This thunderstorm cured my writing burnout.
First drafts are fun, easy, as long as I don’t extensively read what I’ve written. I’ve been sitting in libraries. Yesterday I had my first ever chai tea latte.
Thank you @alicewestwater for the tag! :))) Lil excerpt from my new novel where Amber gets annoyed at Raisa’s ghost while waiting for the bus. you know, just some relatable content ;p
Raisa laid in a rectangle of grey sunlight under the window, tranquilized by rum and spiraling dust bunnies. Hands folded over her belly, bulging with chocolate covered almonds, eyes shifting like marbles under the orange juice pulp of her lids. Dreaming of cities without people or cars, the houses, puffs of cotton candy with gumdrop path lights and woolly archways.
I wanted to plug her mouth with the heel of my hand, but to passersby I’d only be cupping air, squinting at concrete. I didn’t want to start off another Tuesday, an unhinged street performer.
tagging: @noteaboy @oceancold @emdrabbles @aelenko @fluoresensitive @writeremma @purgatorydotexe and ofc, anyone else who’d like to do this challenge!
i should really do a proper intro
while you're reading this, go listen to Marche Slave by Tchaikovsky, so you get the vibe while reading the rest.
hold onto your tea and coffee -black, no sugar naturally- and delve into....
*enthusiastic cheering fills the air*
(jk i respect all types of coffee and tea)
I'm an aspiring teen writer and occasional anarchist. I started writing because I had developed 23 characters in my head and didn't know what to do with them.
Additionally, I've always read books (bibliophile from a young age) and I thought:
"wow, all these people express their worlds this way, let ME try it"
so i did. and I love it. It's the only thing keeping me together. I've gone clinically insane over people and worlds that don't exist.
more under the clip
5 random facts:
• I'm left handed!! so i use special pens which don't smudge!
• I acquire passports like America acquires oil.
• I like Polish stuff and patterns because Poland is COOL! I love the food and the folklore as well! If anyone wants to tell me anything about Poland, go ahead!
• My cat's name is hard to pronounce:
- Rudy (means ginger): [ɣoʊdi]
• I love PIGEONS
am open to asks and instructions on how to build a nuclear bomb (no joke I've had them before)
My favourite thing to do on a Sunday is to summon the ancient spirit of IKEA, and scream in Swedish🇸🇪 and watch the Grand Budapest hotel for the 51st time.
*cries in Eurovision ✨
I'm always open for tag games!
I am currently writing some sort of mystery, psychological steampunk thing? with an inkling of murder?? chocolate factories? I don't know where to begin.
also:
happy birthday!
I’ve come to realize that I’m an underwriter. Hbu?
Since I’ve essentially reset my blog, I decided I should also reset my general taglist! Those who wish to be on my general taglist will be tagged for:
❀ WIP Intros.
❀ Excerpts from WIPs and Short Stories.
❀ Snippets of poetry.
❀ General Blog Updates.
You will not be tagged in posts specific to certain WIPS. Those will feature their own taglists. You will also not be tagged in tag games. If you wish to be added to my general taglist, interact with this post (likes, rbs, and replies all count)!
Current Taglist: @42ndplace @catgirlnya @talesofsorrowandofruin @haldimilks @keira-is-writing @piyawrites @kitblogsthings @svpphicwrites @alexsidereus @rainbowcoloreddays @dahladahlabills @sunwornpages @bookphobe @writing-el @moonyspoon @oceancold @feverdreamwritings @ravens-and-rivers
This is beautiful, I'm obsessed??!!!!
In Tabby, a reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.
Genre: literary fiction, “soft” noir (??)
POV: 1st person present, very observational and detached for most of the narrative
Setting: late 1940s/early 1950s, unnamed US city but implied to be Los Angeles
Atmosphere: a summer that’s sickly, orange juice, the smell of paint, shaky hands, peach skies, sunflowers, blood splatter, a cats purr, the gut feeling that something is very, very wrong
Literal Logline: this cat is my friend and he doesn’t judge me over silly little things like the murder i just committed (also i think he might be god??)
Hi I wrote a story about a cat and got way too into it and accidentally made it about murder and now it might be my favourite thing I’ve written! Lets talk about it! cw for murder and blood imagery!
general taglist ; @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @melpomeny @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @writingamongthecoloredroses @harehearts @zemnian @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @notphilosopherstudentblog @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you
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Old books kind of ruined me for that. Cue me staring at my own three paragraph run on sentence while editing and not even understanding it
i love reading old books because they invent such ways to create a long ass sentence
Yess! Been looking forward to your nano vloggg!
watch me fail nanowrimo because why not
I forgot about this short wip, I hope I didn’t lose the actual document now
I wrote this short story a while ago, intending to submit it to some magazines, leaving it to decay chill until I had time off from uni to edit it. Currently busy af w *shiny* new novel, but I wanted to share some of it on here to motivate me to work on it. Alors,,,,,,
genre: spooky lit-fic logline: Trudging through the barren Arizona desert after a night out partying, a group of friends come across a cupcake shop owned by a creepy old lady and her cannibal husband. TW: drug use, dead rats, disturbing cupcake ingredients, murdery elderly people.
Everything had been going well up until I lost my pink sneaker. It jumped into an Uber and drove off waving, never texted or called, leaving me to live my life without protection from sharp objects or raccoon shit lying around my frilly socked feet. Then we missed the last bus.
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It’s so hard being a writer sometimes because you can tell yourself over and over again that you’re writing for yourself, and yet you will always crave the interaction, you will always want to share, and for people to like the thing you put your heart and soul into. It’s just hard when you can see the numbers, and the constant comparing, having the self-doubt and wondering why you even bother trying when there are people much better than you.
All you can do is keep reminding yourself that it’s your story to tell, and no one else can tell it like you. You love it, and there are others out there who will love it, too, and the numbers absolutely do not reflect your worth or your storytelling.
You’re incredible, and you’ve got to keep writing because your story is worth telling.
writeblr /// tangents about my wips It’s all lit-fic, mystery, and noir around here Project Istanbul
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