Find out if you're a good writer or not

post a sample of your writing and i'll tell you if you're good or bad, or something else.

Other urls found in this thread:

veekyforums.com/thread/9639094/literature/find-out-if-you-re-a-good-writer-or-not.html
twitter.com/NSFWRedditGif

Luring in the stamina of the campaign, the willows only sifted through a small percentage of the stench of the open sewer main upwind of the conference hall. Many of the staunch citizens approached their seats with a grimace of disgust and a gush of vomit splashing against the back of their throats, wondering what they'll have to agree to that day just to keep their fingers inside. Little did they realize that their hair cuts were in vain, and it was simply an execution of an aboriginal at the expense of the high royal society of Lieught Scleoupo. There was much revulsion at the sight of the blood of the native, which always served to titillate the impressionable revolutionaries, who had so much to prove with so little power to do it, they typically backed down from dissenting parties on a rate of 30% after that, which is tweaked magnificently later on in life when stocks are established to their social security numbers.

Mama caca poo poo pee pee
*BRAAAAPAAPAPPP*
Mama caca Pepe? Poopee

bad in terms of content, also strange word choices/phrases
bad

Trah. Ahm. P.

Three syllables, yet the marking of the ever approaching end.

brief.

please be gentle, i'm a virgin to critique threads~

your syntax is wack

A short part from a story about an unfolding family drama from the viewpoint of the pet hamster. It gets momentum when the cat tries to eat the hamster and when mom loses it and goes on a killing spree.

I'm aware that it's probably worded weirdly and full of errors, keep in mind that i've learned english on Veeky Forums and would normally write in german. So i'm more interested in your opinion on the general idea, since the finetuning of the sentences wouldn't happen in english.
Thanks a lot!

--

The final straw was when Mera didn't change my water for two days in a row.
One day, i can understand; it happens.
But two, that's unacceptable on every level.
I'm still in my nest, but i can smell the rotten stench from here and yes, i'm angry. You would be too if you were dependent on such inconsiderate and airheaded creatures.
It's not just Mera, Claire forgot to clean out my cage yesterday. And this hasn't been the first time. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is if you have to take care to not step in your own feces and with every breath you inhale vaporized urine? Thought so. It's not nice, in fact it's disgusting and i never asked for it.

What gets me going even more is that this could all have been easily prevented.

lemme guess you like videogames

Not really, I just enjoy post-apocalyptic scenarios.

bad. jumps around too much.

please don't provide context. i'm not going to read it. i just want the writing.

anyways, bad.

>And then I woke up. It was all a dream.

The station wagons arrived at noon, a long shining line that coursed through the west campus. In single file they eased around the orange I-beam sculpture and moved toward the dormitories. The roofs of the station wagons were loaded down with carefully secured suitcases full of light and heavy clothing; with boxes of blankets, boots and shoes, stationery and books, sheets, pillows, quilts; with rolled-up rugs and sleeping bags; with bicycles, skis, rucksacks, English and Western saddles, inflated rafts. As cars slowed to a crawl and stopped, students sprang out and raced to the rear doors to begin removing the objects inside; the stereo sets, radios, personal computers; small refrigerators and table ranges; the cartons of phonograph records and cassettes; the hairdryers and styling irons; the tennis rackets, soccer balls, hockey and lacrosse sticks, bows and arrows; the controlled substances, the birth control pills and devices; the junk food still in shopping bags--onion-and-garlic chips, nacho thins, peanut creme patties, Waffelos and Kabooms, fruit chews and toffee popcorn; the Dum-Dum pops, the Mystic mints

um..cliche

i would keep reading this...even though it is basically one big list

The boy watched birds at play through his bedroom window. He could see the male starlings distracting the mother robin from her nest so eggs could be laid by a female starling without interruption.
Their cruelty seemed to end as the female starling took flight from the nest. The robin returned and all seemed well.
Over the course of two weeks, the boy would watch the nest, until finally, some murmur of life called from within. He watched in silent horror as bright blue egg after bright blue egg fell from the nest and shattered on the ground below. It was clear that the starling infant had hatched.

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up she was shitting brown water. The more she drank, the more she shat, but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew, and her thirst sent her crawling to the stream to suck up more water

So you fancy yourself a critic, eh? Here's a rough passage from a short story i'm working on

this is the only thing I've read in this thread worth responding to. it's fun, whatever it is.

this is generic. there's nothing of interest going on.

its nice but every use of the word "bar" after the first sticks out like a sore thumb. Try varying your language and this would be much better.

bad
gross...
bad..also this phrase "nobody knew where he came from or had been, who he had been. . ." is repetitive/confusing

I

these are not my opinions..fyi...i am op...but i do agree with the first one

Yeah, you're right. I've been writing fast to try and meet a deadline, so things like that are a bit of a placeholder.


The repetition is the entire point.

Thesaurus wanking right there.

ok then keep it..i'm just saying i don't like it

1/2
Extreme weeb warning. It's yuri

“Just let me help. It'll be easier with the two of us. You get that side.” I order her to the other side. Before she does pick it up I think I see a very sincere blush across her face accompanied by a cute smile. She picks it up with me and we hobble over to my apartment. We go to set it down against the wall opposite of the bedroom door. But before I can set it down safely it slips from my hands and smashes down onto my big toe. The same toe I dropped the heavy box on earlier. “Gyaa!” Unlike last time I'm unable to mask my reaction to the pain. I drop onto the floor and rub my foot, thinking I can somehow rub the pain away.
“Hana! Are you alright!?” Himeko shouts. She drops down next to my foot to examine the trauma area. The pain is pulsating right on my big toe.
“I'm fine. Sorry for dropping it. My hand slipped.” I say as I wince from the pain. Himeko moves my hands away from my foot so she could remove my sock. Just her taking that off is painful.
“Your bleeding!” Himeko again shouts. It appears that I am bleeding as she says. A small stream of red oozes out of a small gash on my toe.
“It's just a scratch. It sure did hurt a lot though. I wish my feet wouldn't get so cold.” I complain. Whenever I stub my toe when they're bone cold like this the pain is increased a hundred times. I guess I have pretty bad circulation.. Himeko is still in a small panic mode.
“What do we do? I'm pretty sure I have bandaids in one of the boxes. Damn it. I'll never find them in this mess.” She laments.
“It's fine. I just need a paper tow-!” In the middle of me talking Himeko thrusts my bleeding tow into her mouth. “Hi-Hi-Himeko!” I yell in surprise.
“Thwith wilth stophe ha bweeing.” Himeko mumbles with my tow in her mouth. Her soft wet tongue sweeps around my toe, slurping up any blood that escapes my body.
“I can't understand you! Take that out of your mouth!” I tell her. This feels wrong. I hadn't showered yet today, so my feet are all disgusting and covered in dried sweat and god knows what else. Regardless her tongue eagerly licks every spec of skin. She takes my tow out for a moment to explain.
“This will stop the bleeding. And you won't get any blood on the floor.” She says, then immediately returns to sucking on my toe. Her saliva feels like the slickest of lubricant on my bare flesh. A funny sweet taste fills up my mouth. It's like I can almost taste how her saliva through my toe.

2/2

“Stop! This is wrong! You shouldn't be doing that!” I tell her. She pays me no heed and continues her work. “I said stop Himeko!” Getting upset I yell at her. I'm borderline about to push her off right now. Himeko ceases for a second to looks up at me.
“What's wrong?” Himeko asks. She actually looks confused as to why I'd be upset. Is this girl human?
“It's gross. Why would you think that I would be OK with that?” I ask her. She grins and holds up her hand to my face.
“Why wouldn't I think you were OK with it? You're grinning like a pervert right now.” Himeko says to me. Lifting my hand to my face I feel around for my expression. As if I was paralyzed I couldn't tell that I had the largest grin right now. It's a squiggly uneven grin complimented by beads of sweat rolling down my face.

Perfectly reasonable. My best friend who proofreads my stuff wasn't very fond of it either. Definitely not the best I can do.

Now how do you feel about this more experimental part?

>at noon
oh ya because you and I both know what noon means nudge nudge fucking weirdo
>moved toward the dormitories
to do what? take the chili pepper challenge?
>the objects inside
like objects within? sounds gay
>bows and arrows
very cute

C+

Francis smiled at the cowering of his opponent knowing full well that he had won this battle. His opponent quivered at the sight of his enlarged image on the monitor

Neither had partaken in a hacking battle of this sort yet they knew full well who was capable of making a career out if this so called hobby

...or did they?

Just then the lights went out and a wind swept through the room, for a split moment the hairs on the boys heads and even those on their arms slightly danced. The monitors in unison shut off and every computer ceased all activity. The light hum the computers emmitted came to a silence as well

A new face presented itself in the darkness uttering a phrase

"I shut off everything can I have some candy"

A young girl with tentacle legs and long brown hair was among them who gave off the scent of gasoline and fish.

Who was she and what did she want with these boys?

"I want Candy"

Find out soon for the low low price of 14.99 shipping and handling may vary

Bsmsls jsiaoos laosoa soq9 isos91k ks9qn9 is8j js8n jsjsbqo qpwoqp into dkwisthenzkskksks nzi ksi mcheeeeez naksmrpw t-t-tthus ksosp

I understood every word in that passage, I don't know how the poster was thesaurus wanking.

Touching. I feel like I can face the world again.

Tuesfay is co~ming did yu yu hakush-bring ur cooooawt

I live en a jiant pucket

Dooooyooo

Dooaayoooo

Pucket and all characterd from Macbeth and Juliet are all Shakespeare characters all rights reserved no copyright infringement intended

He looks up toward the windows and thinks he sees a bit of paper in one corner moving. Joey pauses mere feet away from the steps to the front porch. He knows he's being watched, the feeling is too eerie for him not to be. The hair on his neck stands on end as he approaches the stairs. "It's just a house," he thinks to himself. Swallowing the lump in his throat he begins to ascend the steps even though his skin crawls and tells him to leave. He glances around nervously and the only sight he can take in are the foreboding shadows that seem to engulf everything except the small swath of light cast by the flickering jack-o-lantern. Joey whimpers to himself as he pulls his shaking legs up the stairs. One by one he climbs in short, staggered steps.

bad...

it's not really that different to me from the first desu...it's just very abstract and nothing really grabs me....so bad

Ns skao msos slsopkatb jajs catacat boom shaksoso mxl9qo laka jsioq0099u1b u8

Why? Bad isn't exactly constructive criticism.

whoa..if i write "t b h" Veeky Forums automatically converts it to desu? haha...didn't know that

...* yhink user was trying to say something here you boort boort

What's wrong with them if they're used for the correct purpose?

bad
bad
i want to say bad...but i like the phrase 'jiant pucket' somehow
bad

bad

i'm not trying to provide constructive criticism, i'm only saying if i think you are a good writer or not, or if anything else occurred to me while reading your words. i think i can usually tell in a paragraph or so if someone is good.

little clitoris dick sucker cock fucker fuck her in the face fuck her fucker tuck her in to bed, give me head, lick the junk, pop the trunk, suck me off, fuck my cock, stop for lunch, captain crunch, munch and munch, lick my balls, to the walls, fist fuck her until the stool comes out, clean the house, back again, bring a friend, spit roast, get toast, head hot, her heads not on your cock head, bring the bread. And there he was, he who hadn't had, but still hadn't had not, had had a have-not with the half-knot tied with eyes closed. and there he was back in the jungle, air steamy, the steam rose from the leaves on the shrubs and trees, he shrugged and sat on his knees, and his rifle he laid across his lap, now he's back, cut the crap, cut the shit, fuck the bitch.
Seventeen days had passed since the Lord had killed off all the dinosaurs in a great flood of fire. Annhilation of the great race of lizards, the greatest tragedy in the past million years. However, one great beast survived, and him we call crocodile, and the blood of the great beasts engorges his veins still. In truth, his lineage is even more ancient and storied than the rest, and his primitive bone crushing jaws are a testament to his power.
And Jesus said: render unto God what is god's, and render onto ceasar what is ceasar's. But the Romans still strung him up all the same.
if you don't understand this, you are a pseud

bad

...

i posted a stripped down version of this in a previous thread and everyone seemed to like it.

i added some flavor while drunk and, while i like it, i'm concerned other readers won't.

so watchu think!!??

What's even the point of this thread then? If you don't give criticism then no one knows what you think good or bad is. It would be one thing if you said why something was bad or not, I always welcome criticism. But this is just kind of masturbatory.

bad overall... but i think if you got rid of the crassness and provided more structure/depth the rest could be ok...at least it has some energy

I like this more than I feel I should.

:(
i didn't understand this at all..but i think you are a good writer...but don't try to bias me anyways by telling me other peoples' opinions!

how about me?

The Voyager Poem


In Year DF847580 the sun will die,
and we will no longer deal in decimals.

Cold fusion will only be 40 years away
from keeping us warm and alive
on some jovial moon.

God will have came back to find
an empty planet and a note
laser-cut in gold saying
something bittersweet about leaving.

We’ll be burning up on Mars’s new beach
front property, huddled up against the blood-sun,
and everything will be red. And we’ll sleep
during the day. And nights will make us feel
strange about the new galaxy.

All the reanimated will have to be put down,
because we couldn’t afford it. Some will cry
when Elon Musk dies again. Some will cry
watching the frail, demented, currently unknown,
unread, undead poets struggle with their meals
and speaking. The process will be perfected
shortly after cold fusion, on some jovial
night. And we’ll dig-up the dead again,
as we always have. And we’ll have them read to us,
as they always have.

sometimes i do...but sometimes i don't know why i think something is bad...or good for that matter..i can usually tell without really having to think about it

it really does require some context.

before I'd posted more of the text, which provided that context.

sorry!!!!!

bad

But there's no point in posting that unless you give reasons as to why you think it's so. It's fine to think like that. I'm not judging that. But the entire reason to respond and post something is to give some sort of feedback. You're just posting a thought you have that doesn't benefit anyone or gives any insight to anything.

Big math. Letters. We're talking X, Y and Z. All of the above.

= coming soon=

Game faces everyone. I want to see no eyeballs. This test will be indicative of who you are, forever.

I thought I was screwed and then I just look at the thing and I find the first question (rather easily): 2 + 2 it reads and I think kid's stuff.

Child's play.

Later

I'm handed a B. Incorrect significant digits

and now I just don't know what to think.

Teach pats me on the back. Says, "Pthh. Ace in my book," invites me to the lounge.

I knew how I had really done. Somehow I had to make it look like a cinch.

"In practicality-" I explain. Teacher looks up, quite an angle to turn to, and says, "You actually did worse than the other kids. 'In practicality' I hope I never have to imagine".

The way out was a walk of shame. I enter the sunlight.

"Well, I thought I did pretty good" I say clandestine to myself.

I drop the thing. I was a fraud, and equally misunderstood. Some odd years go by. My wife's cleaning the attic and she finds a dusty old report card. There's a little smudge plastered to it (probably drywall, something my hands are just always into) and she scratches it off. Slowly a letter surfaces: D.

"Whoa she says. I didn't know you knew letters"

"Oh, X, Y and Z" I say.

"O" she says back. We laugh. Her hair is full of light.

Huh. I guess I really did do a bang up job, in those days. It is the people you choose.

-fin-

:(

>adds quotation marks halfway through
move aside Cormac, there's a new rebel in town

Who are some authors that write kind of in this style? There was one Veeky Forums poster who was working on a story about a peach farmer I remember having similar spareness.

i could be wrong and my opinion is not representative of what other people will think. if you believe that, then do not listen to me. i'm not claiming to understand all the nuances of your writing/plot or what it all means. i'm making a superficial, fast judgment....

bad

When I was seventeen, I crafted a makeshift straw out of a Fruit Roll-up and an antiquated batch of Elmer's Glue and directly entered it into the center mass of my girlfriend's petite apple bottomed ass, opening it agape half an inch, if any inch at all. I then took the lukewarm glass bottle of Strawberry Yoohoo and methodically poured it down the pipe, keeping an even hand as not to divert the slow steam from the foreign object lodged into living orifice.

My delight soon turned to confusion, the steady drain came to stop as the heavy Pepto-Bismol colored liquid began to overflow the fruit flavored straw, running along bulges of cream soft glue, mixing together in a stream of pink hue. As I put the bottle away, my creation of towering-suger-spectacle-wonderment began to collapse in upon itself, shrinking down to a firm puddle looking entrenchment, then stiffening quickly, taking on the appearance of dried gum left forgotten.

I tried to peel away the now formed seal around her anus, it's texture not what was expected on my fingers, an uneasiness came over me as i brushed the harsh prickly patch of congealed Fruit Roll-up, Elmer's Glue, and Yoohoo, melted into shape like plastic Tupperware over an oven. I did not like the touch of it. None the less, I carried on, sticking my index finger into the fray as it gave way like pressing on butter, not breaking but only flexing, downward into the depth of the crevice.

As I reached the end and began the exit, when fully dislodged I became surprised to find the width of what entered remained open when evacuated, shaped as though it was wet clay. I quickly inserted two, then three, then four fingers to see if the effect remained. Not wanting an uneven formation i made sure to rotate my hand left and right to create a circle like entrance rather than that of a column, as i knew she'd prefer the aesthetic.

Despite my hard-fisted intentions I made no progress in puncturing the anal quarantine and for the first time began to doubt my abilities as a good boyfriend. With nothing else within reach I grabbed the bottle of Yoohoo. Flipping it over bottom side up, I spun around the remaining drink left inside a few times then with a sudden force rammed it headlong into her gaping asshole.

I pushed, and I pushed, to my wrist, to my elbow, to my shoulder. 'God' I asked. 'Why are you making this so difficult' I asked, inserting my other arm. To my wrist, to my elbow and then i heard his voice. For it was Grand, Powerful, it was Beneficence and it was Sanctuary. 'Yes, Lord, yes.' I said finding an unknown strength as I stood, feeling his Glory, my arms raised to the Heavens, as her legs dangled down my chest, dripping with a now deep black sludge, and with the Grace of God, I ran, deep into the night.

i don't feel like i needed it though..

what do you like

pipi!

what are you looking for

And yet some still deny that the west is culturally sick and dying.

why are you all posting weird sexual things...i don't understand it and i don't like it...except for the first paragraph i kind of laughed there for some reason at the thought of sticking a fruit roll up in someone's butt

i liked 2 of the things so far...so i am looking for things like that. the one about college that had the big list of things that was interesting for me to read...and then the other one that was very odd but about some guy named Jerry (who chooses to call himself different names sometimes i guess lol?) and had Hindu sounding words in it

why did you hate my story @9639380 it's not like true and dear to me, but I just meant to be funny

it was getting very technical haha..and about a thing i didn't particularly care about...i was kind of relieved actually when you started talking about religion at the end

My grandpa had kids at my age – my cum is in a fag's stomach again, and I feel like listening to Jethro Tull. I hope he's asleep, because I don't want him to see me making the sign of the cross, since I have to say the Our Father or it bothers me, and you can't say it without that. Another tomorrow coming up, and I have work, but it doesn't have me.

this is schizophrenically perfectionist as fuck---I believe strongly in this penchant for trash-lit as an opportunity as well

Fingers dance slickly on the table, not willing, but able, oh so able, buttery and smooth like soft cream, slip it in her drink, drowsy and dizzy, she won't resist me, she can't resist me, tie her up, make her suck, throat gets fucked, like a cunt, what I want. Tie her up, tie her down, fuck her butt, bleeding ass, break the glass, break her legs, break the skin, cave it in, reach around, fuck the wound, make her swoon, make her feel, peel and peel, flay the skin, cut the minge, make her cringe, stretch the flap, make it snap, cut her nose, what are those? Slit her eyes, split her thighs, crush her hands, can't fight back, twist her tits, with vice grip, pop her skull, eyes like grapes, make it gape.
BUT-

please no

Why not? Not descriptive enough?

Here's the opening paragraph to a flash fiction story (

Post a writing of yours, faggot.

Rate my story. I've been reading Hemingway.

I went to the lake. The lake was there. I sat down by the lake. A girl tapped me on my shoulder.
'What are you doing?' she asked.
'Nothing.' I said.
'You're a dumbass,' she said.
'I know,' I said.
I followed her. She didn't hear me coming. Bam! Socked her. I rubbed my tent-like ballsack on her face.
'Fuck yourself,' I said.
'Kill yourself,' she said.
'Why?' I asked.

[It's left open-ended for effect.]

Also, proof this is objectively Hemingway-esque writing. I have already achieved his style as this meagre age.

In the early hours of the 13th of August, 1953 - a Tuesday morning - there sat a man of fifty-three in a comfortable bourgeoisie dwelling in the center of London, at work with a sudoku puzzle from the morning paper. The ambient, ticking of his grandfather’s clock worked in harmony with his cognition. His mind was impermeable to distraction; totally immersed in his puzzle. Harmony pervaded his space, from the impeccably ordered furniture to the assortment of journalistic accolades that maintained flawless equality of height. There was not a stray item to be seen, all was in unison. He believed in being organized in all walks of life. Anything that might betoken mental or physical disorder, unsettled him. Jonathan Maroon was a man of simple leisure’s and simple labors; both of which he regulated in magisterial balance. His leisures were few and far between, an occasional visit to the theatre or the opera were the only dissipations of his life.He was a stoical man, who valued tranquility over all. There was little that could perturb him, and it was this resolute pragmatism, that landed him his enviable journalistic project.

In two hour’s time - after a pitstop at his workplace - he would be making his way to Cane Hill Asylum to uncover the reason behind Benjamin Galini’s decline into madness. Galini had been a very well known philosopher, hence the journalistic appeal. Mr. Maroon was chosen by his superiors due to his lengthy experience and infallible track-record, a seasoned journalist who reported with clinical accuracy. This came down to his belief that in doing his job, he was not only reporting to the great people of London, but to the universe itself; making sense of life’s many conundrums. He was a simple-hearted lover for faultless logic and the clarity in which it bestowed unto his life.

>Correct purpose

Perhaps the incorrect purpose is truly correct

Hmm methinks you just don't want to pay the 14.99 or the shipping and handling

She was upset by their making fun of him because she felt him to be an extension of herself, not because she loved him - and she didn't respect him either - but because he had become lodged, through time and habit, into her life. Involuntarily, she had invited him into her life, first as an accent, as a distraction, until unconsciously, he had become the dull, ugly center. There was no one in the world that she despised more than this man, in those moments when he tried, and failed, to land a quip; she felt revulsion heap inside her, wrench from her stomach, into her throat, and her eyes, like burning cinders, would concentrate their hateful points on him. And so when they insulted him, she saw thrust before her eyes the enormity of her wasted life, concentrated in the figure of this ridiculous man who had become attached to her like a leech.

Smallest, fully contained piece I've written:

Daniel crumples and folds--the page lying balled before him jagged and tattooed in graphite. Each waving letter slipping on the paper's folds into the shadows underneath. If only he could see where they fell in their disjointed state. Perhaps, he believes, within the ball, somewhere among the avalanche of disappointing script, lies the inspiration he seeks. Ironically mocking him as it hides all to well within his crumpled failure. He thinks to himself if only he could get a good start, he then knows his work will become a masterpiece.

Two more times, taking Daniel late into the night, he tries greatly to arrive at an acceptable introduction with no success. Switching off his desk lamp and leaving his study, Daniel takes to his bed and slips beneath the sheets. Giving up and eventually falling asleep. All the crumpled pages littering his study weaving perfect lives into their impenetrable folds.

first post best post

A page 'tattooed in graphite'? ... Jesus.

veekyforums.com/thread/9639094/literature/find-out-if-you-re-a-good-writer-or-not.html

wtf

These replies are ironic, right?

Not understanding the metaphor in relation to the entire piece... Jesus

Sure fuck it why not

Amarantha accused him, offhandedly, of having eyes for Holly Blue. The accusation was almost a standard formality of modern marriage, as lady's maids were all young, pretty, and flawlessly huffed. But Holly Blue was a typical thete, loud and classless and heavily made up, and Ronald couldn't abide her. If he had eyes for anyone, it was those beautifully realized sculptures propping up the archway just ahead; at least they had impeccable taste going for them. Not a moment after passing under the archway, the group was set upon by niggers and I've lost the will to finish this

wtf is that

None of this is interesting. This sample is 100% fluff; fluff that doesn't even set a tone well. You need to make better choices about what information the reader needs to engage them.

Also who would ever bring a mattress with them? That's ridiculous.

Apparently it's lit, but on a different website

bad
good
bad
bad

The premise and snarky narrator are both unsalvagable ideas. Nobody wants to hear an unlikable hamster whine about not getting taken care of.

bad i think...not entirely sure...the ending makes me want to keep reading
bad, funny tho

These aren't really the items college kids would be bringing to college.

You're damn right it makes you want to keep reading... It's the best thing in this damned thread.