Too much inner monologue?

[Deleted member 93985]

I sometimes feel like my inner monologue is so heavy that it literally covers the entire chapter. Like this but exaggerated:

I opened the door.

It may sound like I was overthinking this, but whenever I opened the door, I felt like something clicked in me. I didn’t know what it was, but I could only describe it as some sort of awakening that only got triggered whenever I touched the doorknob, and as I twisted it, slowly but surely, it reminded me of how foolish I was when I thought that my ideals were pure. No, ideals were never pure—they always had some bad intentions in them. There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth, Nietzsche would say. Even this door I was opening right now only looked sturdy on the outside but actually hollow on the inside. But could I really be sure about that, though? Or perhaps I was mistaken. The door was both sturdy and whole, so its surface and depth were equally beautiful. I envied it. Sometimes, I wished I was like this door. The door either allows or disallows you from entering, and that gives it so much power. When I set my foot inside the room, an outpouring of emotions surged into my psyche. Just one step and I was able to reminisce the sweet moments that I’d spent in this room. Truly, it was enough to make you sentimental. And it got even better (or worse) when I set my other foot on the special floor, and I could only describe this experience as ephemeral. Its ephemerality was what gave its beauty. Ironically, people tend to enjoy it when it ends too soon, like what I was experiencing right now. And when I finally showed myself to this room, I felt free. I felt accepted, loved, and cared for. Others might think that the room had this cold, bleak air, but I would disagree. It was peaceful and quiet. I turned my head to look at the door I’d opened, and not too long that I started missing the other side of the world. I found this room really special, but the other side was special too—how conflicted I was. But then, sometimes you have to move to another place to feel anew. To feel as if you’ve grown. If you’re stuck in that world forever, you’ll never grow, so that’s why doors are invented: to give you opportunities. I sighed, holding the knob of the door, slowly closing it as I felt sad. But it was okay. It was okay to embrace the truth. With this truth, I’d be able to conquer my future mistakes. And thus, after relishing the new environment, I’d be able to go back with more confidence. More strength. And more wisdom.

I closed the door.
​

Do you tend to write heavy inner monologues too? Is this right or boring? Too much exposition?

 

[RepresentingWrath]

Yes, it's too much and too childish.

 

[Lloyd]

Yes

 

[Jailbreak571]

...
At this point, shitting might also be philosophical.

 

[APieceOfRock]

I sometimes feel like my inner monologue is so heavy that it literally covers the entire chapter. Like this but exaggerated:

I opened the door.

It may sound like I was overthinking this, but whenever I opened the door, I felt like something clicked in me. I didn’t know what it was, but I could only describe it as some sort of awakening that only got triggered whenever I touched the doorknob, and as I twisted it, slowly but surely, it reminded me of how foolish I was when I thought that my ideals were pure. No, ideals were never pure—they always had some bad intentions in them. There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth, Nietzsche would say. Even this door I was opening right now only looked sturdy on the outside but actually hollow on the inside. But could I really be sure about that, though? Or perhaps I was mistaken. The door was both sturdy and whole, so its surface and depth were equally beautiful. I envied it. Sometimes, I wished I was like this door. The door either allows or disallows you from entering, and that gives it so much power. When I set my foot inside the room, an outpouring of emotions surged into my psyche. Just one step and I was able to reminisce the sweet moments that I’d spent in this room. Truly, it was enough to make you sentimental. And it got even better (or worse) when I set my other foot on the special floor, and I could only describe this experience as ephemeral. Its ephemerality was what gave its beauty. Ironically, people tend to enjoy it when it ends too soon, like what I was experiencing right now. And when I finally showed myself to this room, I felt free. I felt accepted, loved, and cared for. Others might think that the room had this cold, bleak air, but I would disagree. It was peaceful and quiet. I turned my head to look at the door I’d opened, and not too long that I started missing the other side of the world. I found this room really special, but the other side was special too—how conflicted I was. But then, sometimes you have to move to another place to feel anew. To feel as if you’ve grown. If you’re stuck in that world forever, you’ll never grow, so that’s why doors are invented: to give you opportunities. I sighed, holding the knob of the door, slowly closing it as I felt sad. But it was okay. It was okay to embrace the truth. With this truth, I’d be able to conquer my future mistakes. And thus, after relishing the new environment, I’d be able to go back with more confidence. More strength. And more wisdom.

I closed the door.
​

Do you tend to write heavy inner monologues too? Is this right or boring? Too much exposition?

I always limit myself to 3 sentences per monologue at maximum. One thing I like to do is to do what you did but just outside of monologue. I know what I said didn't make sense so I'll provide an example:

===
The priests looked at Sylvia like she had just killed their whole family in front of their very eyes.

'I mean, she probably did', I thought as my eyes drifted toward the corpses lying on the ground.

But what could she have done? Take the hit and let herself be killed?

'Certainly not!'

===

the way I write it doesn't make a whole lot of sense if you read it really carefully, but for normal readers it's good enough

 

[Premier]

Inner Monologue sucks. Have your character speak so people can react. Even talking to themselves is better.

I'd only use it if there's a reason the character can't speak out but really wants to.

 

[CDTPPW]

IDK, I do like internal monologues more than most people, I should say. But if you want me to do some contructive criticism, then here I go.

1) The worst part of the monologue you wrote is not its lenght. It's the contentent. You conveyed nothing specific or meaningful, all the Character was pondering was something stupid. You tried to go philosophical there, yet it was all about a stupid door. Who wants to read/hear that? That will bore anyone.

2) At least have the character having an internal monologue that is composed of pondering about a situation or a person.
For example: the MC has a crush on a girl, but he finds out she had a threeseome with two other dudes. So in his mind he can stay true to himself and judge her, call her names, express his disgust, express his view about the subject, without having to deal with people telling him "he's a mysogin/not a real man" etc.

3) Or just a random thought he has that cant be said out loud. Example:

- Hey, Mak!

Hello, boobs! Man, this chicks is made 80% of boobs! Every time she greets me, I feel the urge to stare at her boobs.

- Hello, Patricia!

- Have you been well?

No, I'm about to die and I request to be burried in betweed those boobs!

- Yeah, same as usual.

- Have you heard what Maria did?

Man, this bitch sure likes to gossip! I wonder if she talks behind my back too. Maybe I should whatch out what I say and do around her. But those booobs, tho...

- Nah, what did she do?

Etc.


Hope it helps XD

 

[NotaNuffian]

Holy, that is a wall of text.

The character sounds like an insecure child who happens to mumble to himself a lot due to the lack of friends.

For the record, I should not say that it is abnormal. I should not.

While having inner monologue is normal and people here consider me a weirdo for thinking otherwise, too much of it is also a sign of being off the cuckoo clock. Talk to someone, now.