The Writing Thread

The first site I think of is watt-pad but from what I've heard I'm not so keen being involve with the people there.

Are you young and/or new to writing? I've seen Wattpad and its ilk proposed as genuine places to begin publishing before and I legitimately don't understand why. It's God-awful advice. Any piece of writing on there that isn't a good-girl-bad-boy teen romance dies instantly. And even if it didn't, it can be risky, because there are agents, publishers, and writing contests that won't review work that has been published before--and "published" means everything from Wattpad/AO3 to posts on a personal blog. If it's a piece you care about, that would be a complete waste.

There are contests that specify their rights to your work would be non-exclusive, meaning you can publish it in other places yourself even if you happen to win. But be warned that the main purpose of contests, often, is just to raise money for the journal (since they charge entry fees and many literary journals are losing readership).

If you really just want to get started, then print self-publishing is a different matter. Agents might consider these, especially if the book was well-received (on some query forms, they'll ask how many copies your book sold as a self-pub). Though vanishingly rare, some books can make it quite far this way; a good example is Still Alice. The downside on that end--as compared to digital self-pub--is that it requires 💰.

Ultimately, you want to be in a position where you can call in favours

The networkmaxxing route seems so depressing to me. Even more soul-sucking than just making your work more salable to begin with (which it will have to be, to an extent, anyway).

What would you say your goal is--to be a novelist, poet, or both? You'd have better luck starting with the novel. But get it down from 125K words first.
 
The networkmaxxing route seems so depressing to me. Even more soul-sucking than just making your work more salable to begin with (which it will have to be, to an extent, anyway).
Dunno if I'd call it "network maxxing" -- when it comes to cocksucking, it pays to be a connoisseur.

Hang with people you like and respect. Pay attention to their work, and get *good* at criticism. Elevate their work when you can - not with meaningless, vapid words - but by utilizing your own actual skillset, identifying problems and providing solutions. They are good at (x), you are good at (y): with your powers combined, Captain Planet heroes zeros remember to recycle your condoms blah.

This isn't some self-serving, manipulative BPD bullshit either. If you like and admire someone you will enjoy the process of working with them. You will become a better writer in the process. You will drink nectar with them in the pub afterwards and talk about the next project, the one that will change the fucking world, the one that nevertheless the two of you will never *quite* get around to. Get drunk enough that you forget that this motherfucker owes you money, forgive him for all that fucking bullshit on page 87, and turn down all but the most token compensation.

Rinse. Repeat. Grind that fucking XP.

Don't bother chasing after motherfuckers who have already made it, btw. They ain't doing you any favours. And you will *not* enjoy working for them, because it won't be an equal partnership: your own skillset will be superseded by their ego, you'll end up doing ass-tier cleaning work for a talent already in decline.

In these instances, take the money.

What would you say your goal is--to be a novelist, poet, or both? You'd have better luck starting with the novel. But get it down from 125K words first.

Ah, the text itself is bout 85k - the extra 40k or so is notes I've taken (on Dante's relevance to the text, on correspondence and symbolism, and memos to myself about the cogs of this infernal fucking machine) and shoved into footers on the off-chance they'll be useful. There's more than a thousand notes, because if you're building something complicated from scratch then you'd best label the fucking parts.

As for being a novelist or a poet, well... the number of classical poets who made the jump into prose is vanishingly small. This is because of the aforementioned fucking symbolism / correspondence bullshit, it's an entirely different mindset and skill. Modern poetry (imho) is at it's best when it's short, as an entirely self-contained system, as the purest expression of an idea. Modern fiction (imho) is an exploration of time and space and the seething legions of retarded monkeys who inhabit it.
 
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As for being a novelist or a poet, well... the number of classical poets who made the jump into prose is vanishingly small. This is because of the aforementioned fucking symbolism / correspondence bullshit, it's an entirely different mindset and skill.
Bro that's gay as fuck, you can write whatever you want whenever you want. The distinction between subtypes of written mediums means less than it ever has nowadays because the cultural significance of the act itself has been depreciated to the point where we're all just playing in a sandbox of ashes whenever we write anything in the 21st Century.
 
Bro that's gay as fuck, you can write whatever you want whenever you want. The distinction between subtypes of written mediums means less than it ever has nowadays because the cultural significance of the act itself has been depreciated to the point where we're all just playing in a sandbox of ashes whenever we write anything in the 21st Century.

the number of classical poets who made the jump

number of classical poets

classical poets

classical

Maybe the literature thread isn't the best place for you.
 
Let's see if I can help your comprehension skills.

"As for being a novelist or a poet, well..."
Attempting to answer the question, finishing the thought with an ellipsis. Conclusion: the writer is unsure of his goals. The writer then goes on to state a thesis:

"the number of classical poets who made the jump into prose is vanishingly small."
Statement, objective truth. The writer is attempting to find an answer to the question by making a statement he knows to be true, and using established truth as a jumping off point. Inference: the writer, following on from the ellipsis, implies he is unsure because he considers himself to have more in common with classical writers and reliance on classical technique. The writer continues:

" This is because of the aforementioned fucking symbolism / correspondence bullshit, it's an entirely different mindset and skill."
Statement, truth, subjective. This is what the author believes to be true. "Bullshit" = self-denegation of previous statements, KF ibid. This is indicative of the author's doubt, and his word-choice indicates that - despite his asserted inclination towards the classical - he is in fact a modern man. It is this dichotomy that provides impetuous and drama to his dilemma.

"Modern poetry (imho) is at it's best when it's short, as an entirely self-contained system, as the purest expression of an idea."
Statement, philosophical. The author is musing, and does so in a poetic fashion, and so seems to be answering OPs question with "I am a poet". He then follows with a rueful tonal juxtaposition:

"Modern fiction (imho) is an exploration of time and space and the seething legions of retarded monkeys who inhabit it."
Statement, denigrating of the novel, denigrating of modern attitudes, elevating poetry on face value. And yet, the author must confront the fact that he has *written* a fucking novel: ergo he himself is also a retarded monkey (cf. Wilde, Caliban's mirror). Inference: "I am a poet who has written a novel / I am a novelist who has written poetry." I hope you have enjoyed reading my dissertation on my own fucking post as much as I did writing it.

CONCLUSION: The author doubts that any meaningful distinction between poetry and prose can be made in our modern day setting. The author is therefore unsure why some massively stupid illiterate fuck is taking issue and arguing with him, because they both reached THE SAME FUCKING CONCLUSION.
 
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CONCLUSION: The author doubts that any meaningful distinction between poetry and prose can be made in our modern day setting. The author is therefore unsure why some massively stupid illiterate fuck is taking issue and arguing with him, because they both reached THE SAME FUCKING CONCLUSION.
For a guy who is about being short and to the point you can't seem to do that in your posts...
 
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Let's see if I can help your comprehension skills.

"As for being a novelist or a poet, well..."
Attempting to answer the question, finishing the thought with an ellipsis. Conclusion: the writer is unsure of his goals. The writer then goes on to state a thesis:

"the number of classical poets who made the jump into prose is vanishingly small."
Statement, objective truth. The writer is attempting to find an answer to the question by making a statement he knows to be true, and using established truth as a jumping off point. Inference: the writer, following on from the ellipsis, implies he is unsure because he considers himself to have more in common with classical writers and reliance on classical technique. The writer continues:

" This is because of the aforementioned fucking symbolism / correspondence bullshit, it's an entirely different mindset and skill."
Statement, truth, subjective. This is what the author believes to be true. "Bullshit" = self-denegation of previous statements, KF ibid. This is indicative of the author's doubt, and his word-choice indicates that - despite his asserted inclination towards the classical - he is in fact a modern man. It is this dichotomy that provides impetuous and drama to his dilemma.

"Modern poetry (imho) is at it's best when it's short, as an entirely self-contained system, as the purest expression of an idea."
Statement, philosophical. The author is musing, and does so in a poetic fashion, and so seems to be answering OPs question with "I am a poet". He then follows with a rueful tonal juxtaposition:

"Modern fiction (imho) is an exploration of time and space and the seething legions of retarded monkeys who inhabit it."
Statement, denigrating of the novel, denigrating of modern attitudes, elevating poetry on face value. And yet, the author must confront the fact that he has *written* a fucking novel: ergo he himself is also a retarded monkey (cf. Wilde, Caliban's mirror). Inference: "I am a poet who has written a novel / I am a novelist who has written poetry." I hope you have enjoyed reading my dissertation on my own fucking post as much as I did writing it.

CONCLUSION: The author doubts that any meaningful distinction between poetry and prose can be made in our modern day setting. The author is therefore unsure why some massively stupid illiterate fuck is taking issue and arguing with him, because they both reached THE SAME FUCKING CONCLUSION.
Really adorable stuff, though if this is a representative sample of how you write you'd be better off as an accountant than some would-be successor to James Joyce, who would probably laugh at you.
 
Really adorable stuff, though if this is a representative sample of how you write you'd be better off as an accountant than some would-be successor to James Joyce, who would probably laugh at you.
What, you seriously can't defend yourself or your dumbass opinions, and you've run out of Family Guy quotes, so your go-to response is to... decide a dead irishman wouldn't like me very much?

P.s: You've never even read Joyce. Here's your fucking accountancy.
 
What, you seriously can't defend yourself or your dumbass opinions, and you've run out of Family Guy quotes, so your go-to response is to... decide a dead irishman wouldn't like me very much?

P.s: You've never even read Joyce. Here's your fucking accountancy.
What's there to even "defend" though? I mildly prodded you because you were taking shit way too seriously and you just went even further into a frothing at the mouth autism spiral so I casually poked you again.

And nope, sorry, I've read all of Joyce's books. Even met the guy in person once (trust me bro). He'd definitely laugh at you.
 
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What's there to even "defend" though? I mildly prodded you because you were taking shit way too seriously and you just went even further into a frothing at the mouth autism spiral so I casually poked you again.
This isn't a frothing mouth autism spiral. This is calling you out as stupid. This is me telling you that just because you opened your mouth doesn't make you funny or interesting. This me telling you that your shit is all retarded and you actively make threads worse by posting in them. This is me expressing confusion that someone who clearly knows the square root of Jack and Shit nevertheless feels entitled to interject his mind-numbing retardation into the conversations of his betters. This is your dad telling you to fuck off while the adults are speaking.

And while you are fucking off, ask yourself which is more likely: Are there are people who are having a meltdown because you are Le Epic Troll? Or are there people who are fucking exasperated with your fuckwitted brain aneurisms masquerading as useful or insightful posts?
 
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This isn't a frothing mouth autism spiral. This is calling you out as stupid. This is me telling you that just because you opened your mouth doesn't make you funny or interesting. This me telling you that your shit is all retarded and you actively make threads worse by posting in them. This is me expressing confusion that someone who clearly knows the square root of Jack and Shit nevertheless feels entitled to interject his mind-numbing retardation into the conversations of his betters. This is your dad telling you to fuck off while the adults are speaking.

And while you are fucking off, ask yourself which is more likely: Are there are people who are having a meltdown because you are Le Epic Troll? Or are there people who are fucking exasperated with your fuckwitted brain aneurisms masquerading as useful or insightful posts?
Yes yes, I'm totally convinced that you're Definitely Not Mad at all, junior. Write 60 thousand more words worth of notes in a microsoft word document to yourself about why you won this e-debate. You've earned it!
 
What, you seriously can't defend yourself or your dumbass opinions, and you've run out of Family Guy quotes, so your go-to response is to... decide a dead irishman wouldn't like me very much?

P.s: You've never even read Joyce. Here's your fucking accountancy.
This is you:

 
Any thoughts on smaller/local publishing agencies? No doubt self-publishing as people suggested seems like the best way forward in the long term, I just assume a smaller entity would have more of a vested interest in someone's shit succeeding as to get a bit of an image buff by proxy. Probably too far and few between.
 
Any thoughts on smaller/local publishing agencies? No doubt self-publishing as people suggested seems like the best way forward in the long term, I just assume a smaller entity would have more of a vested interest in someone's shit succeeding as to get a bit of an image buff by proxy. Probably too far and few between.
Not really. 99% of small press are just vanity outfits where a guy formed it to publish his shit and his friends.
 
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