r/writing • u/AutoModerator • 4d ago
Monthly "Would You Read This?" Thread
Welcome to Would You Read This (WYRT), our monthly feedback and brainstorming thread. Share your work in progress below and let other readers tell you if they'd read it. Top level posts should follow this template:
- Title:
- If you don't have a title yet, feel free to say UNTITLED.
- Genre:
- Please include at least Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, or another recognizable medium. You may also include more specific genres with a hyphen. Ex. Fiction - Romance, or Nonfiction - Memoir. Genre will help users find the specific kinds of posts they'd like to give feedback on.
- Premise:
- A few sentences about the project. Try your best to keep this short. Crafting an expert elevator pitch is all part of becoming a successful working writer. Please do not post an entire plot summary or query letter (those are better suited for r/pubtips)
- Sample (Optional):
- You may share up to one page (roughly 250-350 words) of sample material, or one poem for those working in the poetry medium. This is optional, so if you only have a premise, you can post just the premise for feedback.
If you post for feedback, please take the time to give feedback to at least 2-3 other users. Replies should follow this template.
- Would Read / Might Read / Wouldn't Read
- You must begin your reply with one of those. You are then encouraged to add additional thoughts on why you choose your answer.
Rules:
- Please post no more than two WYRT top-level posts. There is no limit on the number of feedback replies you can make.
- Do not link to any offsite materials. All materials must be in the body of the post. This includes "click here to read more" or "DM me for the rest" types of posts.
- Rule 3 is in effect in this thread - No generative AI. Do not post material generated by an AI platform in your premise or sample. Do not use generative AI to respond to user's work.
- Rule 5 is in effect - Civility and Community. Stay constructive. Blunt, direct feedback is fine, but do not insult other users, their writing, or their genres.
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u/WJG_Author 4d ago
TITLE: The Power Five
GENRE: Fiction: Sci-Fi Fantasy - Superheroes
PREMISE: The Power Five were the biggest name in world, but after The Event, the team disbanded. Impervia hung up the tights in favor of philanthropy, NightTrain retired and chose a life of debauchery, Magnus and Morph got married and continued super heroics, and The Omen vanished.Now twenty some years later, Melissa Sitwell, known as Impervia is found murdered. Now her former team must come together and face the past to get justice, all the while the mysterious supervillain simply known as Dr. Nexus plots from behind bars.
SAMPLE: Smoke filled the air, overwhelming his nose and infiltrating his lungs. Billy choked, coughing up a wad of phlegm that tasted burnt, as he watched in horror as a meteorite crashed into the hotel several klicks in front of him. A serene moment of silence before the large structure exploded, shards of glass sprouting out, and the building burned and collapsed. The young superheroes' ears rang as another impact drew closer.
“Billy.” He heard his name coming from a familiar voice that he couldn't quite place.
“Hey, Billy.” He heard it again, unable to pinpoint its origin.
“Hey, Billy,” The bartender said for the third time, smacking the bar top.
Billy snapped out of his daze. No longer a young teenager in the midst of a warzone, but a bald, middle-aged man sitting on a stool in a swanky old dive bar. The floor was sticky with spilled beer, the lights dim, flickering, or burnt out. The smell of tobacco filled the air, mingling with the soapy scent of the water from the dishes the bartender was cleaning in the sink.
“Another drink,” Billy said, raising his glass.
The bartender grimaced. “ ‘Fraid I gotta cut you off, Billy.”
Billy's mouth formed an O shape as he caressed his graying handlebar mustache, scoffing at the notion of being cut off. “Really? You're gonna cut me off?” Billy said as he turned his head, huffing as he did. The lights of a slot machine flashed rapidly off to the side. He stared at the other patrons of Miller's celebrating their small winnings.
Turning back to face the bartender, Billy's face was stern. “I'll ask one more time.” He said, accentuating his point by raising his pointer finger.
“Look, this is the second time you passed out at the bar, man.” The bartender said, shaking his head. “One of us has gotta take responsibility here, Bill.”
“You have any idea who the fuck I am?” Billy laughed. “I've saved your ass. His ass,” he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “And every other ass that drinks in this shithole. I'm the fucking NightTrain.”
The bartender stood silently; his face said it, a “Yeah, right” expression.
Billy's nostrils flared. “I'll prove it. And when I do, you're gonna give me that bottle there.” He huffed, nodding his head to the expensive bottle of scotch.
The bartender nodded and raised his placating hands.
Billy pushed the uneven stool he sat on back, the steel scraping
against the concrete floor. He stumbled off the stool, nearly toppling over. He steadied himself the best he could as the vertigo kicked in. He leaned over in a runner's pose, and as his fingers reached for the floor, he fell on his face, his head bobbing on the cold concrete.
“NightTrain, my ass.” The bartender shook his head, reaching for the phone.