Seven Lines

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.

Out of Context Line

Thanks @glasshouses-and-stones for tagging me! I've been busy with my studies, but writing. Planning on making an intro post about Liquor and Locusts when I have time, oddly it's gotten some interest after years in my asks. But for now here's a random excerpt from a chapter I'm revising this afternoon.

Tagging: @orphanheirs @tildeathiwillwrite @defeatistwriter, and anyone else who wants to join. Happy Saturday :)

beforehand I'll do like a brainstorm/word vomit in my notebook to get ideas flowing. when actually writing I'll light essential oil candles, open pinterest, wordbook and google, and drink like a gallon?? of ginger tea and disapear for like 3 hrs.

do any of you have writing rituals? tell me about them!

mood!! same!!! good luck <333

just submitted to a litmag for the first time….

hello world! you’ve severely disappointed me! i’d sound like my mother if i went on about your mistakes, but i’d rather spare you the grief! save room for me in my unlikely return, even if you’re a hard place to call home! ciao!

Last Line Tag #1🍨

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! 

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.

Reading this book requires rotating it around, holding it upside down and paging through countless footnotes of fictional references. I'm really enjoying it so far and I strongly reccomend it if you love horror!

🍿?

Share an out-of-context line from your wip. (this one’s from Yellow Houses!)

We didn’t have any pictures of him so they were all I had to stare at, which was rare, but when I did, I imagined him on a ferry crossing the Marmara Sea, nibbling on simit, dark hair flattened against his forehead from the breeze, contemplating the mess he’d made and regretting it immensely. 

That moment when you print out a chapter and what you’re doing suddenly feels very real and tangible and oh, I love reading on printed paper it’s so motivating

I’ve come to realize that I’m an underwriter. Hbu?