Do you like the first paragraph of the novel I'm writing?

are u writing this novel for NANOWRIMO the pod. i just (20 minutes ago) considered to do it but then decided against to do it cuz i got better things to do. but maybe in another month

also if u are doing it for NANOERIMO ur cheating

  On 10/31/2011 at 1:36 AM, troon said:

how about this:

 

It's like I'm walking in some kind of diseased rainforest with the blood of natives raining down on me. Of course it's just the rainstorms while walking through my quaint little hometown. My mind is in such a mangled state. I stop at a gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. He calls me 'bud' and I smile at him like I smile at oncoming traffic. Cute girls smile at me, while ugly hags and other losers merely grimace. None of them, including this bothersome clerk recognize the beauty in my soul.

Perfect.

Way too many adjectives. Cut 'em out. In fact you could cut a lot out. Here's a better version.

I'm walking in a diseased rainforest with the blood of natives raining on me like liquid hail. It's raining in my hometown. I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy cigarettes. He calls me bud so I smile at him like I smile at the oncoming traffic I flash a peace sign to as I pass on my bicycle. The cuter girls smile at me, but the ugly hags and other losers grimace. They don't see the beauty of my soul.

Notice how I barely added anything, but cut a ton out. That's how you improve a first draft. There's still a lot I'd change but I tried to keep your images intact even if I don't like them - this is just technical advice.

Didn't see Troon's edit. Good show. But there's no excuse for using the word "bothersome" anywhere. This is the year 2011.

im walking in a diseased rainforest with the translucent blood of natives raining down on me - and i love it. The people in my hometown would never understand, they would smile and grimace as i blew past them on my bike,straight into oncoming traffic waving peace signs. sometimes my bones got broken, but I didnt care - im made for traction. I remember the gas station clerk, trying to be friendly and sell me cigarettes - destructors of my precious body. the beautiful soul that only few could see. I t wipe away a tear and put on my james blake album at full volume, these leather slacks arent going to get any tighter and I think i might shrink into them in the bath. See you in the bahamas. With love, from uncle Rosemary.

i put on my robe and wizard hat

the pod : have you ever written a short story ?

  On 10/31/2011 at 10:07 AM, Iain C said:

Way too many adjectives. Cut 'em out. In fact you could cut a lot out. Here's a better version.

 

I'm walking in a diseased rainforest with the blood of natives raining on me like liquid hail. It's raining in my hometown. I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy cigarettes. He calls me bud so I smile at him like I smile at the oncoming traffic I flash a peace sign to as I pass on my bicycle. The cuter girls smile at me, but the ugly hags and other losers grimace. They don't see the beauty of my soul.

 

Notice how I barely added anything, but cut a ton out. That's how you improve a first draft. There's still a lot I'd change but I tried to keep your images intact even if I don't like them - this is just technical advice.

 

Didn't see Troon's edit. Good show. But there's no excuse for using the word "bothersome" anywhere. This is the year 2011.

Bored at lunchtime:

  Quote

I'm walking through a dying rainforest with the blood of natives hitting me like hail: It's raining in my hometown.

 

I stop at the gas station to buy cigarettes and the clerk calls me bud. I give him the smile I save for oncoming traffic. The cute girls smile back at me, but the hags and losers grimace. They don't see the beauty of my soul.

  On 10/31/2011 at 11:32 AM, Shit Attack said:

im made for traction.

Great phrase.

I am hiking through a rainforest and the translucent blood of natives raining down on me like water off a ducks back. Of course it's merely raining in my quaint little hometown.

I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. They make me diseased but I keep smoking them anyway. He calls me bud so I smile at him like I do to the rainforest natives as I kill them. The cuter girls never smile, while ugly hags and other losers flirt dangerously and batter their eyelids. The cute girls never recognize the beauty of my soul.

  Quote

It's raining hard, but I go to buy cigarettes. After hassling the clerk I leave to consider whether there's a beauty in my soul that the hags and losers of this rainforest will never realise.

 

"I'm gonna go listen to Linkin Park" I bite at the closing door.

 

She doesn't respond. She never does.

So I go to the gas station to buy cigarettes.

The End.

grate thread bro's :D

I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. In 3 years, I'll have his job and will have to deal with precocious little shits day in, day out.

i like it. maybe develop the clerks character a little

edit - also needs more boobs and dicks and shit

"

Cigarettes rain down on me continuously. I look up as I hear a voice call out to me from above. Several cigarettes start hitting me in the eye.

"Hey Bud", he yells at me from the rooftop and grimaces. I know I shouldn't, but I throw a piece of a sign at him. Lacking strength, I fail to throw the piece sign high enough to hit him. The sign reaches its apex and promptly starts cratering back down. Since I'm still looking up, the piece of the sign also hits me in the eye, like liquid hail.

As I lay there bleeding from the unsightly gash in my dome, I realize that I should have thrown the damn thing harder and further, like natives throwing things about in their native rainforest.

"

edit: its

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:06 PM, Iain C said:

I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. In 3 years, I'll have his job and will have to deal with precocious little shits day in, day out.

that's quite the riveting start, actually <3

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:08 PM, iep said:

"

Cigarettes rain down on me continuously. I look up as I hear a voice call out to me from above. Several cigarettes start hitting me in the eye.

"Hey Bud", he yells at me from the rooftop and grimaces. I know I shouldn't, but I throw a piece of a sign at him. Lacking strength, I fail to throw the piece sign high enough to hit him. The sign reaches its apex and promptly starts cratering back down. Since I'm still looking up, the piece of the sign also hits me in the eye, like liquid hail.

As I lay there bleeding from the unsightly gash in my dome, I realize that I should have thrown the damn thing harder and further, like natives throwing things about in their native rainforest.

"

 

edit: its

lol

It might be impossible, but WATMM should totally write a novel.

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:21 PM, Gary C said:

It might be impossible, but WATMM should totally write a novel.

pls see 3 word story thread & rethink.

blah blah blah beauty of my soul.

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:23 PM, BCM said:

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:21 PM, Gary C said:

It might be impossible, but WATMM should totally write a novel.

 

pls see 3 word story thread & rethink.

Touché

  On 10/31/2011 at 12:13 AM, The Pod said:

"

It's like I'm walking down some kind of diseased rainforest with the translucent blood of natives raining down on me like liquid hail. Of course it's merely raining in my quaint little hometown, I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. He calls me bud so I smile at him like I smile at the oncoming traffic that I flash a peace sign to as I zoom past them on my bicycle. The cuter girls smile at me while ugly hags and other losers merely grimace. They don't recognize the beauty of my soul.

"

This is a good start though in my experience you need something to hook the reader in as soon as possible. There are some interesting statistics and studies out there on this sort of thing. As i said it's good but there's nothing truly distinctive in there. I'll give an example of what i mean with just a few tweaks to what you have done.

"

It's like I'm walking down some kind of diseased rainforest with the translucent blood of natives cunts raining down on me like liquid hail. Of course it's merely fuckin' raining in my quaint little hometown, I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes sexual harrasment lawsuit. He calls me bud so I smile at him and spin around like I do at the oncoming traffic that I flash a peace sign to as I zoom past them on my porsche. The cuter girls smile at me while ugly fuckin' hags and other losers merely grimace. They don't recognize the interdimensional beauty of my fuckin' soul (cunt).

"

that's some fuckin' raw shit Rambo. straight from the motherfuckin' heart throbbing dick.

My fanny is a-clapping and my coin pouch is a-jostlin'. These 501s feel like a kind of persecution we haven't got a name for yet. My (upper) 10th percentile WASP brain is operating 230 lbs of American beefcake with the gear stick cranked to "strut" though sometimes slipping back into "mince" because of a technical fault that is too difficult to explain, especially to my parents. It's like I'm a test pilot for a highly experimental and extremely sexy stealth bomber, and this small town is my airshow. Catching a glimpse of myself in the Greggs shop window I can't resist running my fingers through my gorgeous mane. Thick at the crown. Thick at the temples. Hairline no more than an inch from my eyebrows. The medicine is working.

Clouds gathered above and I overheard people in the Greggs mention they were surprised how dark it got and say things like "Here comes the rain." I pulled the Ray Bans out of my shirt's tit-pocket and put them on. Five weeks ago I told myself that from now on my eyes weren't going to get wet for anyone. Without warning, besides the sky getting darker, water came from the sky. It struck everyone lucky enough not to be housebound really viciously like they were really close to the wave machine at the local leisure centre *tears paper out of typewriter and puts through shredder*

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:11 PM, iep said:

  On 10/31/2011 at 3:06 PM, Iain C said:

I stop in the gas station to harass the clerk and buy a pack of cigarettes. In 3 years, I'll have his job and will have to deal with precocious little shits day in, day out.

 

that's quite the riveting start, actually <3

© Douglas Coupland, 1991