
>Cosima's stubborn lips
>Cosima's fingers
>Cosima is entirely asleep
>coils an arm around Cosima

>Delphine's lips
>Delphine' shirt
>Delphine's thigh
>Delphine has learned
>Delphine assures
>Delphine could never have
>Delphine has never felt
>Delphine's shoulder
>Delphine's gaze
>Delphine's shirt
>Delphine's warmth
>Delphine's hip

>> No.4875974

>>4874779
I mean, what did the white colonist write about him

>> No.4876017
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4876017

>/lit/ jumping on the bait this easily.

>> No.4876036

Start with the celts.

>> No.4876064

A literary genius wouldn't let his novel be dictated by plot. Fit it to the theme. If you're doing the whole postpostpostmodern affectation/reality/sincerity/irony oscillatory dichotomy thing maybe make him a sworn ironicist who kills himself immediately after enjoying a Wes Anderson film.