#Writan

[crash-hawk]

i couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song 👀?

A gift oneshot that I'm working on for a friend! I can't spoil who's in it or what it's about just yet, alas.

[crash-hawk]

GASP I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN!! (Tagged by @chrysalizzm) I am attempting to tie up my dusty-ass loose ends in the Kaleidoscope AU so most of these WIPs are to that end: Color Wheel ch. 18: there's still cobwebs in the corners (and the backyard's full of bones) As Days Go By (The Night's On Fire) ch. 2: rise up to meet it, o sleeper awake As Days Go By (The Night's On Fire) ch. 3: separation anxiety Voices ch. 3: let it all out Voices ch. 4: there's no one you can trust (so leave them all for dust) Oneshot (?): find our treasure in the light of the sun (and show the whole world who we are) Oneshot: i couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song Tagging: @oceans-swim @herethereverywhere @bananasofthorns @ohsnappers

tagged by @lookinghalfacorpse!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

i have. more wips than advisable. but i narrowed it down to oneshots exclusively

all surrender ends in blood

ill-gotten gains

crash course

cried more leaving you than leaving god

world gone quiet

the longest night

thorns

tagging.. @tea-with-veth @lunarblazes @crash-hawk @pixelperfunctory @appleflavoredkitkats @prismartist and @quaranmine!!

[jvrpvz]

Escribe Émile Benveniste (Last Lectures : Collège De France 1968 and 1969, p. 113):

En Homero, gráphō significa simplemente «rasguñar», «raspar» [«rascar», «rayar»], «cortar [rasguñar] la carne» (p. ej., Ilíada XVII, 599). Luego, «cortar una piedra para dejar una huella [una traza]». Hay una vaga alusión a la existencia de la escritura en un pasaje (Ilíada VI, 169 y 178) en el que Homero relata [retraza, esboza] la historia del héroe Belerofonte. El rey de Argos ha enviado a Belofonte hasta los licios, un pueblo del Asia Menor, con una tablilla «con los pliegues cerrados» en la que estaban grabados (graphein) funestos signos (sēmata lugra) portadores de un mensaje fatal (sēma kakon). El rey de los licios, de hecho, recibía [en tal mensaje] la orden de ejecutar a Belofonte. Se sabe que una parte del mundo helénico tenía escritura, pero los aqueos y los troyanos no sabían leer ni escribir. - También en latín: scribō significa «raspar», «rasguñar» [«rasguñar», «raspar», «rayar», «rayonear»]. - En alemán moderno, schreiben, en gótico, meljan (compárese con el alemán malen, «pintar» [«retratar», «pincelar»]): «ennegrecer, ensuciar» (griego melas «ensuciar de color»). Implica trazos pintados. Ya no se trata de grabado, sino de pintura. - En nórdico, rita --en inglés antiguo, writan-- significa «tallar» [«esculpir», «cincelar», «tallar»].

- En eslavo, tomado a préstamo del iraní pisati, tiene el sentido de «escribir»

- En persa antiguo, dipi- es el término que denomina a la «inscripción». Y el término para «escribir» es totalmente independiente. Se compone del preverbio ni- y la raíz pis-. Ni- indica el proceso que se lleva a cabo por «descenso», «inscribir»; y -pis indica el proceso de «pintar, pinchar» (compárese con la técnica del tatuaje). La raíz fue tomada del eslavo antiguo y el verbo se relaciona etimológicamente con el latín pingō, «dibujar, pintar». También se examinan los elementos de la escritura, las letras:

- En griego, gramma deriva de gráphō, pero el origen de litera sigue siendo desconocido.

- El competidor de gramma es biblos, y para cualquier documento escrito, biblion. Biblos o bublos es el nombre del material, papiro, y Bublos es el nombre de una ciudad fenicia, un gran centro de exportación de papiro. Pero nada en estos términos se relaciona con el acto de escribir.

- En germánico, la traducción de estos términos da: para el gótico, boka «letra», bokos «libro». En alemán, Buch, el nombre del haya (Buchenwald «bosque de hayas»), se relaciona con el latín fagus y el griego phagos, según la región, la «haya» o el «roble». Aquí también la primera significación es una tablilla de corteza: el soporte material se ha convertido en el nombre del objeto escrito.

[best-ghoul]

Talking writan in the chat.

[lunaremy]

in the mood for some WRITAN

[444names]

the entire article on the adlam script from wikipedia + estonian male forenames

Aanotte Aardit Aarno Abeted Ableksa Ables Abletinot Acribette Additing Adifined Adlabdo Adlang Adlati Adoterted Adoublock Adoweelo Ahimen Aimand Aleminer Alibe Alifing Alkulowely Allation Alphappo Amony Amzationst Andronaleks Anini Ansock Anteren Anworme Anwoulught Apected Arendin Arilay Arnot Asand Barefies Begin Beteet Bhaborm Bhapeelos Bleftental Bortes Botte Broseduarvo Buterilan Caper Capeseve Cater Chabic Chapply Chrativo Clame Claniseve Cloweeted Clowinant Codized Comply Computenu Cones Consondre Corme Corronso Culaboth Culdised Culock Curce Curmena Dayɗe Deleñol Delock Deriki Dertass Dharno Dhasal Diati Difineses Difing Diger Dittan Djaki Djaks Dothes Doubleand Dounni Drabdop Dralkular Drects Dreganned Droive Edevers Edized Eenedu Eetwel Effere Efick Eftest Eikes Enased Endrowevers Ented Enter Erimaived Ersimpunic Erteducate Eurowel Excla Exclamza Exclanym Exclat Exclati Exclayɗe Exclo Eyearkes Feritersime Follationer Folly Folver Fores Forry Forterent Forts Fouldis Founcted Fourvo Fronstan Fross Fulanym Ganda Gbethert Genotevish Glood Glook Glyphabdo Gnamzat Gnanstly Gnase Guany Guaripts Habloper Hamod Hapic Harno Hatia Haticoson Heines Hersimage Hicriati Hinguar Hypha Hyphamza Hyphrober Hyphrostav Indrotte Inedu Inerstan Inesed Inestal Iniges Inother Ipardic Ipter Ishater Ithere Itioneasepa Jaake Jaaking Jaannits Jaarek Jaarn Jaarvow Joided Joing Joosed Jooses Jooss Juagined Juhable Jukulame Jukulationg Jukule Jukus Jukusent Jürigit Jürilaid Jürimaras Kaado Kaadop Kaaksaliks Kaand Khang Kposock Kused Kusengtha Lamzalku Lations Lauppectur Layɗe Leannis Leford Leksaines Leksases Lemet Lenthey Leters Lettano Leñollay Lifing Likhateric Liking Linicasa Loninicas Lonsoule Lothe Lowelypha Lowers Macep Maconin Madlamonly Madlandight Madlaties Maged Magembeging Magently Maginely Maimpleñol Manish Manunds Maracrikh Maricapit Marituning Marvol Mater Mation Mayea Micasa Micat Milan Milat Minerst Minki Minned Moder Modige Moneass Mosed Moses Mosimanot Mulame Muleneripar Muleñolly Mundu Munnean Munnis Naged Nalpha Namonight Nanstak Nasalkuse Nasep Natic Natier Natinedgang Nationy Nerater Nigede Nusent Onage Onely Onerks Onges Onind Onsof Onsonda Opeope Oplaber Oplate Orrothen Ostans Otharn Ounnics Parawn Parkesepa Pecia Pecial Pecte Pedific Peely Peopmen Pheits Phenandel Pheng Pichabegits Picrilard Pitioni Prable Practesta Preaki Pregarke Prilareks Promet Promple Proth Protter Quesenesen Questaki Raconturry Raidedgant Randares Rectemiles Reffer Refor Regany Relot Rendifing Rentick Repare Rikhanned Ripts River Ronages Ronelson Rotten Runne Runnighand Sagesed Saing Samodialikh Samza Sasen Scrilacte Scrit Scrober Scrom Scrop Scrother Scrotters Sculaivo Seemed Senandi Sendified Sevelopes Severel Sevis Shandir Shapeopleks Shilypha Simationted Simeting Similyph Sionati Souncial Soundrobely Sparno Speopplek Sponalphra Sporrep Stable Staldis Stall Sticale Stinvo Stion Stiven Stopeen Suppects Supplars Suppo Suppong Supps Syllaivo Syllausa Sylly Systableñol Syste Tablotted Tabot Talock Tassion Tation Tatione Taupps Taused Thablek Thanned Thasang Thein Theit Theme Thems Thente Theral Therawn Thesponly Thilaupps Thimareks Toidu Toivel Tookin Toppost Tratina Tration Tuang Turce Turcep Tuter Unitinals Upostly Uppers Upple Urawing Uronly Ursion Usaldek Uscrialdely Ustion Valderen Valkulooso Vally Vandra Vowed Vowelower Vowesen Wasaimeders Wasame Wasan Wased Wasen Wever Whinu Wingers Witicassou Words Wormette Wounly Wounnea Wricas Wriparts Wript Writan Wriveduark Yearrom Yhasallowed

[sticksoffire]

I have a longstanding problem with self proclaimed Christians bc they say Jesus said to hate your life if you want to have eternal life but then they don't believe it when it's written in the book but what they will never tell you is that "writan" means to rip and tear

People lie and hate themselves bc they want to change but think that loving your self is looking for flaws in other people and your self. But u should hate your life bc becoming something else is the next step to being who you're supposed to be

[discopolice]

surprise, fuckers, six years later i’m still writing shortfic about qilby

[crash-hawk]

 Last Line WIP Game

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

I was tagged by the lovely and talented @ruffboijuliaburnsides

Since I'm working on several Kaleidoscope WIPs (plus my Hermbimas gift fic but that's a secret) simultaneously atm, y'all get four for the price of one:

From Rise Up to Meet It:

"Are there no survivors?" Scar asks, frowning.

False glances back out over the wreckage, an odd bitter fire sparking behind her eyes that Scar doesn't think he's ever seen before. "So far as we've found," she replies, "none."

From Separation Anxiety:

"That's for them to find out for themselves," Ren says gently. "You've loved them well and taught them well. Let them fly."

From You Know You're One of Us (There's No Escaping Us):

The librarian shrugs. “I told you. This is my place. Someone’s got to keep the books, make sure the roof doesn’t fall in under all that snow. Besides, you’re not the first to come here seeking him out, nor will you be the last. They drift in by ones and twos every few years, looking for a deal with destiny. Some even find it.” A queer chill runs through her that has nothing at all to do with the frigid arctic air. A deal with destiny? she thinks. Or a deal with the Devil?

From Color Wheel ch. 18: Now I'm Trapped Within Your Walls (And All I Want is to Be Free)

"February," Wilbur answers, but the second the word leaves his mouth he knows it's wrong."

Tagging @bananasofthorns, @oh-snapperss, @oceans-swim, and @ofthedragon YOUR MOVE <3

[plotdesigner]

Rules: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic/original/anything!) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

Many years ago, the Hobgoblin was a young man; but it was far many more years back than you would expect, for wizards like him live many times longer than anyone else. He had settled in a human kingdom over the mountains from Moomin Valley, and the only thing deeper than the snow that fell upon the kingdom every winter was the love the Hobgoblin had for the king of this country.

[kforourke]

“The neurotic inhibition of productivity in creative writers”

The English word “writer” comes to us, of course, from the verb “write,” which is from Old English’s writan, "to score, outline, draw the figure of," and before that the Proto-Germanic for “tear, scratch.” As the Online Etymology Dictionary notes,

Words for "write" in most Indo-European languages originally mean "carve, scratch, cut" (such as Latin scribere, Greek graphein, glyphein, Sanskrit rikh-).

For its part, the verb form of “block,” in the sense of “hinder,” is rooted in Old French’s bloc for “log, block of wood.”

So then writer’s block is when a block of wood...prevents one from scratching or outlining something? Huh?

That hardly makes sense, but maybe that’s because the term writer’s block itself, again per the Online Etymology Dictionary (it really is indispensable), is much more recent: it was only first used in the late 1940s.

Namely, Dr. Edmund Bergler published a body of work on the subject, including the book The Writer and Psychoanalysis and the paper “Does “Writer’s Block” Exist,” in which he rebutted various arguments brought forth by the “negators” of his idea.* Dr. Bergler, who was born in 1899 in Austria died in New York in 1962,** was a Freudian psychoanalyst best known for his work on homosexuality and...for coining the term “writer’s block.”

Which he defined in an appropriately Freudian manner, thusly:

The unproductive writer exhausts his psychic energy in creating an unconscious alibi of pseudoaggression while retaining the unconscious wish to be refused by the pre-oedipal mother. The productive writer autarchically eliminates mother and he, himself, gives and receives ideas and words (milk).***

More than seventy years on, this seems rather silly; I’ve been blocked. Badly at times. I know it’s not Oedipal. I do think Bergler may have been onto something when he generally defined writer’s block as a “neurotic inhibition of productivity,” but to equate the reception (assuming words are *received* at all) with mother’s milk is, ah, a stretch.

At any rate, my problem now, as the mere existence of this post shows, isn’t writer’s block per se, but being...stuck. But not stuck in everything: only the long stuff. To wit: I’ve got a 3/4 finished work of nonfiction (my suicide investigation), a much more in-progress bildungsroman of a novel that I doubt I’ll ever finish, and at least one poetry manuscript that may or may not be full-length but could also just be a chapbook. These things, especially the mostly-written suicide book, loom in my psyche. I feel taunted, sometimes, by their very existence.

But I *have* been writing, lots in fact, and maybe that’s the problem? The more articles and reviews one publishes, the more one falls behind on the big stuff? Maybe that’s it? But that also feels inadequate and unfair; things like writing shouldn’t have to exist at the expense of others. So I’ll keep pressing on. To start, I’ll stop reading seventy-year-old Freudian research articles.

And now here’s Sonic Youth’s “Skip Tracer,” which may be my favorite Sonic Youth song. “none of us know / where we’re trying to get to / what sort of life / what we’re trying to build”

...

Notes:

Header image of the Stanford Prison Experiment via Wikimedia Commons. Why the Stanford Prison Experiment? Well, like writer’s block, sorta, the SPE was a psychological phenomenon, if a flawed one.

*This article appeared in American Imago, volume seven number one, March 1950.

**One wonders how many people born in Europe around the turn of the century eventually died in the United States, specifically in New York. The number must be amazing.

***Descriptive quote from an abstract of Bergler’s The Writer and Psychoanalysis (1950); I couldn’t find the actual book, since it seems to be out of print

As noted, all etymological references**** are via the Online Etymology Dictionary, one of the very best websites.

****As the start of this piece indicates, I find etymological inquiry, as dorky and convoluted as it might be, to be a useful way to clear one’s throat. Which word, “throat,” comes from the Old English for swell.

[ghostvoi]

cracks knuckles

Alright, I’m back from my unannounced writing hiatus. Couldn’t stand to read my own writing for a bit, but taking time away from stuff like that always makes that phenomenon better. (And I always seem to switch from doing a lot of art to doing a lot of writing in, like, six months turns where I can’t stand to look at/read the other, so, we’ll see what happens.)

In any case, all this means I’ll be working on writan’ stuff over drawing stuff for a little while.

[crash-hawk]

#the joy i feel when someone reblogs one of my fics#reblogs with tags are a precious gift#second only to comments on the actual ao3 post#oooooh but a close competitor is asks#just. interaction. it's writer fuel <3 

"reblog art" includes writing

[discopolice]

starfu

There is no gravestone for the Mechasms. This may be because it was not in their nature to build graves, only to build new members of society. This may be, though, because they died alone - only remembered by a civilization that, too, met its inevitable end. Regardless, the rock they once called home still spins around its sun, undeterred by the lack of life upon it. There is a city at its equator, all broken mirrors and crumbling I-beams and metal shells; twenty miles out, there is a figure resting in the greyish-brown ground.

Once, this was a Mechasm. Perhaps it was one of the grandest, the most noble, at one time. Now, it lies half-covered in rocky soil, a mottled patina of green covering the few areas that haven't rusted over. There is a hole wasting in its chest, around the waist-joint, large enough to reach into and grab a handful of earth from inside - large enough to rip out its heart, if it were to have one. The tubes and wires are snapped, eroded, otherwise terminated. Remnants of gears and springs poke like sprouts from the ground, but not a hint of blood.

Within this cavity, someone has placed a cube - some transient visitor, leaving a gift to this civilization that will never be able to accept it. Anyone familiar with the glyphs inside Mount Zinit would recognize this cube, although those familiar with the glyphs inside Mount Zinit are a dying breed themselves. (An unremarkable feature on a planet that has since laid down to rest - just like this, just like this landscape here.) It is dimmer than it once was - you cannot take from which there is nothing to take. Perhaps it is fitting for an artifact forged by a traitor, an artifact which sucked wakfu endlessly under the pretense of ambition, that it rests where it can sap no more. Sand has battered its surface, wearing its spirals smooth; water from the recent rain beads atop the metal, orange with rust, blue with a wakfu fingerprint like a distant memory.

The soil, though, is richer under this Mechasm's shell.  From the holes in its skull, aperture-like eyes that will never see again, a vine has begun to wind out - an orbit around the nose-bridge, one under its chin, as though urging this dead soul don't look so down. There's hope.

Around it, for now - lone and level sands.

[chaorelance]

HEY BUN MY TIMED REMINDER WENT OFF SO I'M REMINDING YOU AGAIN TO DO THE WRITAN

also oh fuck right i remember, I WILL TRY TOMORROW, SINCE I WILL NOT BE DYING THEN.

[crash-hawk]

WIP Title Game

Tagged By: @redwinterroses

the rules: list the titles of your WIPs, whatever they look like. please make a new post instead of adding on to this one.

the game: your followers (or whomever!) may ask for snippets from any WIP and/or they can ask a question about any of them - without knowing anything more than the titles!  

My Titles: as days go by (the night’s on fire) - 01: Separation Anxiety - 02: Wildflowers - 03: Cease Fire - 04: Dionaea Voices - 01: you know you’re one of us (there’s no escaping us) - 05: know thyself (know thy enemy) Heterotroph (oneshot) Color Wheel ch. 18: now I’m trapped inside your walls (and all I want is to be free)

Tagging: @bananasofthorns @kiwinatorwaffles @exactlymypoint @yarasflor @eggbloom