#Post Publishing

[catacini]

it's so beethover / we're so bach

[annabelle--cane]

I'm in the literary studies section of my university library, reading vampire books you've never heard of

[thegirlhoodtheory]

I WILL BE GOOD AS LONG AS YOU WANT ME, 1/28/24

image from wikimedia commons

[triona-tribblescore]

I WANNA DRAAWW!! RAHHHGG!! Absolutely swamped with college work, im so tired TT (hence whatever tf this is lmao)

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was

(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)

Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.

My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.

So I did.

Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.

If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.

Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?

That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.

The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.

***

After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.

A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.

See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.

Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.

*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤlike what you seeㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤflustering them by staring for too long ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, childe ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( p.s. amai never proofreads)

"anonymous order; ...can i have the prompt 'screw you and your cute face' with wanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, and childe ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi just love the idea of flustering these guys ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you and hope u enjoy, xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

if you think the easiest way to fluster this man is by staring at him with that lovesick look in your eyes, then you're absolutely correct.

he could be minding his business and you'd take your place beside or in front of him, and after a few minutes he can just feel the way you stare at him. your eyes burn into his skin, but not in the way he'd grow uncomfortable under your gaze, instead, in the way he could feel his face heat up.

he would huff before looking up at you, about to nag you for staring, but he always finds his words locked in his throat when he locks eyes with you. archons, the way you look at him is always so hypnotizing, it makes him feel vulnerable in a way that he'll never admit he likes.

he tsks, "can't you go, i don't know even just a minute, without staring at me ?" he snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to hum and look away from him. no, no don't stop staring. i didn't tell you to stop. his eyebrows furrow.

you chuckled, "sorry sorry," you turn back to him, chin resting on your palm, "i can't help it when you're so handsome." and you just had to back that up with a grin. archons you were doing this on purpose !

as much as he tries to fight back the warmth in his chest and the shudder your voice sent through his body, the shaky breathe he let out betrayed him as he opted to look back to the textbook he was reviewing.

he stuttered, "w - whatever ! just stop staring so much." before burying his nose back into the textbook as you laughed at him. "i can try ~"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

in your relationship, it's usually heizou doing the flustering. and he does a whole lot of that staring too, especially when you're busy and he happens to be bored out of his mind, but ironically enough it's his weakness too. especially like this . .

the two of you had a free afternoon ahead of you, and what better way to spend it than to wind down in a hot spring ? you stepped into the water first, beckoning heizou to join you.

he turned his back to you, rather shy to take off his shirt, and you happened to make him even shyer by whistling once he slipped his shirt off. he turned to you over his shoulder, a smirk on his shocked red face, only for you to return a cheeky grin as you leaned against the rocks of the spring.

he shook his head, choosing to retaliate by teasing further. "so, you like what you see ?" he turned to you, hands on his hips with confidence that you'll be the one turning red, only to watch your eyes look him up and down. "yeah, yeah i do." you hummed, closing your eyes, missing the way heizou's face burned up again.

he cleared his throat, now stepping into the spring and taking a seat beside you, trying his best to brush off your gaze on him. since when did you know how to look at him like that ? he leans back, relaxing in the warmth of the spring and closing his eyes.

"if i get to see this sight everytime i take you here, i might just buy this entire place for ourselves." you spoke, piquing heizou's attention as he opened his eyes to turn to you, and not even the heat of the spring could compare to the heat he felt on his face as he met your gaze.

he chuckled, embarrassed, "well, aren't you bold today ?" he tried to tease, scratching the back of his neck. "why, don't you like it ?" you joked, cupping his chin to make him look at you, earning a shy smile from him. "i do, i do like it actually."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !

being new to the concept of expressions and reactions to certain antics, xiao is easily flustered, though he is yet to realize it.

"is it a natural habit for you mortals to. . stare ?" he quizzed without looking at you, his eyes still closed as he savored the rich flavor of the almond tofu you had brought him. he opened one eye slowly and gazed at you you from the corner of it, perking up to the sound of you chuckling softly to yourself. "i suppose you can say that," you waved a hand in front of you.

"more like, it's natural for us to stare at something, or someone, we find interesting, puzzling, or alluring." xiao now fully turned to face you in curiosity, the bowl of half-eaten almond tofu set on the fencing of the balcony.

there was an emphasis on alluring, he mentally noted. was that intentional ?

"i see, so, which do i fall under ?" he asked, his gaze now fixated on you with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. you tilted your head at him, "what ?" "do you. . stare at me because i'm interesting, puzzling, or —" "alluring." you smiled at the way amber eyes seemed to widen for just a split second before they were replaced with the back view of messy sacramento green locks as the male turned away from you.

"i stare at you because you're alluring, xiao. very alluring, even." you hummed, leaning your elbow against the fence of the balcony and resting your chin on your palm ever so casually, watching and noting the way his shoulders tensed then relaxed.

he might consider being thankful that your view was locked on his back, hence you couldn't see the humiliating red he could feel his face burst into. he tried to clear his throat, his hand grabbing the bowl of almond tofu and spooning the rest into his mouth to distract himself.

"every part of you is alluring, even how red your ears are." and at your words, one of his hands reflexively came up to cover his ear, causing you to laugh out loud as the adeptus turned to glare at you lightly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkamisato ayato !ㅤ

if this man thinks he's not easy to win over, he is funnily mistaken.

sure he's the smoother one with words, he knows all the right words and habits to adapt to make you swoon. but other than that, he's more vulnerable to your simple antics as he lets off.

"ayato," the way you'd say his name and drag on the last syllable, as if cooing at him, how he loves it. "ayato," the way your touch would linger on him even at the lightest taps, something so simple could tug his lips upward into a grin. "ayato !" a soft hit to the back of his head caused him to turn to you, finally.

"ah - good afternoon, darling." "i called your name three times ?" "ye. . yes, pardon me. i thought i was lost in my imagination again." he admitted as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles gently.

you hummed, "and what was so engrossing about your imaginations this time ?" you questioned, taking a seat next to him while his hand rested on your waist, now leaning his head against yours. "you, i was just thinking about you." he hums, "you smell sweet."

and a few minutes of comfortable silence followed after, enveloping the two of you in a rare calming atmosphere, ayato's head was now laid in your lap as you stroked his hair softly. ayato then started to feel your gaze on him, by how familiar it was. he smiled, looking up at you.

"staring much ?" he teased, sharing laughter with you as you playfully messed with his bangs. "i can't help it, you're very pretty like this."

"only like this ?" ... "stop staring at me, darling, answer my question." ... "please ?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤchilde !

"childe."

now, you wholeheartedly think your boyfriend's eyes are pretty, regardless of how lifeless they are whenever he's not gazing at you like this.

"tartaglia."

but, at this moment, you can't help but find them a little bit irking. just a little bit. just a tad.

"ajax."

it's the third call of his name, yet he's still sitting there, chin on his palm and everything, with that smug smile on his face ! while you're here, trying to cook a full course meal, he's sitting there staring at you like you're the food.

but in his defense, is there a law against admiring your lover ? there better not be ! he's done nothing but sit there innocently, just drinking in your pretty face, because if he can't do it no one else can !

it's when you softly pinch his side—not enough to hurt, but enough to make him snap out of his daze—that he finally raises his hands up in surrender. "what, i can't ogle at my own darling lover anymore ?" he makes a show of jutting his bottom lip out in a pout, but you just huffed at his antics. "you can, if you would actually help me cook." "help as in ?" "cut some carrots maybe." "but i can't stare at you intently if i'm cutting something." "maybe that's the point."

ah, how you wound him.. kidding, a day without your attitude is a day incomplete for him. he fakes a sigh before standing up from his chair. he grabs a chopping board, a knife, and a few carrots, then gets to work.

it's a few minutes later that he feels your eyes on him, so from over his shoulder he turns to see you, in your seat with your cheek propped up against your fist, smiling at him. he grins, "now you're staring at me." "what, i can't ogle at my own boyfriend anymore ?"

he raises an eyebrow at the way you turned his words back onto him, but he laughs nonetheless before shaking his head and going back to work, assuming you would too.

you did not go back to work. he could still feel your eyes burning into his back. and he would never, ever—he would, out of the blue just to fluster you one day—admit that it was starting to shake his focus. his cuts were starting to get uneven as a result.

"are you going to keep staring at me ?" "is there a law against me admiring my handsome boyfriend ?"

alright, you win. just this once.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[bahrmp3]

[id: 11 gifs from season 4, episode 12 “crossfire” from the tv series “star trek: deep space nine”, the gifs show quark, kira, and odo in odo's office.

1st gif: quark walks into odo's office. kira is sitting in a chair facing odo. quark says, "i'd like to file a complaint."

2nd gif: odo says, "not now, quark." but quark continues, "a noise complaint against you."

3rd gif: camera cuts to show odo. he says "we are conducting station business."

4th gif: camera cuts back to kira and quark. quark looks down as he addresses kira, "my quarters are right below his. you wouldn't believe the racket he makes."

5th gif: camera cuts back to odo. "quark." odo snaps and stands up. quark continues, "do you know what it's like to hear someone practice shape-shifting?"

6th gif: camera cuts back to kira and quark. kira is drinking from her cup, while quark continues as he looks at odo. "last night, it sounded like a takaran wildebeest was tromping around up there."

7th gif: camera cuts back to odo, he is standing with his arms crossed in front of him. "that was for all of five minutes. once you complained, i took the form of a rafalian mouse."

8th gif: camera cuts back to kira and quark. kira looks at quark as he says, "yeah, little tiny feet skittering across the floor."

9th gif: camera cuts to odo, his arms are still crossed and he looks away as quark continues "back and forth, back and forth."

10th & 11th gif: camera cuts back to kira and quark. kira looks at quark surprised, "you could hear that?" quark gestures to his ears and says, "hello?" they both look at odo and quark continues, "sometimes i can even hear him oozing around." /id end]

[lostlegendaerie]

there's something deeply gutting about being a writer right now. watching studio execs brag about starving people like you out of your very house just to not pay you anything above the pennies you currently make. watching some people cheer over AO3 being targeted for a DDOS attack. the complete lack of profitability of writing commissions or writing in general in transformative spaces, especially in contrast to fanart. the pivot of so many social media platforms to be video and image based near-exclusively.

I don't know. it just makes me sad to know that the hobby that kept me alive while growing up homeschooled with dial-up internet and local antenna TV... is only ever gonna be a side job with minimal engagement. I know this site is good about supporting libraries and the concept of books but, do me a favor? Reach out to a writer friend you know. Leave a comment on your last five read stories on your favorite website.

Tell us you care.

[alienoresimagines]

Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too ❤️

You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.

The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.

Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.

'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3

You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.

Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.

Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.

I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).

Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!

Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.

Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3

[thebibliosphere]

I was already on a hair trigger today trying not to snap at a mutual for reblogging a "fuck authors who use Amazon" post, but, like, this shit is why some authors can only afford to use Amazon.

They don't have the $75+ to distribute through Ingram Spark. They don't have the $25 it takes to change your files if you need to update them after they've been accepted. They can't afford to take the cost of printing hit to their sales. They can't afford to lose an additional 40% of their income to retailer discounts.

And just so we're clear, Ingram isn't a vanity publisher. They're one of the largest print monopolies in the world. They're used by most mainstream traditional publishers and indie and self-pub authors alike. Amazon uses them when their print demand is too high.

My friend, whose work is published by Gollancz, is printed through Ingram, the same as mine. The difference is their publisher takes the hit for them. In theory. We won't get into dwindling advances here or how publishers are increasingly putting the onus of marketing and sales onto their authors or the fact that their editors can't afford rent or food while the executives get richer and richer.

So what do you do when the mainstream doesn't want you? What do you do when you're told if you can't keep up with the rat race, that you don't deserve to have your work published? What do you do if all you have is the ability to tell stories for a living, and no one wants you?

Well, you could die of starvation. I'm sure there are several people on here who'd be happy if that happened to me. (I know. Because they tell me. Often.) Or, you can shake hands with the devil, knowing it's a bum deal, knowing everything is fucked, but also knowing that every other aspect of this fucking industry is just as fucking bad.

There's no escape. It's relentless.

And you've got people out there posting things like, "Actually, I think authors who charge for their books are part of the problem."

And yeah, in an ideal world, I'd be making art for art's sake.

But we're not in that world. We're in the bad place, and you're actively making it worse. You're encouraging people to steal from people who are struggling just like you and calling it activism against billionaires or putting them in the same moral category as said billionaires as though we're not trapped in this system, same as you. Some of you are fellow fucking authors. And, like, my mind boggles at what it would take to stab a fellow creative in the back like that, but here we are.

Hell world.

[madi-konrad]

A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS

It is the curse of ADHD that, at least for me, I'm always running to the next project, and then the next, chasing the new shiny thing. And that has served me well in my creative endeavors, as much as it has stymied me. But I really do think that I caught something special in my first novel, A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS. And thanks to how my brain works, I rarely ever promote it! Which seems unfair for how much effort I put in, alongside my friends who patiently helped me edit it.

It's a sapphic romance between a (newly minted) Duke and the demon she summons. It's a fantasy which takes place in a secondary world loosely based on Victorian-era Europe, though without any of the queerphobic, or even sexist, hatred endemic to its real-world counterpart (or even to our modern day). It's fast paced, gay as fuck, and I poured my heart and soul into it.

I'd be honored if you picked it up; it's only $5.99. About the price of a Latte.

Grab it at the following places:

itch.io (PDF, ePub, and mobi all included!)

Kobo link (ePub version)

Apple Books, Smashwords, and a few others (ePub version)

Amazon (Kindle version)

Barnes and Noble (ePub)

Synopsis below the cut:

Lucia is a succubus, a demon with the power to shape the emotions and passions of mortals. Summoned often into the world of Melodia, she takes pride in upholding her demonic contracts to the best of her abilities. She likes to think she does her job well … though a string of recent failures say otherwise.

Talia, the recently elevated Duke of Fallmire, summons Lucia for a simple reason: to pose as her wife and fulfill marital obligations to the satisfaction of Parliament. All to say, just a few weeks of walking around the estate and playing nice with the neighbors before a conveniently tragic death. Quick and easy.

But immediately, Lucia smells blood in the water. Behind closed doors, the Duke plots vengeance upon those who killed her father—and the demon wants in. Revenge, after all, is much more fun … and more lucrative, to boot.

But can Lucia predict how hard she’d fall for the Duke? (Not a chance). And can the Duke find it in her vengeful heart to love?

Spice Level: lightly described nudity, fade-to-black sex.

64,000 words.

[norris55s]

Hi, with the rumor/news of Charles opening an ice cream place, I wanted to request some crazy text about this whole thing

chaotic texts - charles leclerc

reader x charles leclerc texts, except they’re crazy and about the *reads notes* lec ice cream parlor?

for more chaotic texts

————————————————————————

[dovetailjoints]

obv I’m waiting impatiently for Ian Leslie’s mclennon book to come out, but I should have known that the French would get there first

If you press me to give a reason why I loved him, I find it cannot be expressed otherwise than by saying, “Because it was he; because it was I.”

[hedgehog-moss]

I love the calzone post because the first 80% I was like "This is a bit intense, but perhaps they just live a different life than I do" and then you said 'vraiment' and I was like "Ah, French (or perhaps Wallonian)! That makes sense! I now understand the extreme social pressure!"

(btw sorry if you're actually Algerian or Quebecoise or something, I don't know anything else about your blog)

Your ask made me laugh! And I love that you're not the only one—someone else reached the end of that post and went "ah, French, well that explains it"

I thought maybe the sentence "Naturally my first assumption was that [the chef] was judging me for my food order" would make it clear that this was happening in France! I was actually telling a non-French friend the other day (when discussing a piece of US media) how insane it felt to hear a "French" character say "the customer is always right" in a restaurant.

But sometimes the customer gets impromptu catzones and that makes everything worth it <3

[joenateuser]

Harry Collett | via Kiera Simpson - for HATC Magazine

[firstfullmoon]

I love hanif abdurraqib and kaveh akbar SO MUCH