Novel
I've written a novella!
I've accidentally written a novella. Let me explain. I wanted to write a serialised story. Vocal lends itself to this very well with the way that you can publish instantaneously and my idea was to write a seven part story, releasing a new part every day over a week so that there was no delay between chapters and the momentum was always there. It seemed like a good length.
By Rachel Deeming3 months ago in Critique
The Demon Does, Too
The Devil Wears Prada was so successful that the book became a movie, and the movie generated a sequel, now available on Hulu. Yes, Anne Hathaway looked phenomenal in the Chanel boots. But that’s not why we’re here. I read the book, and I saw the first movie (at home, for free). When the sequel becomes free, I may scrutinize it. We’ll see.
By Harper Lewis 3 months ago in Critique
The Golden Mirage
There are certain works that rise above the common landscape of literature and take their place upon a throne built not entirely from artistic achievement, but from the devotion of countless admirers. They become symbols rather than stories, possessing a reputation that grows larger with each passing year until the work itself is hidden beneath the immense shadow of its own praise.
By Tim Carmichael3 months ago in Critique
Why The Great Gatsby Isn't the Masterpiece Everyone Says It Is
Few novels enjoy the level of admiration that The Great Gatsby has earned over the last century. It appears on high school reading lists, college syllabi, and countless lists of the greatest American novels ever written. Critics praise F. Scott Fitzgerald's elegant prose, its unforgettable symbolism, and its exploration of wealth, ambition, and the American Dream. Entire generations of readers have been taught that it is a literary masterpiece.
By Nolan Reed3 months ago in Critique
Hallmark
Not Quite There - The Prompt: Share a story that never fully came together, along with what’s holding it back. Not every piece reaches a finished form. This challenge makes space for work that is still unresolved. Share a story that never quite came together, along with what’s holding it back. The gap might come from structure, clarity, scope, or something harder to define. Be specific about where it falters. What feels incomplete and why has it stayed that way. The focus is as much on the friction as the draft itself.
By Denise E Lindquist4 months ago in Critique
Just a chapter
Chapter One: Escape I tried hard to open my eyes. Still slightly incoherent, I grew frustrated at the blurred partial vision. My contacts wouldn’t adjust, or maybe I didn’t leave them in. Where were my glasses? I groped blindly for them. Since I had left… something. I had problems sleeping since I had left something. I tried to remember what I had left. What problem did I have? What was I looking for, my hand subconsciously feeling the empty space over my right shoulder? I couldn’t seem to remember anything. A second ago I thought I knew who I was, where I was… but it seemed to be slipping away faster than I could bring it to a conscious thought. Had it been a dream? I reached up to rub the sleep from my eyes, only to jerk my hands swiftly away from my face. Startled by the lumpish, wet, thing on my face I screamed. Flinging my head and sitting to attention I tried to dislodge it. Pain rapidly replaced the panic. The sudden motion sent my head spinning, throbbing. My breaths came short and ragged; my chest felt like it was being crushed. I crumpled forward, trying to placate the sharp stabbing in my stomach, maybe trying to stop my intestines from spilling out. It felt as if my torso was a gaping hole. I was aware of every heartbeat… pounding against my body, as if every beat was a hammer blow inside my chest. A wave of nausea forced me to heave, compounding the pain. My nausea worsened as I came to the realization that there was nothing to vomit but a mouthful of bloody acid.
By Maili Paul4 months ago in Critique
Planes, Trains, and Magic?
The world would end in dragon fire. This, Kavik knew for centuries. He breathed heavy, and his lungs drank thirstily of flame instead of oxygen. Elves were heartier than humans, yet his skin burned as sweat spilled from his pores and instantly evaporated.
By Sama Habib4 months ago in Critique
Epically Stalling
There is a story that lives within me that I have longed to tell. It breathes in soft sighs under my skin, echoing in the tips of my fingers. It is the tale of undoing, of unbecoming, of a world that must shatter so that truth, and light can come pouring back in. It is the story that plays with the idea that history is written by the winners, but what if the winners were really the villains?
By Ellie Hoovs4 months ago in Critique
Limbo
Writing is hard. Don't let anybody tell you any different. Granted, some days it's easier than others. There are times when I can open up my laptop, hit that "create story" button and the words literally come pouring out of my fingertips. Other days... well... I think everyone who writes understands that feeling of staring at a blank page. A canvas ready to be filled, but the inkwell of creativity within one's soul has run completely dry.
By Natalie Gray4 months ago in Critique
