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Reading - Blog Posts
Guys. Oh my god. I restarted my phone cause it was glitching out and when i clicked my chrome for some ao3 time instead of seeing the smiley face in the corner of the tap that shows how many tabs you have open (samsings give you a smiley face after a 100 instead of a number)
THEY WERE ALL GONE. GONE!
Im feeling genuine grief. Shock. Disbelief. Some of those weren't bookmarked, weren't finished or saved for later what am i gonna do???? Go find them again???? I dont even remember them! All i know is that i loved them! Isnt that enough? To keep them?
Father hasth gambled than I shall read a mere eleventeen pages of my lovely light novel. With the knowledge I have severe reading block and have not dared touch this literature for many moons, I have utter confidence that I will read another 51.
So true Lmao
Other YA characters taking down their enemies: massive scale magical fight scenes, complex good vs evil moral conversations, love triangles, tragedy
vs crooked kingdom
kaz brekker: so, what do you fuckers know about the stock market?
¡FYODOR MASTERLIST !
I think I’m falling down a fucking rabbit hole of fanfic. Like. It’s to the point where I want to date the “perfect man or woman or someone” and it’s all I read about but in real life it’s nothing for me. When I wanna have something that someone has that I’ve read about it makes me wanna stand on a fucking train track. I’m being dramatic but maybe reading fanfic needs to stop. Or maybe I should stop looking in real life.
when I read a romance but the FL has more chemistry with her female best friend rather then the ML(s)
“You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity. At some time, every creature which lives must do so. It is the ultimate shadow, the defeat of creation; this is the curse at work, the curse that feeds on all life. Everywhere in the universe.”
- Philip K. Dick, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” - Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere’s Fan
Why must I scream from the rooftops
"JUST BECAUSE I'M DYSLEXIC DOESN'T MEAN I HATE READING!!"
my favorite genre is “kitchen sink” tbqh. yes i want your metaphysical space opera Gothic haunted house horror-comedy. yes i want your medieval road trip heist mystery. give me time traveling werewolves and noir detective robots teaming up to fight alien supervillains. i want this sundae with every topping in the shop
Exactly!
And i gotta ask, I cannot be the only one who sees these things, like
Writing tips to help get published! Problems an editor always has to point out!
And I'm just like, please don't do that?? As a reader, i do not agree?
For example, i saw one guy saying, "Don't use one-off side characters. Combine them into one character, so that the batista the MC sees everyday, the secondary love interest, and the childhood are all 1 3-dimensional person instead of 3 1-dimenaional characters."
I saw that and i just immediately thought, please god no, don't do that. I love random side characters! I hate it when it feels like the MC's world is so tiny, like they literally only interact with 2 or 3 people. I wanna see how they are with strangers! How strangers percieve them! It makes the world feel larger!
And i admit, i am NOT a writer, at all. But I read CONSTANTLY. I'm part of the audience, and i prefer when my book/fanfiction does the opposite of what professionals tell them to.
Please tell me I'm not the only one
Reblog if you’ve ever read fan-fiction that actually set the bar higher.
Imagine reading 917 pages of three different in two days like it was nothing while also having to take breaks to attend classes, eat, and ugh... sleep.
Couldn't be me.
Anyway, I am on a reading high. I've finished two books in the past two days and started reading a third. My brain is throwing my own character into the books. I fear for them. They'll definitely not be tortured by my brain. Totally not.
Y'all, It's finally time! I'm on page 159, with 20+ chapters, and I'm here to tell you... The first chapter is edited and ready to be read! Please do bear with me, as this was written probably 2 or 3 years ago, but I hope you enjoy! Now, with no further ado, read on below!
@queen-of-hobgobblers @deadandgaysetanta @redkarmakai
Chapter 1
Florentine
"So, the wounded hero finally dares to stand, eh? I'm almost impressed" the sneer in his words is unmistakable, though my vision seems impaired. My muscles quiver as I rise to face him. Muddy droplets drip from some long-forgotten wound. A sharp, excruciating pain flashes through my leg, centering around my kneecap. I brush it off, because I have to. I have a duty, and what am I if not successful? Who am I if I can’t even protect these people who venerate me? I stand and turn to face my attacker, steel in my heart and fire in my eyes. Their smirk ignites a simmering mix of hatred and envy. Why should they be the one to walk away with their life intact? Why don’t they have to sit and suffer in silence as their other half climbs a ladder so tall that the gods in the sky must crane their heads merely to catch a passing glimpse? Rage pulses behind my eyes, begging for cruel release.
Everything's red. His hand. The ground. The blood red dagger, forsaken long before. The sky. I can't think, can’t hear, can’t see. All that runs in my head is what went wrong. It was fine, we were fine. Everything was good. We were peaceful. Until that day. That horrid day that ripped us apart and set us on our separate, yet morbidly entwined, paths. A voice drones in the background, that one that haunts my dreams and comforts my nightmares. The ground shakes, morphing the landscape. The sky turns black and the trees fluctuate with a wonderlandian determination. The ground twists and tumbles in my eyes, falling away as I attempt to push myself up. My hands scrabble against the softening dirt and I let a grunt escape my lips. His thunderous eyes pierce my heart when his head whips toward me. His mouth moves, but the words don’t register in my ringing ears at first.
I launch myself toward his misty figure. He's waiting, baiting me. I know this. But some things are more important than playing a game. My fist flies past its mark on my first try. A haunting chuckle infuriates me further. I press him, swinging my fists with less accuracy, but I fight harder and harder, I strike and coax more and more and more until he's backed against a wide-trunked oak, trapped between wood and flesh. Blood, beautiful, glorious, shimmering blood, floods down his face as I stand triumphant over theim. Their previous courage dissipates faster than the winds he tries to command. Finally, I hold all the cards. I can be the one to finish a fight, the one to leave them broken, cowering on the ground, weak and worthless in the eyes of the once adoring, now cautious public.
My eyes shut, as a way to preserve this perfect, wonderful scene in my memory. I open them, punching in front where he should be, but the scenery has changed. No longer am I in a mournful wood, surrounded by splintered trees and freshly slaughtered rodents, but rather a village. Run-down huts flood my peripheral, and a young boy looks up at me. He grins, and I stumble back at the mania in his eyes and the blood on his teeth. His golden hair is matted, but his shoes shine with care and polish and his hands have never known a day of work.
"Hey, mister! That was one nice punch you got there! Look, it even made me bleed!" The bloodlust in his eyes is unmistakable, and I collapse to my knees while my younger self drones on about my attack. It was all a dream. Just a dream. Always so close, and yet they’re always one step further. The town is still decrepit, the villain is still on the loose, and I'm still the one to blame for it all. The one who let him go, let him break me a thousandfold just for a sense of my past life. How?! How could I have been so blind?! So…
The sound of my voice breaks the trance of misery and I allow tears to flood my face, my all-too-real facial incisions burning. The sobs that wrench from my body surprise even myself with the desperate plea behind it. My screams are swirling and writhing with the pain that only a truly tortured soul can contain. Horrid, deep sobs wrack my body while thorny vines, red as blood, climb up my shuddering form. The pain cuts me to the bone, but I don’t care. It grounds me. No, what I beg for is a floundering force of strength who long since abandoned me. I scream, louder than I ever have, louder than I thought I could. Even when the tears stop flowing, dry, throaty sobs and screams rack my soul and the vines tighten, clasping at my throat. Air. I need air. There's no air. A name, unintelligible, shrieks out of my mouth. I cry for him, want him, need him. I need their kind eyes, the prim distaste they hold for everyone but me. I need his voice, his heart, his love and lust. My lone earring, a silver, triadic swirl, dangles. It shines as if a beacon might, glowing with false promises. The vines know what I want, what I need. They guide my hand, tearing the piece of jewelry down, flinging it, getting lost in the heartbreak of first love, first trust, and first pain. The screams have become comforting. I know them. I know pain, and I welcome it. Grey shadows creep into my sight, and I gladly welcome them, too. They encompass my vision, and I lean into the cold, slate shadows, reminiscent of stones chilled by a frosty winter air.
"USELESS!"
I've reached page 143, so the time to vote is nigh: once I reach 150, do you guys want
I've reached page 143, so the time to vote is nigh: once I reach 150, do you guys want
Alright, attempt #2:
We got a three-way tie last time, so I'm hoping this one is gonna gain a bit more traction! So, for the second time: who do you all want to see first?
@deadandgaysetanta @queen-of-hobgobblers @redkarmakai
the thing about people who are like “i don’t like tolkien that much, fantasy should move on and be better” is that i AGREE that fantasy has all the wrong holdovers from lotr. but when you ask those people what contemporary fantasy they think is better, they’ll say shit like name of the wind or game of thrones, and i do not relate to that…..at all?? or even, like, brandon sanderson, whose books i REALLY like. but if you’re still naming mostly white straight male authors, what is it about tolkien you wanted to leave behind exactly???
Random book I read when I was 13
Me writing (i LOVEE writing)
May we have a sneak peek at the next chapter 👀👀
i'll do you one better
“The Reader†wire sculpture by Derek Kinzett, Wiltshire, England
November 3rd, 2022. 12:30 a.m.
Please
I'm so tired
I can't keep this up.
These aren't my lungs
My heart beats for others
But I'm not done
My tears smother.
I want death to come peacefully
Wrap me in cloth
And talk to me gracefully.
Whisper to me as I fall asleep
In the arms of someone who cares.
The weight on my shoulders makes me buckle
But the pressure on my chest makes me chuckle.
No one knows
Life is No's
To curl up and die
I float
One final night
No more lies.
To pass on to the joyous chatter of party goers
Is the sweetest release when laughter is the final overture.
I spread myself too thin and my limbs are being stolen from me
Who or where has what
And why is it how it has to be?
Just,
Please,
Leave me alone.
Or other e-readers. I have a entire folder filled with epubs. I save all my favorites.
Tumblr. Why did I only just realise I can download directly from ao3 onto my kindle? I’m glad I only downloaded like 6 the hard way before realising!
*runs directly to @jimothybarnes latest post to download all the things*