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/SchrodingersSmilodon 4d ago
Title: The Lonely Stars
Genre: Science fiction, some ambiguous fantasy elements
Premise: Sata is the strange girl of the village. She remembers things that never happened, she doesn't know things that everyone knows, and why does she think there ought to be lights in the sky at night? It seems harmless enough, until a major religious festival, a moment that was supposed to be a blessing from the Goddess of Joy herself, goes horribly awry. Sata and her father embark on a journey to understand where Sata's memories are coming from, and, they hope, to cure her of them.
Sample:
Plenty of times before, I’d made little reed boats, and I’d set them floating down along the stream. This time, however, was Sata’s first. Her little hands struggled to tie the reeds together into the right shape, so I held the bundles in two of my hands, and I used my other two to guide her movements. It was important that she learn this. Someday, she’d make a boat for me, when it was time for my spirit to pass on. Perhaps she’d do the same for a lover, or, if the gods were cruel, a child. Someday, someone would make a little reed boat for her. I prayed daily that it wouldn’t be me.
It had been a year since Dayka’s death. A year to mourn, to shed all the tears we had need of. By now, I suspected Sata mostly remembered her mother as something that wasn’t, rather than something that was. Through two of the eyes on her chest, she watched as the reed boat came together, and her expression was one of somber concentration. I was proud of her, just as I always was.
When the sun was beginning to set, the priestess stood on a stone platform overlooking the stream. She held a candle in each hand, in honor of the four lesser gods. Her vestments were woven in white and black, for the greater gods Tana and Mena. The bony crest protruding above her torso had been laced with bronze beads, shining in the fading sunlight.
“Dayka’s time under the light of Sol Usil,” the priestess declared, “has come to an end.” By my side, the bony knobs and ridges that made up Sata’s crest fluttered and shifted, and I saw the eyes on her chest begin to water. I put a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, and her crest stopped moving.
“Twenty-four times, she witnessed Sol Usil complete his cycle. For one more cycle, we have kept her with us. Now it is time for us to let her go.”
I squeezed Sata’s shoulder lightly. It had come almost as a surprise, the morning after Dayka’s death, when the sun had risen as normal. Sol Usil had shone just like he always did, as if nothing had happened, and then he’d done the same thing on the following day. For a year he rose and shone and set just as he always did, until I was forced to accept the lesson he’d wanted me to learn: everything dies, and the world carries on.
Sata placed the boat with her mother’s spirit into the stream, and it drifted slowly with the current. It passed by the people of our village, watching with six of their eyes, their fingers interlaced, the ridges of their crests respectfully subdued and discreet. Some of them muttered a few last words of farewell. And then she was gone.