/lit/ - Literature

how come they only showed the shooters dad on tv? the fact that his mom is black doesn't fit the narrative of psycho white nerds shooting up schools because they have small dicks?

>>7186068
What the fuck is black anthony fantano doing here

>>7186074

>cal chuchesta isn't anthony fantano

try harder

>>7186068
my girlfriend is pretty chill about it, although after her semester abroad in Ghana she's been on a Chimamanda kick; haven't been able to get to Purple Hibiscus or Americanah yet.

She's very familiar with DFW/Pinecone memes, I was reading GR when we met and she knows the memes.

Aside from her, I find it really difficult to find anyone else to discuss lit with, other than my professors.

Went to a Scribblers meeting on campus for the first time this week and cringed for a full 45 minutes. All rhyme-verse and fantasy novels.

Wish my gamer/sports friends read more...

>>7186082
Show me original work that you have produced.

>>7186082
i want to find a writing group that focuses on art, all the ones near me are the same, fantasy stuff, YA novels, poetry written by people who don't know what meter means

at least we have pumpkin pies tbh

But i am friendless

>>7186068
/soc/

>>7186068
Gnarls Barkley and Anthony Fantano's love child is a fag ? OMFG

I have no friends, only old acquaintances from school with whom I never speak and my work colleagues, who are nice people but with whom I never do anything.

I feel kind of nervous with other people, as if I’m bothering them, or being inconvenient, or making them feel uncomfortable. It’s very strange.

My main relations are with this four people: my father, my mother, my brother and my girlfriend. I also talk a lot with my girlfriend’s mother (she is very nice to me), but other than that I hardly make any social interaction. I also have my aunt and my uncles, but I don’t see them very often.

That’s why I decided to start taking some courses in order to know more people and see new things. I have recently started to take a drawing and painting course, and also a kung-Fu course. I hope I might make some friends on the next months.

>>7186101
sorry for the wait: class & phone interview

Prose piece I wrote a month or two ago:


Even though I knew it was impossible, I thought about what it must be like to be in love with a woman like that. A woman who, for her job, heck, for her life, reads and thinks. And not only reads and thinks but talks about reading and thinking. I remember watching a video of her once speaking at some reading festival, and her saying something like, “I don’t think I’m smart enough to read David...I think I’m probably the dumbest person on this panel.” The way she said it really made me believe it, and I wondered what it would be like to be in love with someone like that, who when you do something really backwards and nasty doesn’t just read you and think about you and what you said and how it was really backwards and nasty, but how she thinks to herself, “He’s probably just smarter than me, everyone is probably smarter than me.” I think I would like someone like that, always thinking that everyone else is smarter than them.

Now I have both my hands over my head, working and working this branch of an Osage tree, the thinner limb in my left hand and a drywall knife in my right hand. Osage trees can really be the damndest things, hard as rock and wet, the knife gets all gummed-up and there’s still a little sawdust coming down into my eyes. I look at the ground to keep the sawdust out of my eyes and she says through my earbuds, “You wonder what happens to that type of love, how it always seems to perfect, but all of the sudden it’s three years later and you get a divorce.” So I guess she’s been divorced. I can sorta tell she tried to keep it together, I think she really did. “All of the sudden it’s three years later and you get a divorce.” She says it that way on purpose, like she must have been married for three years, like it wasn’t a divorce that she wanted, but it was a divorce she got.

I got that Osage branch down finally and left it in the yard to dry, on account of it probably wouldn’t die very soon if I put it under the shade of the deck. I went inside and took a cold shower and got some socks out of the dryer and sent an email to a classmate I went to dinner with a week or two ago, she writes poems too. I lent her a copy of a Kafka short story and I told her to tell me what she thinks of it and I sent her a poem about being an oilman for the summer and how I feel like we rape the earth in a very official sort of way. She hasn’t responded yet, so I sent her a message and said, “I’m sorry if the language of my poem offended you,” and then later another one that said, “But I stand by my artistic choices.”

>>7186555
>first person