Are there any writefags on Holla Forums? What have you recently written? Just curious because I'm trying to write a LN about an user that gets isekai'd to some fantasy world or some shit.
Post any material you would like others to read/criticize here. I'll post most what I've written so far keep in mind I have no experience writing and did this in like 15 minutes, pls no bully. Not a datamining thread just hoping I could get inspiration from you guys.
Other urls found in this thread:
docs.google.com
twitter.com
Just an intro so far:
It was the third time today, I released my load into the blanket and wiped it down on the bedsheets so the white wouldn't show. I was thinking of that cute little brunette that sits next to me in Physics, I wasn't attached or in love or anything, girls like that use a guise of purity and innocence to selfishly get what they want from men, I was no fool, so I blew my load thinking of that slut. It was the same routine, wake up, beat my meat, go to school, come back home and and then jack off again, eat, then watch anime while jacking off and go to sleep, repeat. That dark, filthy room was my cave, I never left it except for school. Of course at school I was able to act like a normal non-depraved person (I actually am), no one suspected truly how pathetic I was. At most they thought of me a little weird or jaded because I never went to social gatherings of any sort, but a normal college student nonetheless. I didn't really have any friends, I was completely alone then and avoided social interaction for fear of making my true self known, I still cared about my reputation if I was even conspicuous enough to have one. I hated myself, but what I hated most was my self awareness, I could only envy those creeps and weirdos that had no care for their surroundings, they still had friends amongst themselves and were happy not worrying about what the normies were whispering behind their backs. This lifestyle of course came with a downside, which is a non-existant love life and why I always thought I would die a virgin, sex almost seemed something like a myth or fable to me, unreal. I stayed away from girls in particular, not that I was scared or anything just that I didn't want the normies to look at me and think "Wow what a beta male," or "Does he really think she'll give him sex if he keeps clinging to her like that," or "Wow he's in college but still acts like a high school virgin." My biggest fear is them looking at me as some sad little worm hopelessly squirming for the least bit of love and recognition, I didn't want to appear small and tried my best to be independent.
My prospects for the future were dim and I always thought my time here on earth would end by my own hands, suicide. Happiness was a valuable commodity for me then, all I could really get were temporary fixes from my escapism, namely anime and video games. For this reason I took my leisure time very seriously, my happiness shone brightest when I was home watching anime or shitposting on anonymous imageboards. I never really lost my imagination, I daydreamed all the time. These dreams were of some parallel me, a valiant soldier defending his city from an enemy siege, or a rebel leader fighting a tyrannical government. This escapism prevented me from going through existential dread, I don't know what I would have done if I lost these things then all of a sudden. I used to think I was born in the wrong century, perhaps I ACTUALLY would have been a great leader or war hero if I were born 500 years ago where I would be forced to be competent and sociable. I mean, if I'm bold enough to say I'm no where near dumb or 'average intelligence', I was a really intelligent kid just lacked motivation for a world I had no business or interest in. I dreamed of being swept away to some land away from everyone without modern technology and communications where I would prosper. Of course my self awareness actually prevented me from genuinely believing in something ridiculous like that so I always brushed those beliefs aside as my own folly.
All of my experiences and beliefs up until then changed when 'that' happened.
I started writing a fantasy novel but haven't been disciplined about sitting down to write it. It's hard to force yourself to keep writing and whenever I sit down I end up brainstorming and outlining more than writing, even though I know what happens in the first several chapters.
Would you mind uploading in a pdf? I just find it hard to read long blocks of text on this site because of formatting. I can't promise that I'll have much to say (or that I'll read it tonight) but if you post it I'll reply by tomorrow.
It's literally all I have so far. I fucked the formatting up so sorry about that. What's your fantasy novel about?
I'm not ignoring you I'll respond to both a little later. I just don't want to read it until I'm done multi-tasking.
It's fine. Thanks for the bump
I did one of those things where you write a story inspired by a painting. Here's the story, painting is pic related.
Circe had taken every pain to make her workshop as quiet as possible. Transmutation was a very precise art. Even the slightest slip or deviation from ritual could turn an entire batch of hermetic gold into worthless sludge. Or that’s what the book said anyway. She had purchased the moldy tome at an obscene price from a suspiciously well dressed gypsy boy. She hadn’t bothered to haggle; she had visited all the loan-sharks in the quarter last week and was now ephemerally rich. With the money she bought a wheelbarrow full of lead, a house on the edge of the city, a case of fifty-two year old wine, and a bottle of rat poison. If the book didn’t resolve the debt she inherited from her father, the poison would have to do.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, recounting the memorized steps. She filled the beaker with wine, then lit a flame under it. Her gaze passed through it while it heated, transfixed by the red and warped world on the other side. The incantation seemed to spill from her lips as she poured wine from the beaker into the goblet. Dei Complices Neptune Minerva Mars Ceres. A sort of nervous anticipation filled her as she traced the circle and inscribed triangle around the goblet. She could feel the energy in her hands. Her goal was close now. Mercurius Diana Vulcanus Vesta Venus. She reached into the wheelbarrow and grabbed a chunk of lead. The table was still but the wine in the goblet was beginning to form ripples. She carefully dipped the tip of the piece into the liquid then let it drop without getting wet. Almost immediately afterward the wine started to boil.
She sat up in her chair with a start, perplexed by the scene in front of her. The room was filled with the thick smell of grapes, and the royal purple steam obfuscated the inside of the goblet. After a few intoxicating moments, the cup stopped steaming and she saw a small chunk of gold sitting inside. With avarice in her eyes she leaned over the table and started to scoop it out. She stopped when she noticed the large emerald orbs emerging from the steam.
I guess I'll volunteer myself as word-whore for the next 24 hours or so. Post a request and I'll write about it, as long as its not straight up porn or whatever.
Write about the gay community poster coming to terms with his repressed homosexuality
that's a really nice word
Really great work here user
If I can't be arsed to write normally how do you expect me to write something here?
not everyone likes creative writing, user
you are one of those people
nah I'm just tired laying down using a laptop on my chest. I might pop in tomorrow and actually contribute.
i c, sry 4 assume
finally, a place to post my new novel Banana Galaxy
Chapter 1
I pulled out the Banana from my bag. Very yellow, slight green tint at the top stem, and not curved, which was odd. It was nearly perfectly straight. This could have something to do with genetic engineering of bananas? Nonetheless, I opened it up. The peel ripped down like skinning a rabbit. Soon the wet, rainforest scent of the interior entered my nose.
Suddenly I saw the light. The air started to thicken into custard-like consistancy. My fingers swam through custard as if it were a swimming pool. All directions it stretched out on an infinite plane. I knew it was Banana milk, I had seen it before in my dreams. I walked upon a drain plateau and drank some of the milk from my palm. As far as the eye could see, the sky was yellow and an infinite ocean of banana milk surrounded me. Horizon to horizon, small oil-rigs popped up. Near me, were tall water slides, not a single person was around but these slides were fully operational. Milk spouted from the tubes. It looked like so much fun, I knew I would climbing those stairs come any moment.
A large wave of milk rushed through the waterslide foundations. It was like the pier, but there were no fish or mussles, just sweet smelling banana milk. The waterslides rested upon clean steel and plastic.
...
Alright. I'm sitting up now.
I'll just copy down a poem I wrote on a receipt:
"Cause of the mire,"
they say unto me.
"Static; mire withheld,
that cause must not be present,"
I would then reply.
Lines to parchment;
this dialogue only lingers.
In the minds of the concerned,
exists an altered word,
of which this passage can only surmise.
He could hardly remember the last time he got a full night's worth of sleep. Filthy homosexuals were on his imageboard posting degenerate materials. God damn them. Whenever he saw one of them he couldn't help but get pissed off. For whatever reason he also got hard whenever he got angry, but that was no matter. After four hours in photo shop he had produced several fresh memes detailing his hatred for gays. Out of all of them, his favorite would have to be the one with the shouting bearded man in a hoodie. He just looked so gruff and aggressive and handsome and… He had gotten hard again, but he wasn't even pissed off. He glanced around the dirty apartment, trying to recall what aroused him, before settling his eyes back on the photoshop document. With a sinking stomach it occurred to him. He was the homo. His sweaty hand could barely hold the mouse as he clicked into the folder labeled "Chess Saves". It was filled to the brim with thousands of images of naked men. He spun around in his office chair and reached for the night stand where he kept his gun. He pulled open the drawer and instead found a large black dildo. He picked it up and began crying. He was too gay to even kill himself. After a few long moments of self loathing, it occurred to him to use tears as lube.
I'm taking an ~8 hour break, will resume literature prostitution then
This is fantastic. Mad props.
Holy shit user that's good you had me laughing
bump
Different user. I'll writewhore with no guarantees.
The original word-whore has returned
...
Write about Holla Forums's tranny BO
I don't know anything about it, you're going to have to give me some material to go off of.
It's a tranny and a commie. It bans anyone who makes this known and gets her army of leftypol orbiters to damage control.
pic related
I want to be a writefag and people tell me I should be but I never feel confident or have enough inspiration to write so I almost never do. Never sure what to write.
I've been working on this on-and-off for the past 2-3 weeks. It's about a salesman using his technology to control a rich business to take his money. [I'm] trying to build a dark steampunk setting, where a world war kick-started a wave of technological progress.
There's about 10-15 minutes of reading so far if that interests you. Let me know what you think.
docs.google.com
My writing tends to be heavily descriptive and contains a lot of complex figurative language. After some feedback I started toning it down, but still, any non-native English speakers might have trouble reading it. If it helps, the "main character" (more of a "only used for POV" character) is crossdressing for the first two chapters (something I might remove later).
Read through the whole thing. Just have one question.
Why does Gerald call Brian by his real name when they arrive at the manor, but gets mad at Brian when he uses his real name when they're getting away?
Anyways this is really good user, reads like something professional. Can't wait to read more.
Dubs confirms you have to write something. Write isekai cause it's fucking easy just don't try to be deep. Don't worry if you think it's bad you don't have to share it with anyone.
Brian and Tom are masquerading as Alianna and Gerald. The coach driver is a 3rd character, who remains unnamed but is distinct from Brian and Tom.
Originally, the two characters existed as Brian and Gerald, employees of Marcellus. Brian was just going to be crossdressing and Gerald would be playing the role of himself. Then, I realized that these nobodies with no perceived status would have a real difficult time getting Gastren to play along with their plan. That's why I decided to make both characters enter the party in disguise.
In addition, Brian was only crossdressing to begin with because this entire story came into being after I posted a couple short pages of ideas on a discord channel I frequent, and a user there selected the three "wear the dress, you fool", "a loud man is all I have" and "I want out". Gerald became the loud man and Brian became the fool who had to wear the dress despite not wanting to. This was originally so nonsensical I decided to invent Gerald as a separate character, make Alianna Gerald's niece, then have Brian and Tom pretend to be those two.
Gerald/Tom gets mad at the coach driver for addressing him by his real name- Brian never breaks character outside of the carriage
also you've provided some excellent feedback by the way, I'll make sure to iron out which character is which much better. probably going to call Tom by his real name before I ever introduce his alias. I'll definitely be writing more of this story over the next few weeks, feel free to drop by to read it as well as post your own work if you'd like feedback.
Good luck user. Really curious to see where this will go. Will definitely be looking out for updates on that doc.
bump