#Resources: formatting

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[haxxydraws]

🍉 Arab.org - Click Daily 🍉 eSims for Gaza 🍉 UNRWA.org 🍉 Gaza Funds 🍉 Vetted fundraiser masterpost 🍉 Commissions for Aid

please consider checking out the above links!

[byluna]

custom colors? double,  nay,  even   triple   spaced   text? format your tumblr text any which way you want with the free space generator by luna!

HOW TO USE

write or paste your text into the text field!

in the bar at the top you'll find the tumblr formatting options, custom colors + a few other fun bits and bobs

when you're satisfied, just hit the GET CODE! button, which outputs your text as html! you can skip right to step 5, unless:

if you also want double- or triple-spaced text, simply hit DOUBLE SPACE IT! or TRIPLE SPACE IT! right above the code. this only works after you've generated the code.

copy your code and then go into the settings menu of your tumblr post. under "text editor" you can choose the html editor and paste your code in there.

and done! add any images you'd like and you're ready to go!

please message me if there are any issues with this generator! consider a little like or reblog if you've found this useful ❤️

[gottalottarocks]

Are you an American? Frustrated by the political process? Do you feel like you have no voice in our government? Let me introduce you to the wonderful world of public comments. 

This is where federal agencies propose new regulations asking for public feedback:

Regulations.gov

Here's a step by step on how to navigate this:

Look through the proposals on the explore tab and filter by "Proposed Rule". These are the regulations that have been proposed, but not finalized. 

If you click on these, they are pretty dense, text heavy explanations of the proposed rule changes. I definitely do a lot of googling when trying to understand what I'm reading. Also there are a lot of different topics here and I definitely don't comment on everything.

This is how you make a public comment. For example, for this proposed rule:

Start a new document and write the subject and docket number. Your comment NEEDS to have the docket number for them to count it most of the time, and the correct subject some of the time.

^^ this is ambiguous, but add the docket ID and subject just to be safe, it should look like this:

Ref: Docket ID No. NSD 104

Provisions Pertaining to Preventing Access to Americans' Bulk Sensitive Personal Data and U.S. Government-Related Data by Countries of Concern

Then address to the person at the very very end of the page. 

Scroll all the way to the end:

^^this is the person you address to. 

Then introduce yourself. If you have experience related to the proposed rule, talk about that. For rules related to the environment and public health I say that I'm a geologist with a master's degree and I work in environmental remediation. Otherwise, I just say I'm a concerned citizen. 

Then I say hey I agree/ disagree with this proposed rule and here's why. Oftentimes there will be lists that the federal agency is asking for specific feedback on.

Commenting on these will have a lot of impact. 

Here's an example comment I forgot to post for a rule regarding methane emissions in the oil and gas industry:

Administrator Michael Regan The United States Environmental Protection Agency 1200 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W. Washington, DC 20460

Ref: Docket ID No. __ Waste Emissions Charge for Petroleum and Natural Gas Systems Dear Administrator Regan, My name is __ and I am writing to you as a geologist and graduate of ___.  I currently work in ____. Thank you for your interest in reducing methane pollution, which I believe to be one of the most important aspects in reducing the harm caused by the climate crisis. Within the short term, methane is a much more powerful force of global warming than carbon dioxide. It breaks down faster than carbon dioxide— but it traps significantly more heat that should be bouncing back into space. When scientists talk about taking our foot off the gas pedal in regards to the climate crisis, methane is at the forefront of our minds. Natural gas is often proposed as a solution to reducing our greenhouse gas emissions (since it produces less carbon dioxide than coal plants), but these methane leaks are a serious threat to public health. Not only is methane hazardous, it’s ability to cause short-term superheating is contributing to the rapid increase in wildfires within the U.S. and globally, further degrading air quality. Last summer in NYC skies were orange, caused by ash from Canadian wildfires. As someone who sets up air monitoring equipment every day to ensure the surrounding community is not impacted from the disposal of hazardous waste, I have a unique opportunity to see on a day-to-day basis how air quality is degrading. I strongly support the Environmental Protection Agency's proposed waste emissions charge. For EPA’s implementation of the fee to fulfill Congress’s goals, the final regulation must continue to include key requirements including: ·       Regulatory compliance exemptions must only become available after final standards and plans are in effect in all states and that these plans are at least as strong as the EPA's 202 methane emissions proposal. Operators filing for exemption must also demonstrate full compliance across their facilities; ·       Strong and clear criteria must remain in place for operators seeking an exemption based on unreasonable permitting delays; ·       When operators seek an exemption for plugged wells, they must clearly demonstrate that their wells have been properly plugged and are no longer polluting; ·       Transparent calculations and methodologies to accurately determine an owner or operator’s net emissions; and ·       Strong verification protocols so that fee obligations accurately reflect reported emissions and that exemptions are only available once the conditions Congress set forth are met. I urge the EPA to quickly finalize this proposal with limited flaring, strengthened emissions standards for storage tanks, and a pathway for enhanced community monitoring. Thank you, ___________

And then paste your comment in or upload a document and submit! You will be asked to provide your name and address. Also the FCC will only take comments on their website, but the proposed rule will be posted on the federal regulations website I put above and they should have a link to the FCC website within that post. 

[dovalore]

sillies from the training fields 1/3

[whirlpool-blogs]

Boeing B-17 Takeoff and Landing Checklists

[scoutsbiggestfan]

did you ever make a pt2 to the kurt wagner graphics from the forum?

since i havent made a pt 2 yet, ill just do it here :3!

not mine, i dont know who made them...🐕‍🦺 — link to the first post

[toxintouch]

yk how in veres likes on his character sheet it says he like cooking (badly)…… WHY HAS NO ONE DONE A FIC ABOUT THAT YET‼️⁉️⁉️ THAT SHOULD NOTTT BE A WASTED OPPORTUNITY. i’m not even joking im ab to send this to so many people because i can’t let this go to waste 😞

Here u are anon!  For the record, you are completely free to send this prompt around wherever you’d like!  It was such a fun idea, I’d love to see more takes on it. ^^

Warnings: Vere talking Innuendos? Innuendos.  So many, and I don’t guarantee that they are funny lol.  Just a general silly vibe and imo: absolutely  tooth rotting fluff.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅SOUS CHEF ‧₊˚♡₊˚

You find yourself wandering through Lowtown during the lunch hour, trying to decide what sounds like a good meal.

Your mouth waters at the scents being carried on the breeze, a plethora of pleasant aromas wafting out of the eateries nestled inside the Amaryllis District, so fragrant that you can smell them all the way down on the bustling streets of Lowtown as long as you stay downwind.

However, if there’s one nice thing about knowing Leander it's that you also know you don’t have to go that far (or spend that much) for a delicious lunch. 

Near enough to the Wet Wick, there’s a series of side streets that make up an eclectic amalgamation of Lowtown and the Amaryllis District, and in it: a small and inconspicuous eatery.  The menu changes often, though you aren’t sure if that’s out of innovation or necessity, but the food is always filling and reasonably priced.

You follow the winding streets, getting lost for a brief moment before correcting your course, traveling until you see colorful chipped girih tiles and wide, clean windows.  You let yourself into the shop, the now familiar sound of hinges in need of an oiling welcoming you.  

There’s an assortment of goods on display–jars of honey and spiced fruit and loaves of braided bread with seeds–all kept safely locked away beneath an enchanted pane of glass.

Looking around, though, you don’t see anyone selling said fantastic wares.

You call out, expecting the shop keep or her wife to come running but instead you hear…silence.

Followed by a loud metallic clatter.

You freeze, unsure what to do, what the threat is–if there’s even a threat?–but before you can make up your mind, you’re greeted by a most unexpected sight.

Vere comes out of the kitchen area, his hair swept into an artfully stunning up-do that reveals the long line of his neck and clavicle, blemished only by the heavy collar locked around his throat. 

He’s wearing a weighty linen apron over his clothing, presumably to protect his outfit, though–his long gossamer sleeves are completely discordant with the notion, making you think that maybe the apron is more of an aesthetic choice.

“What’s this–?  A mouse?  In my kitchen?” Vere asks playfully as you continue to stare, dumbfounded.  He wields a spatula in his hand like a weapon–swatching it into his off-hand like a riding crop with a decisive snap.

“Where is–?”

“–The shop keep?  Wherever she pleases–the shop’s closed on Mondays.”

(You really don’t like the way he’s watching you…  Or the way he keeps inching closer…)

You take a step backwards, your eyes never leaving his.  “Oh,” you say, bandaged hands reaching blindly behind you.  “I didn’t realize.  The door was unlocked, so…”  You trail off.

You find the doorknob at last.  You attempt to turn it only to find that it won’t budge.

“Was it?”

Vere saunters up to you, tail swaying behind him.  You manage to tear your eyes away from his predator stare to search for possible exits, though you know for a fact you won’t be fast enough.   You look back and he’s already in your space, crowding you against the entryway.

(He smells really good, actually.  Like leather and spice and the subtle cling of perfume and incense.  And beneath that, something–earthy–animalistic, but in a way that’s intoxicating as opposed to unpleasant.)

“I was just about to make myself a snack–how nice that a snack came to me.”

“Stop playing around.” You try to steel yourself and inject the perfect amount of scolding into your voice while combating his heated stare.  “I know you’re just fucking with me to try and get a reaction; you and I both know you’re not going to eat me.” 

If he was, he would have done it by now.  Sometime within the weeks you’ve known him.  …Probably. 

Unless he just likes to play with his food.

“I didn’t realize you knew me so well,”  he says, looking amused.  “Perhaps I didn’t plan to, but now I simply can’t resist.  You look so absolutely delectable, how could I possibly contain myself?”

You don’t get the chance to reply.  Vere’s countenance changes suddenly–you watch his ears flatten a second before you hear the screaming whistle of a teapot.  His ears twitch in annoyance at the sound, his perfectly sculpted face showing a sour sneer.  He gives you a sideways glance, calculating.

“Then again.  I find myself in need of a sous chef.  Congratulations on your promotion.  Come along now.”  He hooks a finger into your cloak and pulls you easily into the kitchen.  (To be fair, you don’t struggle.  Anyone would want to see where this is going, right?)

He releases you once you’ve crossed over the threshold, waving his fingers uncaringly towards a second apron affixed to a hook on the wall as he beelines to remove a glass teapot from the stove and stifle the noise.  He moves quickly as you watch, casually throwing aside the spatula in his hand in favor of an ornate silver teaspoon.  He measures a vibrantly colored tea into the inlaid steeping container of the equally ornate teapot and takes a pleased inhale as the tea’s fragrance blooms, humming as he flips over a delicate hourglass to keep track of the steeping time.

There’s silence for a moment–

Him watching the teapot and you watching him.

“Well?”  He asks, without looking up.  You’ve seen this look before, you think – this pensive, almost lonesome look that makes your heart ache against all better judgment.  “Staying or going?”

He grins when you put on the apron.  You search his face for some sincerity, but he’s all sharp teeth and tall ears, covering any glimpses of deeper emotion with a sheen of smugness.  He circles you once you have the apron on, taking in the image.

“Mm, don’t you just look adorable.  Very domesticated.”

You’re pretty sure that the word he’s looking for is domestic. But of course, he knows what he said and he meant to say it.  You decide that he’s probably betting on your correction, already armed with a witty retort.  You smooth the apron down while pointedly looking away, deciding that you won’t give him the satisfaction.  You hear him chuckle.

Since you’re avoiding looking at Vere, you look around the kitchen for the first time.

It’s a spacious workspace–moreso than the storefront, even.  There’s a large iron stove unlike anything you’ve ever seen, covered with magical runes and dials, with a large hearth built into the belly of it.  A plethora of pots and pans have been placed on the burners, left to sizzle and pop in the red hot heat.  

Oil is singing from the heated, shallow basins but you don’t see anything cooking inside.  

There’s a slab of meat diced into neat squares and a heaping bowl of lumpy batter set to the side of the stove top.

“What are you making?”  You ask, trying to make sense of the scene.

“Panko crusted fish filet.  And there’s a pasta in the oven.  For dessert, I was thinking–” he gives you a sly look, one that makes your ears feel warm, “hmm, well.  I just had a much better idea in regards to dessert.”  He makes a show of licking his fangs, the movements of his tongue slow and sensual.

You think you tied your apron too tight; your airway is feeling a little constricted.  It seems to be getting worse the longer you watch.

You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away.  More ingredients, most partially prepared, and a host of dirtied pots and pans greet you.  You turn your back to him as you explore, fully engrossed in all of the views that the mess of a kitchen has to offer.  You’re almost afraid to ask: “So, what am I here to help with?”

“Oh?”  You don’t hear Vere come up next to you, but you feel him brushing up against you.  “Does my darling sous chef require…instruction?  A guiding hand, so to speak?”  You freeze, feeling his breath against your ear, shivers running down your spine at his light and teasing chuckle.

But then he’s breezing past you, making a wide dramatic gesture toward the large tome perched surreptitiously on the counter.  “Lucky for you, I’ve a recipe.”  His tail wags swishes elegantly behind him as he beams with pride.

His tail knocks the whisk out of the mystery batter beside the fish filet but he takes no notice.

Vere hops gracefully up onto the counter, reaching for the batter.  He does an impressive twist in order to grab hold of another whisk and you take the time to appreciate that.  Then, with Vere occupied and seemingly ignoring you, you take a look at the recipe book.  

The text is old and withered with the occasional dash of sprawling spidery script painting the margins.  (Said writing is utterly illegible–you’re actually not sure if it’s in a language you can read, though if you squint you think you can see something that looks like the word ‘cake’.)  The page it’s opened to is ripped in half, rendering precious steps of the recipe lost to time.  You spot a mysterious bite mark piercing through the corner of the leather cover.

And can’t stop yourself from surreptitiously glancing over at Vere.  He’s moved on from the batter (which looks as lumpy as it did a minute ago) and is now eating skewers of raw fish with his nails.

“You’re not supposed to eat while you cook,” you say, the time worn words out of your mouth before you can examine your personal stance on them.

“Says who?  Some limp dick?  No shame in indulging, pet.”

“You’re not even gonna have anything left to cook,” you warn.

“Hum, sounds like my sous chef should get to work covering them in batter instead of just standing there before I eat them all.”

You roll your eyes, but follow through with instructions.  The space is unfamiliar and your movements are slow and unsure with Vere looming over you from his perch on high, watching.

One of the pans of oil gives an ominous pop.  “Hmm, sounds like it’s hot enough,” says Vere.  “Move over.”

“Is that safe?”

“For me,” Vere says simply.  “And it’s faster.  Now stand further back or you'll get splattered–and not in the fun way.”  Idly, he tosses a batter covered filet into the shallow pan.  The resulting hiss makes you both cringe.

As if on queue, the hourglass for the tea gives a gentle chime, lighting up with a golden glow.  (You’re beginning to wonder how this humble shop can afford all these magical items, but then again this is the city of secrets.  You’re probably better off not knowing.)  Vere’s ears perk up, pleased.  He tosses the remaining fillets in the pan without a fuss, setting lids on top of each to contain the oil, acting as if doing so is going to stop any potential disaster.

Main course forgotten, he moves on to digging something out from inside one of the many cupboards.  “Be a dear and cut this for me, will you?”  He hands you a delicate peach before heading to the tea pot, stirring the contents and adding what must be a priceless amount of honey.

The peach in your hand is overripe but still vibrant–amazing, as you haven’t seen fresh fruit at all since you came to Eridia.  Your mouth waters anew as you remember what led you here in the first place–your quest for a meal–and you’re almost tempted to take a bite, follow Vere’s advice and sink your teeth in.

“My, my.  I’m almost jealous.  I thought you only looked at me like that.”

Vere shushes the denial from your lips, bossing you around regarding how he wants the peach sliced before shooing you out of his way and finishing his remaining tea preparations,with the look of an artist at work.  The tea is a warm oolong color, made only more alluring once the infusion of peach is complete.

It’s refreshing, too, once Vere serves it to you over ice.

You can almost ignore the great plumes of smoke coming from the oven.

Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say, he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere.  Still, there’s a rhythm to it–a dance, though he leads you in expected loops and turns, changes the tune at a moment's notice.  He’ll get bored of the task at hand and find some new spice to peruse, demand you taste test an ingredient or give your opinion on a dizzying new flavor he’s concocted.

(He manages to convince you to sample a bit of cucumber soup from the cold box.  You retch, proclaiming it salty, downing another glass of delicious peach oolong–

“I can still taste it in the back of my throat…!”–and he cackles wildly.)

Thick locks of hair are falling out of his up-do by the time he’s satisfied, framing his face and bringing your attention, again to the inviting line of his clavicle.  He tosses his loose hair over his shoulder, preening.

The recipe book is basically ruined, and the pasta is null and void, but some of the fillets look mildly edible.  The artful garnish is beautiful, at least.  The kale and orange slices really bring out the crispy burnt bits.  Vere seems to enjoy plating the food a great deal, humming and rearranging and circling the display until he deems it arranged to perfection.

He’s elegant when he takes a bite, biting down with a crunch.  His tail goes very still for a moment, then shivers microscopically as he chews.  He swallows in a manner that you can only describe as dignified, dabbing his lips with a napkin.  You wait in anticipation, but Vere says nothing for a long time.  Then, he quietly takes the old recipe book and throws it away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t insist on you trying it too.

You end up snacking on some of the pre-made goods, drinking the remaining tea and lounging at one of the shop’s cozy little tables.  The mood is light and easy, and the view is magnificent.  Outside, there’s nothing but trash littered streets and urchins, but inside…the afternoon glow coming from the window illuminates Vere like a sunset, painting him in dazzling shades of gold and red and bronze.

Vere hums, peering at you pointedly through his sooty lashes.  “So, dessert?”

You can’t imagine the look that comes across your face–whatever it is, it makes Vere laugh.

“What are you giving me that look for?  My intentions are pure.” His voice is a masterclass in syrupy false-innocence.  “As clean as Leander’s bed sheets after–”

“Please don’t finish that sentence and give me any mental images,” you beg.  “I have to sleep there tonight, I’d rather not know.”

“Ignorance is bliss.”  Vere agrees, closing his eyes and appearing to bask in the sun for a moment.  His face does something that you don’t quite catch–some hidden expression–but then, he’s smiling easily.  He must really be relaxed if he can still smile seconds after thinking about Leander.  You’re still admiring him when the shadows against the walls flicker, and suddenly he isn’t sitting next to you any more.

Instead, he’s returning from the kitchen, a tray in hand.

He sets it down in front of you, revealing an assortment of strawberries and an ornate silver porringer of what appears to be melted chocolate.  Vere sets it down on the table, plucking the small dessert spoon from the chocolate once he’s seated across from you again.

“Occasionally, life does offer up something sweet to savor–only for those willing to go out and take it.”  His tongue darts out to lick the chocolate off the spoon in his hand.  He maintains eye contact as his tongue laves across the basin and–embarrassingly–you think you get a little lightheaded from the intensity with which your blood rushes to your face.  The crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you that he know exactly where your mind has gone.

Setting the spoon down, Vere instead picks up a bare strawberry, leaning in closer to press it gently to your mouth.

The chocolate is overly bitter–a little burnt, perhaps, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you’re tasting the remnants of it on Vere’s lips.

(Before leaving, you plop a few coins down on the counter as payment.  You brought enough to cover your food…but definitely not enough to cover the mess in the kitchen.  There’s really nothing you can do about that.  

You hope you don’t get blacklisted.  You’d like to come back next Monday.)

Hope you enjoyed if you made it this far! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[skeletonenthusiass]

some dust sans graphics and icons would be pretty nice since i can’t seem to find any- have a nice day/night

Dust Sans Graphics + Icons

[ * F2U W REBLOG. ] [ * ICONS + ALTS UNDER CUT. ] [ * THIS GRAPHIC WAS MADE FOR RENTRY . ] — ART CREDITS. [* 1 . ] - [ * 2 . ]

Dust Sans Icons.

Alternate Dividers.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

At a certain point blaming the school system for failing to teach you every fact becomes an excuse to absolve yourself from learning on your own time as an adult. Maybe you had bad teachers and curricula, maybe you never did the assigned reading, maybe you were taught propaganda, but it’s okay to start now. It’s okay to learn geography from online games. It’s okay to get entry level books from the library on a subject. It’s okay to explore Wikipedia and other reputable websites as a start. You can learn as an adult. You should continue learning as an adult.

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[voghe]

AESTHETIC TWITTER BIOS

‘ 𝗗͟𝗘͟𝗩͟𝗜͟𝗟͟ ⠀𝘪𝘯⠀ 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦. ⠀﹑i am terrified by this 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 inside of me.

❪ 🔪 ❫ 𝕹𝐄𝐖 𝕸𝐀��𝐈𝐀𝐒 𝕾𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐃

𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘊𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘚𝘐𝘕 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘋𝘌𝘚𝘐𝘙𝘌

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(blank space)

❛ 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐈'𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

⠀⠀ mamba.⠀⠀⠀negra.

﹙𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 + 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍﹚

❝ FILLED WITH POISON BUT BLESSED WITH BEAUTY & RAGE. ❞

❛ 𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗔 𝗡𝗘𝗚𝗥𝗔'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌 𓆗 

› 𝑓𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋.

a 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒆 in her chest where a 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 would 𝓯it perfectly. 

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ white snake

 ⠀𓆙 a rider. a leader. a 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏.

 ❪ 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 ❫

⠀⠀ ᅠㅤ𝑆𝑜𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑒. 

𝐼𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑦 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙; 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑒. 

 (⠀ 𝗕̵𝗥̵𝗜̵𝗚̵𝗔̵𝗗̵𝗜̵𝗘̵𝗥̵ ⠀)

﹟ “ i'm 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 over the 𝐄 𝐕 𝐈 𝐋⠀” 

( ⋆ ˖ ࣪ ) ▰

 ꗃ،، ❝ 𝗐𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. ❞

© V O G H E ≛ like or reblog if you save/use

[dollysmoods]

ₐₗᵢcₑ ᵢₙ Wₒₙdₑᵣₗₐₙd ₕₑₐdₑᵣ ₊ ₛₜₐₘₚₛ//cᵤₜ ₒᵤₜₛ

[novlr]

Save formatting for last

Try to avoid formatting while you’re drafting — it’s a distraction.

Your first draft will never look the same as your final one, so formatting takes you away from the important business of writing. For many writers, it’s the reason they struggle to get words on the page.

[miodiodavinci]

im being so so brave but also i am gripping you by the shoulders and leaning in and letting you know i am so tired of being brave

[kutyozh]

I've shared this podcast before but every time I listen to it I get so delighted by linguists hyping each other up and getting excited talking about their area of interest I feel compelled to share it again skdjfhghj