Critique Thread / Writing General

Some of your imagery could be better. For example, instead of "making the noise of a helicopter" you could replace that with "screaming like a helicopter" or "filling the room with thousands of helicopters" or something to that effect.

Your reliance on "was" is to my distaste as well; you could easily replace verb phrases like "was knocked" to "blew out".

The sentence structure also repeats itself with compound sentences over and over. It feels robotic; in fact, the whole thing feels robotic.

This reads like powerfantasy fallout fanfiction. Awful fanfiction at that. I hope it's ironic for your sake holy shit. "Get in there and no funny bussiness." Holy shit my duder...

Thanks for the critique, very helpful. I wouldn't have noticed any of that on my own.

"Alright I did take off my pants in his apartment, " I said to him. Maybe I enjoyed watching his face turn from angry to disbelief. Maybe I am doing this to hurt him. He is so attached to the idea of us being together forever that, maybe, telling him the truth might actually be of benefit to him. I didn't deserve his dog-like loyalty. And perhaps, I do like cheating on him. But instead his expression turned into that of dismay and defeat. He looked down at his feet and lowered his head. I utterly destroyed him and I felt not a single ounce of remorse.

Later that night, in an email, he sent me a collection of all the poems he wrote for me. They were utter crap and made me hate him more. He treated us like we were in love in the old world where loyalty and sweetness mattered. I'm young, I have the world to explore. I can't stay with him. A boring romantic who never gets tired of my presence and always tried his best to appease me. And the sad part of it all is that he is the best boyfriend I ever had.

>her
>load
huhuhuhuhuh you said 'load'
say cargo instead

Avoid adverbs. Gross likeness, tumor dog. what the fuck do you mean shooting them like marbles? I thought you shot marbles with a thumb. That's how it was in all the old cartoons I ever saw anyways.

Change 'resembling' to 'like'. I don't buy all this stuff about remembering actions but not names. I just don't buy it. Seems made up to me. Its so pretentious man. Granted that last criticism is a matter of taste. But nothing's going on...

Not an english person or anything, but something compelled me to write lyrics to this song. I have never done something like this before:

>youtube.com/watch?v=_IDhX8REm9Q

The sun’s behind the clouds
The air now smells of ash
If only you could hear me
If only you could see me
I’d conceive of a way to make things last

But dawn has turned to dusk
and my heart starts to run amok
When the daylight comes, at day break
I’ll cringe the second I awake
But in this very moment I can’t explain

Drawn in by your scarlet dress, your sparkling eyes
I walk up and I try to say goodbye
But you say “It’s okay, It’s fine if you stay”
You ask me if I want to dance
I do decide to take the chance
Oh how the night then passed swiftly away!

No more clouds do I see
The sky is filled with stars
We’re holding hands and yawning
Soon the sun will be dawning
How it turned out this way I can’t explain

(Piano Solo in song)

No more clouds do I see
The sky is filled with stars
We’re holding hands and yawning
Soon the Sun will be dawning
How it turned out this way I can’t explain

Any and all criticism is welcomed!

at the root of all these criticisms is that this style seems forced, trying to be higher than it really is. Try to write it as if you were telling a story to a friend. Perhaps that's awful advice that you can disregard out of hand... you don't have to take the positive suggestions, but I suggest you do take the negative ones.

>Avoid adverbs
Shit advice. Adverbs build mood

yeah cause "vaguely" really steeps me in a subtle mood...

passage about two spirits:

pastebin.com/raw/PeyYdW3S

Gonna quote some shit lines that made me cringe with some commentary

> I saw her years ago when a truck full of oranges jumped a curb and spilled some of its load onto the street by our little herd.
Spilled a load eh?
> She had stuffed her blouse full of oranges and she looked like an ancient tumorous dog. When she walked the oranges undulated in her blouse, and a heat bloomed...
Beautiful (not)
> I must keep a log of those actions which are familiar to me so that I can recognize them in patterns. The names come with the repetition.
Oh you must? Are you retarded or autistic?

> For example, I know my mother from the way she moves a pan across the stove, like she’s balancing an invisible ball in the grease. The rolls of fat beneath her arms move just so as she does this, and the socks she downed and wore, the ones with the pink dogs on them, crawl down her ankles with her movements.
Lmao good for you?

> These things are my mother - a moving pan, tremors in her arm, and socks that move on their own down ankles. There are other patterns like this, but hers is hers and that is how I know her.
You really are autistic

fragment of a story about a rich lady:

pastebin.com/raw/S7Pvqktk

It's okay.
Nothing amazing or beautiful about it

It's like watching paint dry

Night was coming. The dark blue evening sun cast its last feeble waves of the day as it made its way towards the tree covered horizon.

Basic skyscrape lit. I've written and read plenty about the skies.
This is solid however, good job. Not a fan of the feeble waves bit.

>”Spilled some of its load”
>Street children flock to play with spilt load
>Narrator fantasizes about girl playing with load
>Takes ”more than she could ever eat alone”

Easily the best writing I’ve seen all year.

>Not a fan of the feeble waves bit.
It was about lifetime ago when the sun drew its last breath

someone else can critique but pretty well written imo

I want
A gun
To turn
The joys
Of my cohorts
Into colors
Of
Colombine

Any advice for improvement?

dig it

woah

Sometimes I sit and scream at the sky.
And sometimes the sky screams back at me, and sometimes, in the voice of my father. "WHY AREN'T YOU MARRIED SON," it says. Usually when it says things like that though, I just run off and cry in my bedroom.
I can always faintly hear the sky, ever so faintly through my window, complaining about how I don't have a job yet and telling the ground how I'll never amount to anything.

If I had known I would still have to hear the voice of my father saying these things, even after his death, I would never have killed him.

They called me Fishhead back then. Not sure if it was the fat wet lips, the swimming eyes or my bad breath. And it's not like I ever asked them. Not like I really cared either. As long as the lunchlady had a fresh stack of fishsticks waiting for me at lunch I was a-ok. I remember the first time they had em on the menu. They didn't exactly call to me, that's for sure. Didn't like the smell. Didn't like the colour. But they don't give you much of a choice when you're a kid. You eat what they give you. Bringing food with was strictly forbidden - wouldn't want a kid to realize that other families can afford more than the tv-dinner his dad beat him over the head with last night.

Really like it

I've posted this thread in the previous two crit threads, and didn't get a single pertinent response, positive or negative.

theverboseauteur.wordpress.com/2016/09/28/the-guilt-of-the-magus/

>Yes
>YES

>power fantasy
I‘m not sure if I understand

The flight attendant looked around in fear and slowly backed up, but before she could Jessica grabbed her wrist, spun her around and held her neck in place by way of choke hold, “Nobody move or I’ll kill her.” Jessica said in a very improvised manner, the rest of the plane seemed to collectively shrug, “I was planning on doing that sooner or later.” one man said, “Allahu Akbar.” the man next to Ice Cylinder said, “Jessica is that you?” Elliot asked, somewhat startled at her presence.

No one knew what to say or what to do but it seemed that everyone on the plane were terrorists.

Is this better?:
He noticed the fan accelerating, but couldn’t be certain so he let it be and continued his work. The fan still accelerated steadily. He stood up and pulled on its cord several times, with no result. Puzzled by this he sat back down, waiting for it to stop. He could feel a strong breeze by now, and the fan showed no sign of stopping or slowing. The wind filled his room with a hurricane. It seared his eyes and blew his papers out of place. He quickly took up a book to stop the blades from whirling. The book blew out of his hands. His arms were thrown backwards and grew heavy. As his legs grew weak he sank to the floor, watching in despair as the blades spun faster and faster, assaulting him with the sound of a screeching squadron of helicopters. It began shaking violently more and more until with a crash finally knocked it out of the ceiling. It hung by a few cords, and slowly came to a stop.

Anger to disbelief.

excerpt from my epic poem
Kind daughters of Eirik look here!

'Tis a golden holly grown from the sky
The fairies have toiled for its beauty and health
Its gold has no value, but it has untold wealth
Carry it slowly for it's no mighty ring
Yet the man who shall bear it, he will be made king

also
>stuffed blouse full of oranges
This guy gets it and you're a fucking moron. cargo would kill the drive

William sat on the grass by his bicycle, smoking a cigarette in the pale sunlight. He was sat by a lake surrounded by a circular enclosure of trees, birds calling to one another from their branches. A soft wind brought a steady stream of leaves to the ground, carrying a few as far as the water which gently rippled the surface as they landed.
Through the blue-grey smoke of his cigarette William could see a man and a dog on the other side of the lake. He watched as the dog, always a few paces ahead, led the man down the path, tracing the scent of some other animal that had passed by moments before. They walked behind a line of trees and out of sight, and with nothing else to keep his attention William noticed the air had grown cold. He took a final drag from his cigarette and stubbed it out on a dry patch of ground, discarding the butt in the near-empty beer bottle he had been drinking from. He stood up, brushed dirt from the jacket he had sat on, taking particular care to remove any from the “Black Sabbath” patch emblazoned across the back, then pulled his bicycle to its upright position. He had been at the lake for a couple of hours and although he had planned to stay for longer the chill began to make him uncomfortable. Aside from that a goose had began to honk incessantly somewhere nearby, spoiling the quiet he had came for.

------------

I'd very much appreciate any critique. Will post my own critique for others in the next post.

>He stood up and pulled on its cord several times, with no result

There are a few grammatical issues, for example I'd remove the comma here.

>The wind filled his room with a hurricane

Did it actually fill the room like a hurricane, or is this an exaggeration? When describing things in this way avoid exaggeration.

>He quickly took up a book to stop the blades from whirling. The book blew out of his hands
“He quickly took up a book the stop the blades whirling, but this only caused the book to blow from his hands.”

A quick and janky example of something that might flow better.

>His arms were thrown backwards and grew heavy. As his legs grew weak he sank to the floor,

The “grew heavy” part followed by the “grey weak” part kind of clash. “His legs grew weak and he sank to the floor,” would also work better imo.

>assaulting him with the sound of a screeching squadron of helicopters.

This is an awkward and overblown description.

>It began shaking violently more and more until with a crash finally knocked it out of the ceiling

Re read this, I'm sure you can see what's wrong.

>"Alright I did take off my pants in his apartment, "
A comma after the “alright” - read things aloud to see how it flows. Saying this sentence without the break isn’t natural, especially as speech. Nobody would say it this way.
>And perhaps, I do like cheating on him.
This is the opposite. The comma cuts up the sentence unnecessarily.
>But instead his expression turned into that of dismay and defeat. He looked down at his feet and lowered his head
'defeat’ followed by 'feet’ reads strangely to me. Alternatives could be “he looked at the floor/he looked at the ground” etc. (this may be a personal thing, however. I’m not sure if this would bother other people).
-----
The last paragraph was good, no qualms from me.

meant for

p-pls gib feedback

>It shook more and more until it finally fell out of the ceiling, hanging by cords, and stopped spinning.

Is this a metaphor for male orgasm? Anyway, I fail to see what poetry there is in a fan spinning faster and faster until it breaks. I can see a faint feeling of resigned powerlessness, but your description is by no means relatable, nor interesting.

I wouldn't say 0/10, but please learn that there is a huge difference between observation and poetry.

>(Poem)
Thanks for pointing that out.

>all my Hims are hims
Can you please explain this to me?

>His altarpieces were clean crystal tumblers.
Love this line. I also like the third stanza: the images are really evocative, and the tone overall makes it kinda feel like a prophecy.

The fourth one though makes me believe that you should rewrite this on an old tipewriter, and then photograph it along with a few cigarettes and a glass half full of wiskey, especially lines 3 through 6 of it.

Last three lines of the poem are nice, although they have that beaten dog feel that makes me want to laugh at you more than empathize. It doesn't really seem like this is your own experience, I can see you're trying too hard.

im not gonna read the whole thing.

from the first couple paragraphs, i think you overwrite a lot. most sentences could have several words cut. like e.g. you can obviously obviously cut 'prior' in this:
>indeed, their only prior interaction occurred a few years ago
and you can cut 'from her scalp' in this (where the fuck else are 'auburn locks' gonna come from? if anything the need for a specification could mean you're implying she has copious pubic hair):
>Her unkempt auburn locks tumble forth from her scalp to conceal her fingers.
'snapping' in this:
>the crack of snapping bone
there are looooads of similar examples

idk if im too PoMo to read this genre but i cant read things like this
>A morsel of air makes an involuntary pass by the throbbing core of his throat.
without wanting it to just say
>He takes a breath.
maybe verbose descriptions are standard for the genre, idk.

the other thing is the dialogue. again, ive never read this genre in my life - i can't imagine anyone talking like this IRL.

read some hemingway or nabokov man. the best descriptions dont have many words.

>(Poem)
It's kind of a Frank O'Hara reference. There's also one in the 4th stanza. It's in there for a friend of mine.

>all my Hims are hims and I memorized none
You're supposed to capitalize Him when referencing God. Also I never memorized the hymns I was supposed to. hims Hims hymns.

>The fourth one though makes me believe that you should rewrite this on an old tipewriter, and then photograph it along with a few cigarettes and a glass half full of wiskey, especially lines 3 through 6 of it.
Take that up with O'Hara.

>Last three lines of the poem are nice, although they have that beaten dog feel that makes me want to laugh at you more than empathize.
I felt that I should tone it down to avoid sounding 2 edgy. I think the last line is what pushes it over the edge. I mean beaten dog is good imo. Having to sit in a folding chair drinking decaf on a weekend night and listen to people just be sad together is the gayest thing in the world. It feels pathetic.

>It doesn't really seem like this is your own experience
Well then I guess I better work on that last line.

im like 90% sure the last sentence isn't grammatically correct.
maybe like:
>No one knew what to do or say, but it seemed that everyone on board was a terrorist.
or:
>No one knew what to do or say, but it seemed the plane was occupied entirely by terrorists.

the 'but before' clause in the first sentence introduces timeframe ambiguity. i know you mean the attendant starts backing up and then jessica does the shit, but it could be read like jessica does it before she begins to backup, or even before she looks around in a fear, which doesnt make sense.
desu the first sentence should be at least two sentences. i would do 3

you cant use commas to separate speech when it's listed like that. like e.g. this can be read very very badly
>the man next to Ice Cylinder said, “Jessica is that you?” Elliot asked
i think you need semi-colons or separate sentences

put a full stop after 'manner', and *maybe* a colon after 'shrug'

really though you get to learn these things just by writing more. i think you should always write more per session than this (unless it's poetry, i guess)

pastebin.com/yqQyM20g

(i made these two crits
if anyone still values the crit to receive crit honour system, which doesnt seem to be the case)

I didn't even think the commas separating speech was wrong, it's what I've done for all of them but i guess it does read pretty bad in hindsight.

This wasn't from one session by the way, I normally write 1-2 thousand words each time I sit down to write.

>The shop is bigger than an average cornershop, sells snacks and East Asian household essentials.

I think the sentence could do with reworking - saying 'it sells' makes more sense, but the sentence itself comes across weird and it could do with some more editing than that.

>stupidly high counter

'stupidly' sounds fairly childish. I'd use 'very' instead or remove the word entirely - 'high counter' does the job.

>To the people coming in, it looks like she’s 190+ cm tall.

Too specific regarding the hight. Would you look at somebody and think "this person looks 191 centimetres tall"? I wouldn't

>One friend surrenders in their debate as to whether a teacher of theirs is a real breathing person (he isn’t).

>Another types that they must attend a cello lesson and offlines similarly.

It took me a while to work out these sentences. They're awkward and not obvious what they are referring to. Is Addison talking to these people on her phone?

>The correct way to fix it would be to sleep more the night before, but fuck that

It sounds like you switch from the voice of the narrator to the voice of Addison at the end, which can work but doesn't in this instance.

>It’s common to see shrewd dàmā in sun hats and tracksuits amassed round the produce trays, trying to pick out the choicest oranges, leeks, etc. More relevantly, it also means the bananas are processed by the bunch, so Addison can tear off one banana per bunch and have a dinner of five or six of them.

Though this is a description of something very mundane it was the best flowing part of your work.

>‘You work here often?’ he asks, not looking at her.
‘No,’ says Addison, continuing in English because of the pun’s failure, ‘I mean, yeah but unenthusiastically. It’s the family business so I’m below minimum wage… You looking for anything in particular?’ She leans over the counter to see Song worming around the deep end of the shop.

Why would she mention her wage immediately to a stranger who didn't ask about it? Unrealistic dialogue.

Most parts after this are okay, though at the end suddenly Addison is referred to as "Addie". Why the change?

is me, if you're interested.

Oh boy did I fuck up the formatting in this post. Guess that's what I get for phoneposting.

ive posted like 10 crits in these threads and this is the first good crit ive ever received. thanks so much man. the addie/addison thing is intentional (and consistently done) but it's original enough that i dont want to explain it here

gonna try to do yours:

>William sat on the grass by his bicycle
better as
>William sat by his bicycle on the grass
cos otherwise it could be inferred that the bicycle is not on the grass. or maybe im autistic and overthinking it.

>He was sat by a lake surrounded by a circular enclosure of trees, birds calling to one another from their branches.
you dont need to specify for a second time that he's sitting. 'Surrounded by a circular enclosure' is tautological. I would also cut 'to one another' because, i assume, william can't talk to birds, but that might just be me having a sparser style.

>A soft wind brought a steady stream of leaves to the ground, carrying a few as far as the water which gently rippled the surface as they landed.
this initially reads like the water ripples the surface of each leaf, which i dont think is what you mean.

after that i only have really anal comments

>a man and a dog
'a man and his dog' maybe??

>some other animal
'some other' is tautological again, and the 'other' is always stupid because it's not like the dog is tracking itself. either 'some animal' or just 'an' would be better.

>He took a final drag from his cigarette
feels like it should be 'the cigarette', cos the reader knows it's his.

>particular care
tautological, which is weird because a lot of writers use this turn of phrase. it's definitely bad. just write 'care'

>pulled his bicycle to its upright position.
'pulled his bicycle upright'

> He had been at the lake for a couple of hours and although he had planned to stay for longer the chill began to make him uncomfortable.
'was beginning' instead of 'began' imo

>a goose had began
it's 'had begun'.
if you have an auxiliary verb you should use 'begun', otherwise you should use 'began'

> he had came for
it's 'had come'
same error as the above. they're all case-by-case and impossible remember ;_;

I was thinking something on the line of pic related when talking about that stanza. 'Edgy' hits the spot, actually.

It should be obvious, but references are lost on those who don't know what you're talking about, and they're just that: a reference, an inside joke, a meme. 'I know that, you know that, we're so smart! Fuck normies.' Don't build a poem around references, the lukewarm feeling of getting one is far away from what poetry is about.

I always just assume people crit.

It's more vivid, with some exaggerations as the other user mentioned. But it's still empty prose, unless there is some additional context you should provide. As silly as it sounds, a good question you should ask yourself while rereading is 'so what?'

crishnacat.weebly.com/

Critique my blog, it has a collection of short poems. There's only 5 of them but I'd appreciate any feedback.

...

> thinks he's well read and a good enough writer to give honest and useful critique of other anons' works

i dont write in english

No worries, I'm happy to help. I appreciate your advice and have made some edits based on it. Good luck to you and your writing.

"Look up" he said

"At what? What am I looking for?" She replied.

"Look up towards the sky and open your mouth. Open, and then swallow the gray sky, the soft light, the hidden sun, the endless cloud. Swallow it all! Leave me in darkness searching for sunshine on your lips—in your eyes, your mouth, your kisses: do this, and I will have no choice but to love you forever."

"I can't. It can't be done!" she laughed.

"You must try."

I like it a lot

The passenger, mouth opening wide, a grotesque snake swallowing something whole, turned to the driver and said, without emotion, so loud that I could hear it clearly through the bus window, “Did you hear what happened yesterday?”
The driver turned to the passenger and said just as loud, mouth opening just as wide, “I already made my post about it.”
The passenger said, “So did I.”
The driver’s face did nothing, and, like a record just up and playing from wherever the needle gets placed they said, “Did you hear what our president said about what happened yesterday?”
The passenger said, somehow only saying but with the volume of screaming, like the zing and the punch with which a bee kills itself, “Our? Nope! He’s not my president!” Then they laughed, the whole string of expression broken into individually started and stopped “ha”-s, each one at some points a subtly, at others a radically different pitch, rising and falling seemingly at random. They both laughed like that, the driver’s laughter overlapping the passenger’s laughter, both of their random cacophonies forming a solid wall of undifferentiated, static noise which allowed for little else, which struck the inner ears, but not the hippocampus, as somehow powerful.
It died as quickly as it began, and the driver said, “Epic, you totally destroyed him. But you did hear what he said about what happened yesterday?”
The passenger said, “Yeah, it was like something a five-year-old would say!”
The driver said, “It was like something a baby would say!”
The passenger said, “That’s because he is a baby.”
The driver said, laughing mechanically, jaws opening and closing with jerky, almost predetermined strides, “He’s a big baby.”
The passenger said laughing, jaws sliding down and up like a metal door, the chute of a machine, “A big poopy diaper baby.”
The driver said, “A big old poopy diaper baby.”
The passenger said, “A big old dumb poopy diaper baby.”
The driver glanced back to the road and the press of cars, then back to the passenger, saying, “Did you hear what Starrdust Bigby said in last night’s monologue about what the president said about what happened yesterday?”

She closed her eyes, faced upwards and opened her mouth. The sidewalk seemed to him a moment of frozen time; desire amongst the gray rock and gray highway backdrops. There she was, beautifully crafted and timelessly—his heart ached. He drew body his close to hers and dropped his eyelids over his eyes, letting little light come through, though fleshly dimmed. Gripping her waist with one hand and the small of her back with another, he kissed her.

What the fuck did I just read?

ok these people have dumb unoriginal conversation you don’t need to be so bitter about it. You capture it well, but if you’re gonna loathe someone you should at least make it funny

Poem wasn't built around the reference. I added it in later for a friend. I'm probably not going to take it out so I'm gonna focus on toning the poem down on that last line.

>Addison’s eyes feel dry and the shop is empty.
Include the detail of the emptiness of the shop in the previous paragraph. It feel out of place here, rushed in.

>Having not slept at all the night before, Addison is too tired for anything to seem appealing to do. She keeps gradually nodding off, torso casting forward like a drinking bird toy...
You can remove the first sentence here. Don't tell us she's tired when you can just show it.

>The correct way to fix it would be to sleep more the night before, but fuck that.
Always remove excess wording, it makes it a mouth full
"She knows she should get more sleep, but fuck that."

>Being antiquated and badly run, the shop inventories fruit discretely, rather than by weight. It’s common to see shrewd dàmā in sun hats and tracksuits amassed round the produce trays, trying to pick out the choicest oranges, leeks, etc. More relevantly, it also means the bananas are processed by the bunch, so Addison can tear off one banana per bunch and have a dinner of five or six of them. It’s something to do.
This whole paragraph feels unnecessary. IMO it would show more about your seemingly disaffected and uncaring protagonist if you just said she took some bananas from the stores produce.

>It’s Song Han, whom she doesn’t know. He is broad-shouldered and has short black hair and one earring
If she doesn't know him, don't say his name. From this passage it looks like you're using third-person limited narration. By saying his name and also acknowledging Addy doesn't know him you're switching to 3rd person omniscient. Unless Song will be another character that you'll be following closely. Keep it if the rest of the story isn't solely about Addy and we'll also be seeing the inner workings of Song's life. The last paragraph tells me this might be the case. I hope this makes sense.

Also show don't tell. "...when a broad shouldered young man entered the store... One diamond stud flashed in his ear as he scanned the store... She could see his short black hair above the stores shelves." You don't have to do it exactly like that, but it makes it feel more natural than just giving us everything at once to slowly introduce the physical attributes of a character.

> Song laughs, or rather, breathes outwards quickly multiple times while staring straight at her.
You could just say "laughs through his nose". Again, less words, more concise.

Characters are just dumb stereotypes of #resistance dipshits. It's a boring and unoriginal use of caricatures.

I wrote this post. I am going to change the second time through of the A phrase to this...

>Alas, what would I say
To make myself seem worthwhile
A fool simply dreaming
A fool simply scheming
As you make me feel a way I can’t explain

I think it better relays the story I am trying to put across.

I hate it

I tied my shoelaces today. It wasn't the first time I'd done it but it was the first time in eighteen years that I'd felt proud of it. I celebrated with a soda. While I was drinking, the bottle slipped out of my hand and I spilled soda down my sweater and on my jeans. This always happens. Whenever I feel at all satisfied with myself, something happens to ruin my day.

Der letzte Tag, ein Samstag, brach um sieben Uhr fünfunddreißig an, als N.M. klingelte. Die Augen unseres Helden, D.F., bewegten sich rapide hinter seinen zugezogenen Lidern, Wasser mag doch jeder, das Klingeln dingdongdingdong dingdongdingdong dingdongdingdong vermochte ihn erst beim dritten - aber nicht letzten - Läuten zu wecken, dummer Hurensohn, dummer Bastard, und er verließ das Bett (lechzte, lechzte, lechzte), noch im Gestern verfangen, das erst um vier Uhr vier erloschen war, mit einer Bewegung, einer Rührung, die die allerletzte dieser Art bleiben sollte. Ein Mann wächst nur bis zu einem bestimmten Punkt, das Namensschild an seiner Tür, der Türrahmen. Kleiner Hurensohn, nichtsnutzig, albern. Ein Blick aus dem Fenster, schlagartig wach, als hätte er noch nie geschlafen: Ein grauer VW Polo auf dem Parkplatz - ach was - der Zahnarztpraxis. Dort stand er zuerst im Sommer zweitausendsechzehn, zuletzt vor einem Jahr. Also, dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdong, kein Vogel war zu hören, keiner, öffnete D.F. seinen Schrank, eine Flasche fiel um, anlasslos, derweil N.M. vor der Tür stand, warum - er wollte ihn ermorden - wusste nur er, allein, einsam, keiner sonst, auch wenn D.F. es hätte wissen müssen; vor 15 Jahren schon, gottloses Stück Scheiße, hätte er es wissen müssen, kétségtelenül. Er trat auf eine Plastikflasche, er war schon angezogen. Gestern Nacht hat er wunderschön gekotzt, ist auf seinen Magen gefallen, mehrmals, immer wieder. Heute Morgen: Nicht einmal Vögel hört man, dingdong dingdong dingdong. Er ging die Treppe runter, wie jeden Tag. Die Tür ging auf. Er hat wunderschön gekotzt, gestern noch, ist auf seinen Magen gefallen, ja, jetzt ist alles dumm, jetzt ist alles blöd, kein Vogelgezwitscher vernahm er. N.M. stand vor ihm, wie ein Baum, hinter ihm war der Rest, die Sonne fiel auf seinen Nacken, unverändert. Der Rest: Sein Auto, die Straße, die Zahnarztpraxis, weiter rechts das Tanzstudio. Er, N.M., versuchte sein Grinsen - er grinste wie ein Schwertfisch -, wie immer zu unterdrücken, meistens gelang es nicht. --Sag auch, warum du lachst, D.F. fragend, selber lachend, er musste nach oben gucken, seinen Kopf heben, um in sein Gesicht zu gucken, sein Rücken tat weh, seit Jahren schon tat er weh, trotzdem hob er seinen Kopf, um in sein Gesicht zu gucken, entwürdigend war das, sieben Uhr siebenunddreißig war es. Das wusste er nicht, konnte es nicht wissen.
--Hat seine Gründe, immer noch wie ein Schwertfisch.
--Seit wann bist du in S.?
--Seit ... Er schloss seinen Mund, musterte das Vorzimmer, als wäre D.F. nicht anwesend. Seine Augen, sie waren schwarz, durchliefen den Raum, rastlos nach Veränderungen suchend, fanden nichts. Alles war gleich. Nichts, seit A.L. gestorben war, die Ananas die kann was, hatte sich verändert. Nichts: der Boden, die Wände, die Decke - alles war gleich, an Ort und Stelle geblieben. Auch das Bild, in Front vor ihm, hing noch an seinem Platz, unverschämterweise.

thanks for the crit blud :))

Well it's not much, but it's fairly solid.

again, not much... need more to go on

wtf

"by way of" is awkward. "in a very improvised manner" is awkward. This whole passage is awkward and lame, plus it's too short

>he was sat
hold the chav talk m8.
>the chill began
should be "the chill had begun"
Also the "began" in the next sentence disturbs lexical diversity. Despite my complaints, I can actually relate to the spectacle of a petulant young man engaging in self destructive behaviors in a beautiful natural setting. So the passage actually captured my interest. You're perceptive, but the prose doesn't quite live up to it yet.

This is really good advice, applies to a lot of empty shit I see here.

thesaurus abuse (words like "whereof", "therein", "thereafter" etc. all belong in legal writing, not a fantasy story)... idk where this is, what this is, whether this is real or fantasy, or wtf is going on. It's relatively well-written... I guess. I get a sense of the whole reddit aspie vibe from it all, to be perfectly frank... but it's better than that, a lot better. I just have a bias against fantasy. Maybe I should recuse myself because of that. Somehow let us in a little more gently into this world. Otherwise it's too much work for the reader to figure it out.

so what?

gay

when is a sun dark blue? what the fuck... the sun doesn't cast waves either.

you have some sort of talent, but this feels more like a warmup than an actual passage... it's undisciplined.

it's bad. sorry

I encourage anyone who feels I have not been fair to take out their anger on my own works: