Webnovel Feedback Roasts For the Fearless

Tempokai

Overworked One
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Nov 16, 2021
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I don't want to bother you again , but i really could use your help with this one , the genre is not popular so i think i might never get an interaction or a roast through the natural order of the universe. thus please do your worst, you can skip me ofc you already gave me one feedback to a story I deleted for good out of embarrassement, and I'm grateful
I read three chapters, and frankly, technical writing wise, it's better. But it's so tiresome that I read first chapter yesterday and two of them today. It still feels like you're experimenting. Which is good for you, I suppose, but don't expect any accolades or engagement. Especially with again, lack of tags and synopsis that reads like it time travelled from the 1990s, skipping all the context that lead to 2025 in the genre you're currently writing.

The detective genre peaked in 2000s, and nowadays is dead aside from the cable TVs and those obscure sites for mystery webnovels (you know the place), not SH, the Vegas of Webnovel Realm. Sure, everything goes, but that doesn't correlate to the engagement. The webnovel has all the cliches the casual reader of detective stories will feel without even reading the full sentence of yours.

The previous roast still applies here, with 1) cliche, 2) lack of emotional engagement, 3) superficial intent, aka lack of persuasion. As I said, learn basics of storytelling, find someone IRL who will teach you basics, and if you want to, read my anti-guides that are below in my signature. I don't have energy to roast properly today, so it is what it is.
 

Daydreamers

ⴼⵓⴰⴷ ⵃⴰⵊⴰⵣⵉ
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I read three chapters, and frankly, technical writing wise, it's better. But it's so tiresome that I read first chapter yesterday and two of them today. It still feels like you're experimenting. Which is good for you, I suppose, but don't expect any accolades or engagement. Especially with again, lack of tags and synopsis that reads like it time travelled from the 1990s, skipping all the context that lead to 2025 in the genre you're currently writing.

The detective genre peaked in 2000s, and nowadays is dead aside from the cable TVs and those obscure sites for mystery webnovels (you know the place), not SH, the Vegas of Webnovel Realm. Sure, everything goes, but that doesn't correlate to the engagement. The webnovel has all the cliches the casual reader of detective stories will feel without even reading the full sentence of yours.

The previous roast still applies here, with 1) cliche, 2) lack of emotional engagement, 3) superficial intent, aka lack of persuasion. As I said, learn basics of storytelling, find someone IRL who will teach you basics, and if you want to, read my anti-guides that are below in my signature. I don't have energy to roast properly today, so it is what it is.
thank you for giving it time, I'll go read your anti-guides
 

Unit_301

New member
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Jan 21, 2025
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3

I'd like some feedback on this story of mine. I'm doing a daily release of (~3k word average per chapter) so every day at 7 AM Eastern Standard Time there'll be a new chapter.

Could I also trouble you for another roast after my first Arc is completed?
 

Paul_Tromba

Sleep deprived mess of a published author
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Jan 29, 2020
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Alright, buckle up, Paul—this is going to be a ride. I’ve trudged through your opening gambit, from the synopsis to Chapter 1, Part 2, and now I’m here, dripping with sweat because I'm procrastinating while an important banner needs to be printed, armed with a misplaced focus sharper than Lou’s apparent lack of survival instincts. Since time is short and procrastination isn’t on my side today (unlike you, who clearly found the time to drown me in wandering prose), I’m limiting this roast to what I’ve read. Consider this your intervention.

First, let’s talk about your synopsis. You’ve got a story with supernatural time travel, mysterious peacekeepers, and a protagonist named Lou Barrett—an everyman thrust into chaos. That’s already a concept with legs. But instead of giving it the sleek, compelling elevator pitch it deserves, your synopsis stumbles around with vague buzzwords and tired tropes like a Victorian drunk trying to find his hat. “Accidental time traveler”? Come on. That’s a descriptor we’ve all read a thousand times before, in 2000s at least. And who are these “supernatural peacekeepers”? Right now, they sound like ghostly mall cops. You need to stop hiding behind vagueness and deliver the goods.

Here’s the issue: a synopsis is supposed to sell your story. Right now, it feels like a placeholder text you scribbled down because “it’s just a synopsis; the story will sell itself.” It won’t. Give us specifics. Hook us with something unique about your story, not tired descriptions like “scattered mythological undertones.” Show us why your supernatural time travel tale is different from every other accidental hero story clogging the genre. And maybe—just maybe—give Lou a glimmer of personality in the synopsis. Right now, he’s just a faceless, unlucky bloke getting yanked around by time and fate.

Moving on to your prologue, because boy oh boy does this need some love. I’ll start with the good news: you’ve got atmosphere. The imagery of space, the disembodied voices, the infinite selves—it’s all creepy, surreal, and perfectly set up for a story dripping in existential dread. But that’s where the praise ends. You’re setting up a tone here, yes, but your execution is like trying to build a gothic cathedral out of marshmallows.

Let’s address your so-called antagonists. These spectres or time gods or whatever they are—the ones who are “bored” and “choosing a lucky bastard to wield their power”—come across like petulant children playing with action figures. They have no gravitas, no menace, no depth. Their dialogue sounds like someone trying to write cosmic beings but forgetting that these entities are supposed to make readers tremble with awe, not cringe. If these are the entities that kick off your story, they need to command attention. Right now, they’re undercutting their own role as harbingers of chaos.

And because these spectres lack ethos or gravitas, the entire prologue’s emotional weight collapses like a cheap IKEA shelf. Logos—the logic of this scene—is a dreamlike jumble, which could work if the emotional core (pathos) was solid. But Lou doesn’t react. He doesn’t question. He’s just there, standing passively as strange things happen to him. You can’t leave your protagonist—or your readers—adrift in surreal nonsense without some emotional anchor. It doesn’t need to be realism, but it does need something. Fear. Awe. Confusion. Anything but this detached monotone.

And let’s not ignore how rushed and overloaded this prologue feels. You’re throwing in mask creatures, infinite mirrors, river-haired children, and godlike beings in one go. These concepts are interesting, sure, but they’re competing for attention like toddlers in a ball pit. Slow down. Give us one or two focal points and let us soak in the horror and mystery before moving on to the next big idea. Make the prologue longer in words.

To be clear, the prologue isn’t bad—it’s just underperforming. It’s like a piano with a few keys out of tune: it has potential, but playing it as-is makes everyone wince. Rewrite it. Give your antagonists some gravitas. Let Lou feel something—anything—about his infinite selves and the surreal horror around him. Tighten the pacing, and for the love of all things literary, stop treating this like a checklist of “cool ideas.” Pick your moments and let them shine.

Now, Chapter 1, where things start to really wobble, even though the foundation is solid. Part 1 shows you’re capable of balancing ethos, logos, and pathos. You’ve painted a vivid picture of London, old and new, and the details are rich enough to immerse readers in Lou’s fish-out-of-water predicament. But here’s the problem: you’ve overcorrected. Every corner, every smell, every brick gets a description so thorough that it feels like you’re auditioning to write the London chapter of a travel guide. The pacing suffers immensely.

Look, you’re playing with realism, and that’s fine. Readers love immersive settings. But you’re not writing historical nonfiction—you’re writing a supernatural webnovel. Readers don’t need to know every nook and cranny of Whitechapel, they just need enough detail to conjure the illusion of realism. The rest? Let their imaginations fill in the blanks. Right now, your descriptions are padding the story, drowning the tension and forward momentum in sensory overload.

And then there’s Lou himself. While his bewilderment is understandable—it’s not every day you wake up in 1888—his reactions are so muted that it flattens the pathos. He’s bewildered, sure, but that’s it? No fear? No frustration? No sense of grief at the life he’s left behind or anger at the universe for doing this to him? Lou feels more like a neutral narrator than someone experiencing an existential crisis. And while I understand he’s meant to be a bit “unfazed,” it’s overdone to the point that it undercuts the emotional weight of the story.

Then there’s Chapter 1 – Part 2, where you veer into the realm of controlled chaos—and lose control entirely by the latter half. Things happen so quickly, and in such rapid succession, that neither Lou nor the reader has time to process anything. Burning coins, a vicious fight, mysterious dusting deaths, Ponytail Martial Arts Man dropping in from the roof, and Lou getting arrested—all crammed into a single sequence that feels like a frantic sprint.

Here’s the thing about chaos: it only works if it’s paced properly. Each chaotic moment needs room to breathe, both for Lou to react and for the readers to absorb the stakes. Instead, everything collides together in a way that feels overwhelming, not engaging. The supernatural dread you’re trying to build—burning coins, inexplicable deaths—needs to sink in. Lou’s disbelief, fear, or even curiosity should anchor these moments. Instead, the focus shifts to environment and action, leaving Lou’s emotional flatness to drag the scene down.

The pacing issues from Part 1 carry over here, but they’re exacerbated by the relentless bombardment of events. Without separation between these chaotic moments, the story feels rushed. Each key event—the woman’s attack, the supernatural properties of the coins, the fight, Ponytail Man’s deus ex martial-arts arrival—needs to stand on its own, with clear transitions between them. The moments should influence each other naturally, but they’re competing for attention right now, and it’s a mess.

On the technical side, the overall pacing of these chapters needs a lot of work. Both Part 1 and Part 2 linger too long on setting details and environmental descriptions while rushing through the emotional beats. Lou’s emotional flatness only makes this more apparent—because instead of focusing on his fear, confusion, or frustration, you’re describing cobblestones, fog, and smog for the third time. This isn’t about cutting out atmosphere entirely—it’s about prioritizing. What matters more: Lou grappling with his circumstances, or another reminder that London smells bad?

What does this story need to fix its opening? Tightened prose, clearer emotional stakes, and better pacing. For Part 1, trim the descriptions down to what’s necessary to establish the tone and immerse the reader. Let Lou react to his predicament in a way that deepens the emotional connection between him and the audience. For Part 2, break the chaos into digestible segments. Separate the burning coins from the brawl, the brawl from Ponytail Man’s entrance, and Ponytail Man from the cops. Between each chaotic event, give Lou (and the reader) a moment to breathe, reflect, and process what’s happening. Let the dread and mystery of the supernatural sink in before slamming into the next big moment.

To wrap this roast: you’ve got the bones of an intriguing webnovel opening, but right now it’s buried under layers of unfocused chaos, overdone descriptions, and a protagonist who seems to have replaced emotional depth with a shrug. It’s not a lost cause, far from it. The plot is great. But unless you’re ready to tighten your prose, reign in the chaos, and make Lou feel something, it’s going to be a slog for your readers. Fix this, and you’ll have a webnovel worth coming back to. Don’t, and it’ll be just another story that loses readers before the real adventure even begins.
Alright, I've rewritten the prologue and wanted to know your thoughts on whether I'm heading in the right direction.
“Well, that was boring,” a disinterested voice bemoaned from the emptiness of space, sounding as if two beings were speaking in tandem. Amidst the nothingness around, the faint light from stars glimmered in the distance. Yet, the voice remained; Cold and distant, yet still alive, like a spectre of inconsistencies that shared a common purpose. Looking at the earth, the voice sifted the clamoring souls below till one of the many through the ages humankind lay barren and alone, chosen as the last by measure of chance.

“I wonder how this person will change the earth this time around? ” the spectre-like being inquired in anticipation and curiosity, gazing upon a human soul. The being's tandem tone of devilish intrigue and a satirical simper made form in its expression of a sadistic humanoid smirk where the voice had previously bemoaned. “The last one barely had the others intrigue, let alone enough interest for one to intervene,” the voice continued, forming from its tongue, a human-like form; The form of a mischievous yet blameless child with vibrant hair extending beyond its feet, dressing itself in a white cloth sheet similar to that of an ancient Greek chiton. Lacking the features to define it as a man or a woman, to all mortals it was simply a being that looked human.

“Really? Is this really how he subconsciously thinks we look?" the being said, looking over the perceived body it had formed. Holding its hand to the cosmos, starlight could be seen through the palm more beautifully than with the keenest of eyes. Satisfied and unbothered, a sinister grin formed before it decreed amongst the stars, "be it in present or past, Lou Barrett, be chosen for my purposes, to freely do with my power as he wishes, till rejection of this gift or death, it shall remain.”

***

There was a dream. To say it felt more like a nightmare would not be an exaggeration. Though the scenery, a vast forest filled with floating lights filling the emptiness, alone sat a person with their back turned to me. A thick dark cloth, frayed and worn, rested atop their scraggly form. As I ventured toward them, my view of their hands, veiled in a purplish-black smoke, showed a crudely weathered longsword, being patiently sharpened with a wet stone. Hearing the snap of twigs and brushing of leaves from my feet, the figure turned it's head toward me, it's face hidden behind an expressionless white mask with a single black stripe running from the upper left corner to the bottom right. Locking eyes with the ironically eyeless mask, it formed an inhumanly wide smile, as if it were made of clay. Opening to unveil a row of jagged, broken teeth behind its lips, gnashing in agonizing rhythms like that of hundred of broken clocks ticking out of time, I couldn’t help but back away. Standing to face me, the cloth covering draped over it like a mourning shawl, and like the mouth, eye holes formed as curved slits of glee, crying from them fresh streams of crimson tears.

My breath became visible as chills of fear ran up my spine, telling me to run. I was already turned around, dashing through the stationary lights of the forest for what felt like all I could muster before I considered to look back and see whether I was being pursued. Gazing back over my shoulder, the forest began folding outward to reveal the night sky, filled with more stars than the mind can comprehend. Amid the stars approached not the masked figure of smoke but rather, a human half my size, draped in a plain white short-cut Greek-style chiton. Flashing a smile behind a raised finger, their gold and grey hair, flowing like a river between the chiton sheets creases, lifted towards the heavens. My attention drawn up to follow it, I stumble back in bafflement from the sudden replacement for the child being myself, standing in aloof confusion by the sight of me.

Straightening himself up as I usually would to seem more confident, the other me asked, “Who are you?” his voice just as curious as I was. Looking down at the ground, which had previously been dirt, now reflected a face that was not my own upon a mirror-like surface of water. Unlike my doppelganger, who bore a wider face, short dirty blond hair, and sunken eyes, I had a slimmer face with short grey hair. Taking it in, I shook my head.

“I do not know," I replied, lifting my head. "Who are you?” I asked for I truly did not know who I was in this moment.

“I am you, Lou Barrett, as are each one of them,” the other me answered, gesturing around him to reveal an infinite number of the grey-haired me, scattered as if copied by a mirror illusion. Turning their faces toward me, each bearing different expressions and emotions from sullen to overjoyed, fearful to fortunate, each sank into the water beneath them in shock.

“Tell me, what is this place? Who were those people I saw?” I begged of the one before me, trying to reach toward him. Though my body was unable to move closer nor further from him, trapped in place by the waters reflecting this new me.

Before I could question further, he answered, “you are what you are, and this place is you. As for those beings, well, I cannot say.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, confused.

“You will find the answer when you succeed,” he replied as if he’d said it a thousand times before and were tired of it before falling through the water floor. Looking down at where he had stood, the water below me gave way, and I fell with a loud thump onto my back. My head was pounding, I felt physically drained, and my back hurt slightly worse than normal. In the distance, I saw a bright light, only to realize that I was just opening my eyes.

The one you already read:
 

ShrimpShady

Well-known member
Joined
Jan 2, 2019
Messages
176
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103
*I fixed the first section of the first chapter to the best of my ability. But I can only do so much*


Labored breaths. Scratches littered his dust covered face. His eyes were like blood ruby. Unkempt long white hair slid to his waist. Radiant green enclosed the cube. A scorched earth and warm sweat mix entered with the draft from openings above. Lucas inhaled cold air. Rolls of sweat dropped from his chin to the rocks. He heightened his senses to shape his mana as he scrutinized his opponent, a tall boy of sturdy build, with narrowed eyes.

Lucas glanced at the barrier which encased their heated bout. Its surface rippled against the constant wind from Tempokai’s relentless strikes. He shut his eyes. Mana coursed. It filled his lungs and solidified his muscles. Then, a radiant white light erupted from his cock to encase him in light.

A snort reached his ears. Tempokai was an idiot and liked to snort at shit. Earth shattered as the air whistled. Lucas knew he’d win.

Morning art: Shroud AMOOOOOOGUS

Tempokai knew he done fucked up but he was committed. He made a retard shit face in the split second it took for him to almost reach his fist inches from Lucas’s face. A sudden burst of hot white light enveloped his fist, the swallowed him with its radiance. It burned. Skin blistered. Tempokai blacked out due to the sheer power of the cringe.

The mana light disintegrated into beads, then faded.

Lucas released his minty breath and slowly opened his eyes. How does someone fucking slowly open their eyes? This man had talent. Tempokai’s robes were charred and jagged on the side where his right arm and torso were blotted with red blisters.

“Oh shit, I over did it again,” Lucas whispered to himself.

He bobbled on over like wobbling weeble on aching legs. He winced because his back hurt when he rolled Tempokai’s fat ass over and stared with scrunchy brow. Tempokai got dusty again. Blistered skin, parts of seared flesh and the smoke of forbidden powder, probably cocaine, filled the air.

“God’s forsake me! Why am I such a fucking idiot!? Tempokai is my friend!”

An entire paragraph of utter garbage pounded in his head.

Get yourself up, Luke! You got yourself here, and now you must help Tempokai. He forced the light into his eyes, forced himself to smell the scorched earth and taste the receding bile in his throat.

He laid his eyes on Tempokai with clenched ass cheeks. The crispy boy draped over Lucas’s battered shoulder with difficulty. The beefy boy ate too much pizza, so Lucas heaved while staggering to a shaky balance.

He didn’t dare think more. Any more repetitive internal monologue would further drain his editor’s sanity. Lucas lumbered through the green barrier. It rippled at his passage as he pissed himself.

The quick but momentary wetness cooled his beating heart and slowed his rushing mind. Having relieved himself, he could forget and focus. Time to get their fat asses to the infirmary. Gretchen was going to be as pissed as his pants.
This is kinda uncalled-for and mean-spirited in a way that isn't funny. It's fucked up to take someone else's work and appropriate it to have fun at their expense, regardless of what you think of its quality. This may be a roast thread (not yours, by the way), but this is a line that shouldn't be crossed.

I know we're all faceless entities on the internet, so our personality defects have room to manifest without consequence, but come on man.
 

JayMark80

It's Not Easy Being Nobody, But Somebody Has To.
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This is kinda uncalled-for and mean-spirited in a way that isn't funny. It's fucked up to take someone else's work and appropriate it to have fun at their expense, regardless of what you think of its quality. This may be a roast thread (not yours, by the way), but this is a line that shouldn't be crossed.

I know we're all faceless entities on the internet, so our personality defects have room to manifest without consequence, but come on man.
In my defense, I actually took an hour of my time to work with the prose to make it flow better and remove repetition because the first chapter had potential. The jokes are easily removed. That's free editing.

But, as it was unsolicited and not in my thread, if the owner of the story wants me to replace the post with an apology, I will do so.
 

ShrimpShady

Well-known member
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Messages
176
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In my defense, I actually took an hour of my time to work with the prose to make it flow better and remove repetition because the first chapter had potential. The jokes are easily removed. That's free editing.

But, as it was unsolicited and not in my thread, if the owner of the story wants me to replace the post with an apology, I will do so.
Imagine you overhear someone thinking about renovating their house. They call up one of their architect friends for their honest opinion, but you decide you want to take matters into your own hands, so you follow them home. Upon staring at their house, you realize that it really just isn't good enough for your liking. In your infinite magnanimity and boundless wisdom, you pick up a bucket of paint and a brush and you go to making big red penises on their walls. Oh, but don't worry, you spent your precious time on it and even though you might've painted penises on a stranger's walls, you also changed their windows.

I don't think there is a defense for this, no "free editing".

And even if the author's completely fine with all of that, you still might want to reassess how you approach commenting on other people's work. Even if it's in a "roast" thread.
 

JayMark80

It's Not Easy Being Nobody, But Somebody Has To.
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Jul 31, 2024
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488
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Imagine you overhear someone thinking about renovating their house. They call up one of their architect friends for their honest opinion, but you decide you want to take matters into your own hands, so you follow them home. Upon staring at their house, you realize that it really just isn't good enough for your liking. In your infinite magnanimity and boundless wisdom, you pick up a bucket of paint and a brush and you go to making big red penises on their walls. Oh, but don't worry, you spent your precious time on it and even though you might've painted penises on a stranger's walls, you also changed their windows.

I don't think there is a defense for this, no "free editing".

And even if the author's completely fine with all of that, you still might want to reassess how you approach commenting on other people's work. Even if it's in a "roast" thread.
Your hyperbolic house analogy makes no sense. What's next? Did I murder their first born child?
It's no valid comparison.
I've made an offer in good faith so take your crusade elsewhere.
 

laumy

stone mirror
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Dec 2, 2024
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Your hyperbolic house analogy makes no sense. What's next? Did I murder their first born child?
It's no valid comparison.
I've made an offer in good faith so take your crusade elsewhere.
It's kind of like in the art communities. Someone shares their drawing, regardless if they asked for comments or not, then another comes up after, telling everyone how they fixed the art. Many people consider it rude.
 

JayMark80

It's Not Easy Being Nobody, But Somebody Has To.
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It's kind of like in the art communities. Someone shares their drawing, regardless if they asked for comments or not, then another comes up after, telling everyone how they fixed the art. Many people consider it rude.
I'll take that as a lesson learned and won't repeat the same behavior.
 

ShrimpShady

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Messages
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Back to Reddit with you. The owner of the story like reacted @JayMark80's joke.
Last I'll say on the matter as I didn't think there'd be this much discourse and I don't want to pollute this thread further.

If "you shouldn't appropriate parts of someone's story to make a joke at their expense, especially unsolicited, even if you think you're making improvements" is anything but a reasonable and sound statement to you, I don't know what to say. Sure, the author gave a like react. The author also deleted the story. What does that mean? I don't know. I'm not reading into that because that's not the point that I'm making. I'm saying it's a lame thing to do regardless.

If you moral police people on the internet then you're obnoxious btw. Just saying.
Obnoxious? Glad to know I'm now a fully-fledged member of the community. Maybe I was a tad sanctimonious, but it's just something that ticked me off.
 

anonjohn20

Pen holding member
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make a joke at their expense, especially unsolicited
What exactly do you think happens at roasting threads? Did someone point a gun at the author and force him to interact?

Obnoxious? Glad to know I'm now a fully-fledged member of the community. Maybe I was a tad sanctimonious, but it's just something that ticked me off.
You're a professional victim. No worries, the people doing "inexcusable" things will move on and you'll be stuck looking for something else to be mad about
 

JayMark80

It's Not Easy Being Nobody, But Somebody Has To.
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I was avoiding this because of my fragile ego. But I also stepped into it myself. This is the last offer of penance I can make so that I'm not as much of a hypocrite. I'll put up all of my writing for the roast, and anyone who wants to mock, throw tomatos, jest, or otherwise destroy me is welcome to. Hopefully the previous abuse will have toughened me up enough to take it. If you want, we can make a seperate thread for it.

I have nothing else to put on the table.
 

anonjohn20

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I was avoiding this because of my fragile ego. But I also stepped into it myself. This is the last offer of penance I can make so that I'm not as much of a hypocrite. I'll put up all of my writing for the roast, and anyone who wants to mock, throw tomatos, jest, or otherwise destroy me is welcome to. Hopefully the previous abuse will have toughened me up enough to take it. If you want, we can make a seperate thread for it.

I have nothing else to put on the table.
Me when I notice that Jay has stories...
grinch.png


Me afterwards when I realize none of them have smut...
starving.png

LOL JK
 

Tempokai

Overworked One
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Nov 16, 2021
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Wrote my first two chapters, ever. Some critique would be nice before I dump more time into this, but I'm probably going to do that anyways, so I might as well get some feebvback, if you are willing :)

From the get-go, this webnovel was waving more red flags than a typical NTR smut webnovel, practically begging for someone to call it out. I read two chapters—or rather, one chapter and its barely-functioning sequel—and I can confidently say this: you’ve managed to transform the act of reading into an exercise in frustration. Amateur mistakes are not just in this story, they occupied it, made revolution and created a commune that is destined to crumble by chapter 2.

Imagine you’re building a house. You’ve got all the blueprints, tools, and techniques to make anything you want. A cozy cottage, a sleek modern home, heck, even a cozy treehouse that every teenager wanted in 2000s. And instead of at least aiming for something functional, you slap together a 2x4 dirt house from Minecraft. That’s exactly how it feels reading this webnovel. Not just a dirt house, mind you—one with the entrance blocked off so nobody can even try to enjoy it. Bold strategy Cotton, but it didn’t pay off.

I'll start with that synopsis, oh, what a disasterpiece. First, no tags. Zero, null, nada. It’s like you actively hate the idea of anyone knowing what your story is about or being able to find it through a search. Then, we have the cherry on this unsavory sundae: you ended the synopsis with a rhetorical question. A rhetorical question. Why? Did you genuinely think this was clever? Did you think readers would slap the table and say, “Oh, I simply must find out why Mark is here!” No. You’re the storyteller, a worldmaker and a persuader,—it’s your job to clarify, not leave readers guessing. And as for persuasion—the trifecta of ethos, logos, and pathos—none of it made the cut. The synopsis is a bland, flavorless appetizer that somehow manages to prepare you perfectly for the equally bland main course.

Then comes Chapter 1 (and 2 afterwards that I didn't want to finish), a modest 1.5k words long, and yet it somehow manages to transform those red flags from the synopsis into a full-blown bonfire. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and oh boy, was this first chapter ablaze with problems. Sure, Chapter 1 is functional, but the time skip invalidates all of that. Did you genuinely think skipping a year of character development was a compelling move? That you could just throw Mark into a new world, give us a taste of panic, and then jump straight to him being a complacent wood-chopping NPC with zero emotional growth? Time skips are meant to enhance a story, not bypass all the parts where the actual story should have happened. If you have started the story with MC saying that he's been already a year here, and adventure (or something like that) happened at this time, I would've not pointed this thing out. Too bad chapter 2 is exhausting even if I take it as "real opening" of your webnovel.

One flaw that irritated me afterwards is a narrator head-hopping from perspective to perspective like it’s auditioning for particularly forgettable circus. Were you trying to create a unique narrative style? If so, congratulations—you’ve successfully created confusion. One moment, we’re inside Mark’s head; the next, we’re being fed information by some vague, omniscient entity that can’t decide if it wants to narrate or editorialize. I guess you don't have storytelling experience, and it shows through those unwitting cracks in the story.

Now, the main character. Mark. Oh, Mark. You’ve somehow made a protagonist so boring, so lifeless, that I actively swapped his name with "Puppet". He has no agency, no personality, no drive. He’s a mannequin that is inanimate in the world of animated mannequin, drifting through a world you’ve barely bothered to flesh out. Did you think this would make him relatable? That readers would project their own feelings onto this blank slate? Sorry, but no one wants to project themselves onto a soggy piece of cardboard.

And the writing itself? A clunky mess of telling over showing, riddled with awkward sentences and pacing that drags like mopping a floor that I did before writing this roast. You know what’s worse than filler? Filler that pretends it’s meaningful. Mark eats bread, chops wood, walks to the library, pays a fee—and somehow, it’s all written like these are monumental, story-defining moments. They’re not. They’re tedious chores that actively repel the reader and me who just did that.

What’s most baffling, though, is that despite all of this, you had the audacity to block off the one entrance that could’ve made your dirt house bearable. Instead of building a gateway for readers—an engaging opening, an interesting protagonist, a clear sense of stakes—you’ve shoved dirt into that entrance and hidden inside. Why? To protect your ego? To avoid the monsters—sorry, readers—who might’ve dared to critique you? Well, guess what? I only found you because you posted your link in this thread. And this story, much like your dirt house, isn’t keeping anyone out. It’s just keeping the light from getting in.

Take this as your wake-up call: if you’re going to build something, don’t half-ass it. Commit to the craft, put in the effort, and for the love of all things literary, stop making dirt houses.
 
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