I chose to teach one of my classes the word "defenestration" (the act of throwing someone or something out of a window) and it has become one of the most used words among us. I'm proud.
happy storyteller saturday! what are some of your characters’s favorite childhood memories?
Happy sts! Thank you so much for sending a question again, @feathered-inkling! I love answering these!
Oliver’s favorite childhood memories all surround the rare times he and his siblings got to just be kids. Times like playing hide and seek when his parents weren’t home and staying up late telling ghost stories with his younger brother. Shiloh’s favorite childhood memories are just whenever her dad gave her metalwork lessons and taught her anything new surrounding his forge.
The wonderful @radley-writes tagged me for this (thank you!). You can read their post here!
Rules: Seventh page, 7th line, 7 sentences.
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As soon as she left, Charles slumped back in the seat, closing his eyes as the noise of the crowd washed over him. He’d have his dinner here and, with any luck, would get a room at another inn. That didn’t seem too bad. As long as he got a decent night of sleep, he’d be fine.
With a deep breath, he opened his eyes again and looked out at the crowded dining room. More people had shown up since he sat down, mostly younger people like him, from what he could tell. A group pushed through the crowd and settled at the booth next to him, their loud conversation preceding them the whole way.
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There isn’t much for action or dialogue here, since this landed on a bit of a transition. It’s also from draft one of my current WIP, which hasn’t really been edited much yet, oops.
I don’t have anyone in particular to tag, but if you’d like to do this too, maybe tag me so that I can see your writing!
Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think a woman should have full control of her own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell
every character’s first line should be an introduction to who they are as a person
even if you only wrote one sentence on a really bad day, that’s still one sentence more than you had yesterday
exercise restraint when using swear words and extra punctuation in order for them to pack a punch when you do use them
if your characters have to kiss to show they’re in love, then they’re not in love
make every scene interesting (or make every scene your favorite scene), otherwise your readers will be just as bored as you
if you’re stuck on a scene, delete the last line you wrote and go in a different direction, or leave in brackets as placeholders
don’t compare your first draft to published books that could be anywhere from 3rd to 103rd drafts
i promise you the story you want to tell can fit into 100k words or less
sometimes the book isn’t working because it’s not ready to be written or you’re not ready to write it yet; let it marinate for a bit so the idea can develop as you become a better writer
a story written in chronological order takes a lot more discipline and is usually easier to understand than a story written with flashbacks
It’s been months since I’ve seen them—three months and nine days, to be exact. That last, monumental fight echoes through my mind as I sit, waiting, in our favorite cafe. It was a mutual decision to take this break, I remind myself. We just needed time to cool off from the fight and better ourselves before we tackled the whole “serious relationship” thing again. The idle chatter of the other customers, the clanking and hissing of the coffee machines, and the muted pop music emanating from the speakers on the wall do nothing to dull my nerves.
I glance at the clock above the door and, noting that they’re definitely late now, check my phone as well. No messages. My stomach clenches as I turn my attention back to the door. I shouldn’t be surprised by their tardiness, considering they've never been particularly concerned about timeliness.
The door swings open again and in they finally walk. In our months apart, nothing has changed in their appearance and, despite my anxiety, that warm feeling only they can create spreads through my chest.
“Can I get my usual? With almond milk this time, though. I’m on a diet.” Their voice cuts through the cafe as they order their drink. The barista nods, sets up their order, and charges them. They scan the cafe and, spotting me, saunter over to our table.
“Long time, no see, huh?” They greet me, giving me a relaxed smile. Without waiting for a response, they add, “I love what you did with your hair. I told you that color would look great on you.”
“Thank you! You were right, I really like it.” I comb my fingers through my hair as I speak, proud of this change I’d managed to make. “It’s faded a bit-”
“You should’ve cut it shorter,” they cut in, their smile giving way to a speculative frown. “That length makes your face look fat.” Their tone is remarkably light as they say it but it still makes my stomach drop. Of course I didn’t get it right.
Before I can come up with some sort of response, the barista calls out their order. The table shakes gently as I tap my foot against its leg and watch them retreat to the counter. It was just a comment about my hair; we can still salvage this.
“Excuse me, but I need a straw.” Again, their voice cuts through the cafe, this time dripping with that familiar annoyance of being inconvenienced.
“Oh, I’m sorry, someone must’ve just taken the last one,” the barista replies quickly, her voice squeaking at the threat of a true confrontation. “Give me just a second-”
“Is it really that hard to do your job?” They demand before the barista can even step away from the counter. “No wonder you all make such little money at these jobs. You idiots can’t even keep the straws stocked.” Without waiting for the barista’s response, they storm back to the table.
Silence settles over the cafe for a moment as the others watch their return to our table. They take their seat, pointedly pop the lid off of their cup, and take a sip. The flavor must meet their standards since they don’t speak up to the barista again.
They quietly study me over their coffee before asking, “How have you been? Haven’t fallen in love with someone new while I’ve been gone, have you?” Their tone almost feels joking but their fingers clench around their cup of coffee, white from the pressure.
“I’ve been fine,” I offer, carefully watching for any sort of new reaction as I speak. “I made a lot more progress with my novel, so I’ll be-”
“Did you meet anyone new?” They interrupt, their tone as sharp as the pinning stare they give me.
“No, I didn’t meet anyone new.” I match their tone as best I can, hoping it at least somewhat conveys my intention to not let them walk over me again. “I’ve been looking into querying-”
“Good,” they reply, leaning back in their chair and setting their coffee on the table. “I met someone pretty cool at a bar a little while back. They actually live in the other wing of your apartment complex. I barely even recognized it was the same building, they decorated it so nice. Your place doesn’t have to look like such a dump, you know. A few nice rugs, some original art, and boom, no one would be able to tell it was practically falling apart.”
I listen quietly, considering their comments as I sip my coffee. They ramble on, talking about their new job, their joy from seeing me again despite my ugly hair, and their plans to travel to the east coast. They’re in the middle of telling me about the pie they made earlier this week when I finally speak up again.
“Do you even care?” I ask. My leg bounces under the table, the only outward sign of my anxiety that I’ll allow. They raise their eyebrow at me, a smirk forming on their lips.
“Do I care? About what?” They question back. “About you? Yes. About my new job? Also, yes, even though it pisses me off sometimes. I care about a lot of things.”
“You don’t even-”
“I think the question here is whether or not you care about me.” They plow on, leaning forward and planting a firm hand on the table. “You disappeared for three months and didn’t contact me at all. We took this break for you and you took your merry time, torturing me with your silence. Your parents even said you’d told them not to talk to me.”
“I think that’s enough,” I say and, even though it comes out quieter than I intend, they stop talking immediately. They stare at me in shocked silence as I continue. “I thought we could make this work, but I’m done.” I get up from the table, retrieving my coffee as they process what I’ve just said.
“You can’t just break up with me,” they finally say, their eyes narrowing at me as they rise from their seat. “You think you’ll get on without me? Who else do you have-”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contact me again,” I say, keeping my voice even as theirs rises. “Goodbye.” I turn and make my way to the barista’s counter, drop an extra tip in their jar, and leave the cafe.
This is a piece I wrote for a creative writing course I took recently. I don’t have any current plans to continue it but I thought it’d be nice to share it with you all! I hope you guys like it!
So proud of you my dude!!! I wish you the best of luck and, of course, I’ll still be with you every step of the way!!
okay so I have been out as a trans man for four years now, but have never had the finiancial stability to begin transitioning. But starting in two days, ya boy will be starting hormone therapy! Thanks to all of you have been supporting me during this rough part of my life, and now I can see clearer skies :)
Graceling By Kristin Cashore ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ I absolutely loved this book. Yes, I’ve said that before for other ones but this book was such a fun adventure to go through and the main character developed sooooo much to be such a great person. The book is about a graced young woman who doesn’t have really any friends and is almost completely under the control of her twisted King. If you like adventure, a little bit of romance, and action I highly recommend this book to you!! Can’t wait to read the other two books corresponding with this one.
Thank you for tagging me, @musicofglassandwords!
I’ve mostly just been editing/revising old writing lately, thanks to being really out of practice. Here’s a bit from my most recent writing that’s actually new though!
He tore the note from the journal and set it next to her belongings before gathering his own and heading back outside. Securing the bag of supplies to the saddle, he mounted Sage again and headed back towards town.
Not the most interesting bit, I know, but for once it appears I actually finished a scene when I finished writing. What a shocker.
Tagging: @radley-writes @eggletine @wildler
I don’t have a ton of mutuals in the writing community here so I’m not tagging too many people. Feel free to skip this if y’all want and, for those of you that see this but weren’t tagged, feel free to tag me if you’d like to do this as well!
Summary: When a mysterious show arrives in town, seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Brighton is both intrigued and unsettled. But none of the acts capture her attention quite like the blue-eyed woman. Locked in a birdcage and covered in feathers, the anguish in her voice sounds just a little too real to be an act—because it isn’t. The show’s owner, a sadistic witch known only as the Mistress, is holding her captive.
And she’s chosen Elizabeth as her next victim.
After watching the blue-eyed woman die, Elizabeth is placed under the same curse. She clings to what little hope she can find in the words of a fortune teller and in her own strange dreams. The more she learns, the more she suspects that the Mistress isn’t as invulnerable as she appears. But time is against her, and every feather that sprouts brings her closer to meeting the blue-eyed woman’s fate. Can Elizabeth unlock the secret to flying free, or will the Mistress’s curse kill her and cage its next victim?
Before I begin, I’d like to mention that I received a free digital copy of this story from @byjillianmaria in exchange for an honest review. Before being selected for this, however, I was completely certain I would purchase the book anyway, making this a fantastic opportunity to take in the story.
All in all, this story was a great read and I really enjoyed it. It’s not very often that I get to read a story with such an organically and naturally written character that’s a member of the LGBT+ community and, as a member of that community myself, Elizabeth was a great main character to read. The relationships between the characters, too, were incredibly interesting to learn about throughout the story and, I’ll admit, were my favorite aspect of this novel.
About two-thirds of the way through the story, the plot began to feel somewhat jumbled to me. Newly introduced details, despite having ties back to the beginning of the novel, felt forced to me, and it made it difficult to read a handful of the later chapters. I’m unsure as to whether this confusion was intentional, as Elizabeth may have been overwhelmed by the information, or if it was due to rushing the plot progression (or my own misunderstandings). Either way, this did clear up in the last couple of chapters, allowing me to fully enjoy the ending.
I enjoyed this book, and I think this would be an enjoyable book for anyone that enjoys fantasy stories with elements of horror and mystery such as this one!
Sonja | They/Them 🏳️🌈| 18+Hello and welcome to my blog! Here you’ll find posts about both reading and writing, as well as the occasional book review!Icon made w/ @adriabun’s picrew
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