Please recommend me a good Nairaland writer that has written a story on this forum. I don't mind if it's incomplete, or short.

Nothing I've read, barring Misswrite's beautifully crafted stories, has captivated me enough to the point of wanting to finish the story.

I want someone who writes good prose and knows how to add colour to their sentences. I want someone who infuses figures of speech into their writing, the way Misswrite does, not some bland story teller like Larrysun.

I want someone who can mobilize words to paint vivid pictures that immerse you into the story; words that catapult you into the mind of the characters so you can feel every emotion, viscerally.

I regard myself as an absolutely terrible writer and yet, from my own evaluation, on this forum, I write better than a lot of the people here. This is heartbreaking. Surely there are better writers on Nairaland? Please point them to me.

Thank you.

I'll copy and paste evidences of bad and good writing so you guys would have a better understanding of the point I'm trying to make.

There and back on time
Check that out

Example of bad writing

This was copied from LarrySun's latest work. I'm using this because as an acclaimed writer on this forum, I expect his recent work to be better improved, which obviously isn't the case.

"I was eventually dragged out of the van and led to the tunnel. I had absolutely no idea whether it was daybreak or not as I was being taken through the malodorous passageway. I remember that I kept asking what I did wrong but none of my abductors gave me an answer. Little did I know that I would not be seeing the light of day for the next three hundred and twenty-five months.

Everywhere was often pitch-black, except on few occasions when there would be faint lights in the corridor of our cells. I was able to identify my cell number through the inmate who occupied the cell opposite mine. He told me my number was 71, and I in turn told him his was 154. The following day, or so I think, the corpse of the inmate in Cell 154 was taken away by men in black. That was when it dawned on me that we were not supposed to speak to each other.

However, there were two inmates on either sides of me who always played a game of chess with each other. I was usually the conduit between these players. I knew nothing about chess. I couldn't push a pawn to save my life. But I was a lot useful in helping these two prisoners enjoy their games. They never had a board, so each one drew a board on the floor of his cell, made pieces with stones. Whenever the inmate in Cell Block 70 made a move, he would scribble the move on the floor outside his cell for me to see. I would in turn scribble the same move for the inmate of Cell Block 72 to see. The recipient would in turn scribble a responding move for my view and I would relay the same message to 70.

The above is an example of very poor writing; unsophisticated and dull. The prose is childlike and badly constructed.

The image the writer paints is bland and unremarkable. It doesn't move me even in the slightest. The protagonist is in a bad situation but the writer seems to lack the ability to draw the readers into his world; to make us feel his emotions.

Three paragraphs of forgettable nonsense.

Example of good writing

These are two paragraphs from one of Misswrite's short stories:

"It seemed like only moments ago that my tired legs carried me across the stretch of wilderness as fast as they could. The sound of my own breathing was heavy in my ears; and terror, the shape of cold sweat, wet my skin, fuelling my escape. My bare feet bled from the repeated collision with resolute boulders. I did not see the blood in the pitch blackness of the night but my toes felt sticky, and the lubricant between them was much thicker than water. The pain would come to me after, I knew, but in that moment, I was running to stay alive. I could concern myself with nothing else.

The wild chanting had become only a murmur in the distance – quiet and small – and the raging torches were diminished to flickers that seemed now inconsequential like fireflies. The people determined to kill me had fallen some ways behind; but their malice loomed ever large and deathly close, and it breathed down my neck like a rabid dog. Therefore, I could not relent. I had to keep going. If I got caught, I would burn like Monday did – poisoning the air with the stench of my unripe scorching flesh – waking the hills with strident agony. The deafening screaming from earlier that night haunted me still. They had put a tire around his neck and doused him in petrol because Monday was an abomination, they said, just like I was; just like I would continue to be if luck would let me outrun the mob’s eager judgment. If not, I was doomed for sure. My desperate hope was to find The Others. Finding them was my only realistic chance to survive."

Compare the above with the copied paragraphs from LarrySun's story. What you'd notice is a gulf of imagination and skill.

The images misswrite paints in these short paragraphs are clear, powerful, evocative and stunningly beautiful. Her word play is top-notch and her prose is excellent.

This is how to write, folks. Stop celebrating mediocrity. Stop making bad writers think that they are hot shots.

Good critical review, I must say.
Every writer needs such critical reviews to assess themselves.
If you think you're a good writer, wait until someone else reads your work and gives their unbiased opinion of it.
Those who wish to improve their craft will always welcome reviews with an open heart and work at making improvement.

tomiwa1989:
There and back on time
Check that out

Link to the story, please.

tomiwa1989:

https://www.nairaland.com/1333913/there-back-time-nairaland-best

Rubbish. One of the worse pieces of writing I've ever read.

Clearly we both have differences in our definition of good writing.

There are way way better writers here, but if you think you are better, then who am I to judge you for your grandiose delusion!!!
I've read brilliant story here, brilliant writers,the like of m.b alee,Larrysun, Silver something(can't really remember the moniker) roycemadeit,metalgear,danielchucks,wuraserano.
The list is endless dear,do your thing and stop finding fault in others, let your work speak for you and stop acting like a toddler deprive of it favourite toy

LOL! Have a nice day.

LarrySun:
LOL! Have a nice day.

And that's how a BOSS responds.

ironkurtain:


And that's how a BOSS responds.

Slaves to mediocrity. Shameful.

Hermix:


Slaves to mediocrity. Shameful.

It's like you just came here looking for trouble. Baby-girl, please don't do that with me. Just leave that alone.

ironkurtain:


It's like you just came here looking for trouble. Baby-girl, please don't do that with me. Just leave that alone.

Sorry I sounded rude. But just out of curiosity, what kind of books do you read? Fiction I mean.

LarrySun:
LOL! Have a nice day.

Stop playing to the gallery. Say what's really on your mind.

I hope you improve your writing. Nigerians don't read so their estimation of your writing would be at the level of the unsophisticated writing that they are used to.

You are not a good writer, yet. You are good at building story plots, but you are mediocre at description. A one eyed man is a king in the land of the blind. In this case you are a one eyed man and your followers are blind.

For a proper cross-examination of your work, post a link to your best story on Reddit and have proper readers evaluate your work. Do this and you will receive a lot of helpful constructive criticism, and you will understand that you are still a long way from being a good writer.

We are eagerly waiting for your story or book please!!!

Okay.

I just discovered another talented Nairaland writer.

@Gracile

She's very good. I also visited her Instagram page where she does occasional book reviews. I'm already a fan.

This is a link to her story titled "Rain"
https://www.nairaland.com/3819526/rain

This is a perfect example of what good writing is guys. Enough with the celebration of mediocrity.

What books do you read, Hermix?

drippingink3:
What books do you read, Hermix?

That's a difficult question to answer. But it just gave me a new idea.

I'll respond to your question by creating a thread. In this thread I'll detail every book I'm currently reading. I'll mention you as soon as I create the thread.

I'll keep updating my responses as I read more books. This will give you good understanding of the kind of books I read.

Thanks for your question.

Hermix:


That's a difficult question to answer. But it just gave me a new idea.

I'll respond to your question by creating a thread. In this thread I'll detail every book I'm currently reading. I'll mention you as soon as I create the thread.

I'll keep updating my responses as I read more books. This will give you good understanding of the kind of books I read.

Thanks for your question.

Okay.

Hermix, Take a look at Eze2000 and AudreyTimms.

Hmmm. I may learn one or two from this thread

just say you have a personal thing with larrySun and come for it with your full chest instead of going around

Just say your female counterparts writes better than male writers on NL, and nobody will beat you.

Demonicus:
Just say your female counterparts writes better than male writers on NL, and nobody will beat you.

Interesting observation. I never thought of it. Maybe it's because Nigerian females read more fiction than males and hence are exposed to better writing? Your level of writing is usually a reflection of the level of literature that you read.

Hermix:


Interesting observation. I never thought of it. Maybe it's because Nigerian females read more fiction than males and hence are exposed to better writing? Your level of writing is usually a reflection of the level of literature that you read.

I'm glad you got that outta yah chest.

Hermix:


Interesting observation. I never thought of it. Maybe it's because Nigerian females read more fiction than males and hence are exposed to better writing? Your level of writing is usually a reflection of the level of literature that you read.

I understand you were r@ped but you shouldn't take it up on another fellow male writer, you simply need a therapist. (I went through your profile)
Anyways, my few works on this forum are open to all kinds of criticism as well if lashing out your frustration on us will make you feel better.

Criticize my work

'Blackmailed To Marry Him'

Chapter 5( The second Invitation)

Two weeks after Eva received the first letter from Julian, she walked into her elegant office, gorgeously dressed and her face beamed with a smile. Her wedding gown just came in from Dubai.

The sleek and effortlessly sexy wedding gown with a classic silhouette was designed by a famous designer known as Mandy Valentino.

The ultrafeminine wedding gown was carefully handcrafted with the finest materials. The French lace and the embroidered tulle gave it a regal feel. Its whimsy and vulnerability were top-notch, Eva could not repress her smile of satisfaction as she walked into her office.

They had just thirteen days before the wedding and everything was going as planned. There would be a bachelorette party in an exotic hotel a day before the wedding. James had sent out an invitation to some of his naughty college friends. They would be flying in from different parts of the world.

Eva sat on her swivel chair after adjusting it to her desired height. She went through her phone again, admiring the beautiful photos of her wedding gown. She brought her phone down when her eyes caught sight of a shiny object at the center of her desk.

It was a love letter envelope sealed with a gold wax seal stamp. She grinned and picked it up. James won't stop dropping romantic messages for her.

Last week, he left a romantic envelope on her car seat, sealed with the same gold seal when she visited his family. She did not know James left an envelope on his car seat.

She was dumbfounded when she was about to leave for office the next day and saw the envelope. She switched the engine off and unsealed the envelope. It was one of the most romantic things she had ever read.

Eva was about to open the envelope when James walked in with his contagious smile. His walk had a sunny cheerfulness because everything was just going as planned.

Eva stood up, tossed the envelope aside and James swung her into the circle of his arms, and began to eat her lips.

"Would you mind?" James whispered into her ear. Eva understood what he wanted through his body language and nodded her head with a giggle.

"Just picture, honey, I know you have it in your phone," James whimpered and continued holding her tight. Eva tried to free herself from his embrace.

"You will only see it on our wedding day," Eva smirked when she had freed herself.

"Okay, can you give me a description?" James tilted his brows, shrugged his shoulders, and put his hands in his pocket.

"It is a fairy-tale gown with some jaw-dropping elements," Eva said. James moved closer again and wet her lips with his kiss. He gave her a warm hug after the gentle kiss.

His eyes caught sight of an envelope that was on her desk. He frowned and began to pull slowly from her embrace. Eva read his body language again and lifted her gaze at him. She quickly looked in the direction his eyes were and was surprised.

"Why are you staring at the envelope you sent to me?" Eva asked, a bit worried.

"I'm surprised because I did not send a love letter to you," James said.

"What? Are you sure?" Eva asked and James nodded his head.

"Then who did?" She asked, picking the envelope up from her desk.

"Open it and find out. I hope it's not from Hampton." James said with worries written on his face.

Eva looked up at him before running her eyes on the four sentences that were on the letter.

She brought her hands down disappointedly, sighed, and flung the letter away. She did not want anything that would take her beautiful smiles away. The letter could not stride as far as she wanted, so it landed on Jame's feet. James bent, picked the letter up, and read out loud.

"I regret writing to you again over what is simply solvable.

I regret even more that you failed to honor my last invitation.

Well, it might interest you to know that you are about to make May 26, a day of weeping.

You have my address, come and tell me why you did it"

James frowned his face and fixed his gaze at Eva who looked less concerned.

"Did what, honey?" Jame asked, his face clouded with uneasiness.

"Sweetheart, I did nothing!"

"Are you sure this letter came from Julian Hampton? Julian of all people? No, I doubt."

"He said he regretted even more that I did not honor his first invitation in the second sentence. Julian was the only person that had ever sent an invitation letter to me. Obviously, this letter came from him.

"He is such a cheap blackmailer!" James yelled. "What is he going to do on May 26?" James asked curiously.

"Stop the wedding? He dare not!"

"Listen, honey, I'm not going to let this slip away. I don't care who he is or the number of fans he has all over the world.

I'm going to talk to one of our experienced attorneys. They would help us talk to him.

For now, Eva, I want you to resist the urge to engage him. I know part of you wants to ignore him, while part wants to know what you did. Honey, you did nothing to him." James said. "Even if you did, you know I don't care, right?" James asked. Eva looked at him and nodded. She knew James did not care what anyone would say about her.

"What are we going to do to ensure nothing interrupts our wedding?" Eva asked. "Honestly, I'm a bit scared.

James moved closer to her and put his arms around her waist. He gently planted a kiss on her neck and nibbled her ear before whispering into it.

"Our wedding comes up in thirteen days. I have booked a hotel for our honeymoon in the Maldives. All our fantasies must be explored," James said and they giggled.

"We are going to have a delicious dinner filled with satisfying aphrodisiacs–artichoke and oysters for appetizers, a Mediterranean seafood stew for the main course, and a chocolate-hazelnut dessert on our arrival.

After the dinner, we will go back to our room and have a long bath together.

Honey, I'm going to pounce on you as the tiger hunts her prey. I will flip you over, pin you to bed and give you a lot of tender bites.

After the multiple bites, I'm going to come in between your legs and devour you like a hungry lion. I can't wait to watch you whine in ecstasy for me," James said in a flat tone as he held her so tight.

"What scent would you chose for our candle? Sea breeze, sage and lavender, citrus and ginger, sandalwood?" James asked after nibbling her ear.

"I love peppermint, I find it quite pleasant," Eva giggled.

"I like the scent of a tangy orange; we can use the two," James said.

Eva held his head firmly with her right hand. They pulled away from each other after some minutes. James looked dreamily at her, wishing they were on their honeymoon already.

He tried to pull her back again, Eva protested. She noticed his passion which came without warning had begun to consume his body and soul. James bit his lips and lowered his gaze.
Eva picked the letter up from her desk and tore it into pieces. She tossed both the pieces and the envelope in a trash can. James admired her courage even though he wanted to keep the letter as evidence.
"I love you Eva," James said with a grin, looking admiring at her.

https://www.goodnovel.com/book_info/31000255146/Romance/Blackmailed-To-Marry-Him