Don’t Ever Write a Novel
It’s a bad idea. Don’t waste your your time. No one is going to read it because you’ll never finish writing it.
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Don’t ever write a novel. It’s stupid in this day and age. The novel is dead. No one is going to read it even if you give it away for free. People only read books written by celebrities. I’m a nobody and even if I finish I’ll be a nobody who wrote a book no one will read. I mean, who the hell am I to think I can hold someone’s attention for 350 pages?
People today can’t read five consecutive sentences without a paragraph break. Most of you won’t even make it through this story. You think anyone is going to make it through a book full of your bullshit?
Yes! Fuck you you voice of nagging doubt that’s probably a manifestation of my mother! I can do this! The problem is I’m encroaching into Chinese Democracy territory with the amount of time it’s taking me to finish this fucking 350 page monstrosity with 50 twists and turns and double crosses and swerves and Let’s see who this cocksucker in the mask is bullshit.
I can tell you how now not to write a novel. Don’t bother writing anything until your entire story is mapped out. I had 20 pages written before I realized I didn’t need to start the story that far back in the time line. The less time the story takes place during the better.
Is this story worthy of novel length or is it a twenty page short story that I’m stretching so thin it loses it’s magic? Is what I’m writing any good? Will I ever finish writing this cross that must bear? Am I wasting my time with this writing crap? I could just go back to DevOps…
There’s a chance I’m writing a literary classic here.
But odds are its just a three hundred and fifty page shitpost for the world to ignore. Much like this article is destined to be received in this site full of other assholes that fancy themselves writers.
Word count matters when writing a novel. 90k is the goal. Put the right letters together and make a better day…
I don’t have two nickles to rub together let alone enough money to buy weed. How am I supposed to world build sober? Fuck, I should’ve just written that My Gay Son horseshit Fatherly wanted to pay me a Benjamin for. In this reality there’s Tik-Tok millionaires. It’s easy! Just be young, white, and scantly clad. Now dance and hurt yourself!
I hate writing shit. It is so stupid. My fingers dance across my Cherry Blacks like a Hooters bartender jumps up on the bar to do the dance they all must do for Sia’s Titanium. It’s Pavlovian at this point. Cherry blacks require a little more pressure than a normal membrane keyboard. Like a trapped turd.
Which is what I’m afraid I’m sitting on. A big, fat, impacted 350 page shitpost.
