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#also i've never done image descriptions before so if i did it wrong or anyone has pointers feel free to tell me!
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[Image description: A four panel comic. In the first panel, someone asks a very muscular person, "Wow! How did you get like that?" In the second and third panels, the muscular person says, "Every time I'm tempted to post my Whumptober writing early, I do one pushup." In the fourth panel, the less muscular person says, "Jesus Christ." /end description]
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always-andromeda · 4 months
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𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,685
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ A lull in your relationship with Javi leads to some revelations about both of your interests.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ so this was a new one for me. this piece is part of @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge for May and my pairing was Javi G with impact play. I am happy to report that I enjoyed researching this more than I thought I would? I found some really interesting kink blogs that kind of walked me through safe practices and it started to paint the picture in my mind that would become this fanfic. big disclaimer: I've never practiced impact play in real life. my depiction of it comes primarily from the research I've done and what I know of my own personal preferences and I've tried my best to depict a healthy dynamic. so if I'm getting something wrong or I'm depicting anything in an unhealthy way, feel free to let me know!! divider credits go to @saradika-graphics!!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), impact play, oral (female receiving), aftercare, pet names (hermosa, baby), reader is given no physical description aside from being able bodied, allusions to past negative experiences with sex (nothing specific is described), a little bit of soft!dom/switch Javi, please let me know if any more are needed!
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It’s not that you weren’t satisfied with Javi. The sex had almost always been fine. Hell, most times it was fantastic; better than anything you’d had before. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between you and him. You’d always adore him and the beautiful life you’d built with him by the sea in Mallorca. 
At first you thought it might have been the passing of time that spurred this particular…yearning. After all, don’t most couples go through these patches after a few years? But it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t a fleeting desire. Days passed and you kept going back to the same blog: Impact Play For Beginners.
The first time you’d stumbled across it, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were looking for ways to spice things up with Javi. But it didn’t seem like him. As your eyes flitted over images of paddles, whips, and canes, all you could think of was how uncomfortable he’d most likely be. The idea of that turned you off, of course.
But you didn’t stay off for very long at all.
Perhaps it was the fact that he felt so safe that made the idea so enticing to begin with. You’d never been with anyone who approached sex as healthily as Javi did. He’d always been fervent with his desires. At the same time, he’d never made you feel like you had to do anything. There was always foreplay, regular check-ins, aftercare, and the ability to say no to whatever, whenever.
It was refreshing. Relieving. And that’s what made it so rough, thinking about possibly bringing something new into the equation. But, Javi had always been big on communication. You trusted that the same principles would apply here. So that’s why you brought it up.
Javi had been open but hesitant about it. At face value, this kink really wasn’t his style. He favored a softer approach. He couldn’t imagine laying a hand on you and causing any sort of harm. But in all honesty…the idea excited you.
The more you looked into it, the more you began to draw some hard lines in the sands of your mind. First and foremost, no toys. As exciting as a crop looked, you weren’t sure if you were prepared for that. At least not yet. For now, you were sticking with the advice of various kink blogs you’d scrolled through and starting off with hands only. Not only were those the instruments that piqued your interest in the first place, they also put you the most at ease. It felt poetic somehow; his usually gentle hands delivering both pleasure and pain this time.
Another aspect you started to delve into were on and off limit body parts. That was the moment Javi set a boundary of his own. “Nothing with your face. I’m not touching your gorgeous face, hermosa,” he’d said with the softest puppy dog eyes. And you didn’t argue. You weren’t feeling comfortable with that either. 
No, you’d start out in the safest zones possible, the places that would be least likely to get injured: your ass and thighs. 
Then came the scheduling. You both agreed on a weekend night just so there was an adequate amount of time for recovery before either of you had to worry about work.
You stand in front of the vanity mirror in your bedroom. Part of you feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff as you stare at the lingerie clad figure being reflected back at you. With the night that’s ahead of you, you figured it’d be safest to wear something you’re familiar with sans the bottoms for easier access. It’s a simple chemise that’s comfortable enough, yet it hugs your body in a way that you know both you and Javi enjoy. You try to focus on that thought as you think.
The most reassuring part is that you aren’t afraid. As much as you’d wanted this, you’d also wondered if you would be. Instead you’re all raw nerves. And the electricity thrumming from them only calms when Javi appears in the mirror behind you.
You watch his dark eyes trace over your body in the mirror. It’s a sight he’s seen probably hundreds of times at this point, yet he still looks like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you.
“You are so beautiful, hermosa,” Javi breathes out in genuine awe. “Gorgeous.”
Your cheeks warm at the dose of flattery.
Javi’s hands start at your shoulders and you relax into them. The heels of his palms knead the muscles that seem to be perpetually knotted up. You close your eyes and picture that taut tissue slowly and carefully unwinding itself. A small sigh escapes you. It sows hope within you knowing that he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone for this. But it also brings you comfort; he’ll always take care of you just like this. 
“Are we doing okay, so far?” Javi mumbles.
You stifle a small laugh and the urge to say, “We’ve barely started anything.”
Because you know this is new for him. You try to remember that you’re new at this too. Don’t go too far, too fast. Pace yourself, you say internally.
“We’re alright,” you finally assure him.
“Promise me you’ll use your safe word if you need to.”
You meet his gaze in the mirror. He eyes you with furrowed brows and his lips in a thin line. His hands still work at your shoulders; work you into the most soothing rhythm that makes you want to fall asleep. But the fire that fills your bones makes you feel more alive than ever.
You nod and then turn to face him. “I will. I promise.”
Your hands find his cheeks and cup them. In that moment you’re holding your entire world. And you’re trusting him to fulfill some of your most vulnerable fantasies.
Your lips meet his and it all starts to fall together. He’s warm and tastes vaguely of citrus. His hands land on the globes of your ass and he gives them a good squeeze. A moan slowly rises in his throat. If there was one thing you knew Javi was looking forward to, it was paying more attention to that part of you. Besides, there was no way you could miss the way he looked at the pictures on one of the kink blogs you’d scrolled through together. Shots of a woman’s back. Bright red marks in the shape of a hand on her ass. 
His eyes had been so wide, simply staring at them as you read through tips for beginners.
“You wouldn’t want marks like that…would you?” he’d asked then. 
The note of hopefulness in his voice was palpable. He’d never been good at concealing his emotions, especially around you.
“I don’t know…maybe,” you’d replied coyly before admitting, “I kind of like the idea of it. Of having that reminder of you.” As if everything else wasn’t enough. As if you needed to see the evidence of his love represented by blemishes on your skin. That was the thing about Javi though, his whole being was so infectious. You needed him to inhabit every part of your life. You needed to see his handprints on you like you needed to breathe.
Anticipation sends a shiver up your spine as you lay on your stomach along the foot of the bed you share with him. Propped up on your elbows, you arched your back in order to better present your ass to him.
He takes a moment to lean over your form. You already feel a bit of a bulge poke the back of your thighs. At least he’s starting to enjoy himself, you grin.
“Are you ready to begin?” Javi asks. You hum absently only to be met with a brief pause before he adds, “Words, hermosa. Words.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, voice raised louder this time. You don’t see his expression, but you can imagine the way it stutters based on the silence that follows.
Javi thankfully doesn’t leave you with too much time to second guess yourself before you hear his chuckle, “Very good job. I’m already so proud of you.”
He stands again and continues gentle ministrations on your upper thighs. Once again you feel as though you could simply fall asleep. And there’s something secure in feeling like you could. You’re safe. 
A pleasant flush builds on the surface of your skin. You can feel the blood coursing through your veins as Javi warns, “I’m going to give you the first strike. Then we’ll go from there, alright?”
“Alright. I’m ready,” you affirm. And you mean it.
A few seconds later, you feel a light slap on your ass. It’s almost playful. And it doesn’t satisfy the craving within. You start to squirm, hoping to suppress some of the restlessness brewing in your chest.
“Easy, hermosa. Good girls stay patient,” Javi says. You’re not quite used to hearing such language come from him. But it’s perfectly in line with his desire to care for you. It’s how you feel confident that you’re both on the same page. He doesn’t want you overwhelming yourself either. So despite the soft start, you don’t feel any disappointment.
You do what you’re told and stay patient. 
The slaps don’t startle you until one leaves a particular sting that awakens a heartbeat in your core. For the moment it lives, it means everything to you. The initial jolt, along with that expectant throb, subsides a little too quickly for your liking. You fist the silk sheets beneath you just to find purchase in something.
“Keep going like that,” you whisper breathlessly, wanting to chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.
And Javi lets you. He slaps your ass once, twice, three more times and each one builds the heat that crackles along your flesh like thunderclaps. On the fourth slap you finally gasp a small, “Fuck.” You feel yourself clench around nothing. But Javi still groans as if he was inside you. 
“You like this, hm?” he growls.
“So fucking much,” you whimper.
Smack.
The impact is hard enough that it makes you jump. More importantly, you feel that throb once more. Your belly fills with butterflies as you start to realize that it’s fucking working for you. 
You try to imagine what you must look like from his point of view. Ass up, head bowed, gasping between blows. You bet that based on your position, from where he stands, he’s probably getting a peek at your cunt too. And if it looks anything like it feels, you’ve got to be glistening. You’ve got to have the most inviting look about you. And the fact that that vulnerability still doesn’t scare you…your head feels lost in the clouds.
You feel Javi’s fingers drag over the curve of your ass before they stop just short of your cunt. He says suddenly, “Fuck, I need you. I need to taste you. Please?” he begs. 
All you can manage is a whine along with a swift nod before rolling around on your back. Just as quickly, Javi is on his knees, dragging you down the bed by your ankles until he’s almost face to face with your cunt. You can feel just how swollen your lips are. And as he begins to lap at your slick, you know that you haven’t gotten this wet in a while. It fulfills something inside you that you hadn’t expected.
Your thighs and your ass burn, but it only adds to the pleasure gradually filling your belly. The pain and pleasure come together in a gorgeous harmony that has your hips rocking along against Javi’s mouth. His warm tongue fucks you as your clit rubs against his nose. It’s a classic position that’s only heightened with the knowledge that when you wake up in the morning, his handprints are going to be on your ass.
You’re shamelessly rutting against him now. Fingers knitted through his hair, you ride out the mounting pressure like you’ll die if you don’t. And Javi – being the pleaser he is – enjoys it. Between breaths, he groans, sending vibrations through you that seem to rattle your bones.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.
“Mhm,” Javi hums desperately. “Go ahead, you can get there, hermosa. Just use me, please.”
Tears start to slip down the sides of your temples. Flashes of all the men you’ve been with before fill your head. You think of all the times you weren’t in control. All the times you felt you didn’t have a say in what was going to happen to your own body. And those memories only remind you that none of that is true anymore. Right here and right now, you’re with Javi. And he’s indulged in something you would’ve been too afraid to express to anyone else. All he wants is to please you. And that only makes your tears flow faster.
You’re going to combust. Javi Gutierrez is going to make you fucking explode and you don’t even care. You’ve gotten yours. As long as he too gets to feel the impact of his kindness, you’re satisfied.
Just like that, the bomb goes off and you’re on fire as pleasure rips through you. You’re in pieces. Legs wrapped around Javi’s upper half, heels digging into the muscles of his back, and hands keeping him held in place; keeping what’s left of you together in a shaky embrace.
It takes a few seconds for the shock to melt away. Somehow you catch your breath and finally remove your hands from Javi’s curls to wipe away your tears. If you weren’t tired before, you’re exhausted now. More than the physical satisfaction, you couldn’t have foreseen the emotional release. 
Your ass and your thighs don’t quite hurt anymore. It’s more of a soft ache; a rolling wave you ride on until it passes, leaving your head floating in a placid ocean of bliss. This naturally comes with some swirls of catharsis and sentimentality. They both buzz in your mind and you're only distantly aware of it when Javi gets up to wet a washcloth.
When he returns, he cleans you up the way he always does. Asking if he’s alright to touch you in various places and letting you know before he does so you’re not startled. You pay just enough attention to hum in agreement as he carefully parts your thighs to wipe up the remnants of slick and spit. 
Javi finishes the job a minute or two later, leaving once more to add the washcloth to the laundry basket in your closet. Then you feel the mattress dip as Javi lays beside you, looking spent without even taking off a shred of his own clothing.
You return to your own mind for a moment. Enough to turn, lay on your side, and send him a worried look. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. Do you need me to take care of you?”
Javi laughs lightly, “No. It’s alright, hermosa. You don’t need to take care of anything for me.”
“Are you sure?”
A soft smile forms on his face. “You’re happy, right?”
You nod.
“Good. I’m happy too. We don’t need anything else.”
Javi tenderly places a hand on your lower back and pulls you a little closer towards his chest, his grin growing. “Besides, I can’t wait to see those marks in the morning.”
His expression is so contagious you can’t help but return it before placing a kiss on his nose. “Me neither,” you whisper. Within a few days those marks he most certainly left would start to take on a purple hue before fading into a yellowish undertone. The prospect of seeing that progression fills your stomach with butterflies once more. Surely you both prepared enough that they wouldn’t take long to heal. But that doesn’t bring you down in the slightest. Because as long as Javi is willing to, when those marks do go away, you and him get to make them all over again.
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Thank you so much for reading!! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging; it's massively appreciated!!
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So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".
Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.
But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).
AFTERSHOCKS
Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.
IF I FALL
Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?
But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.
You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.
Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.
Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.
Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.
Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).
A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.
I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.
PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.
JAVIER PEÑA
My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.
OCs
I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.
And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.
HANNAH AARONS
Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.
Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔
PARTING THOUGHTS
Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.
You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪
~
My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again. 
That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.
Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise! 
I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.
I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory. 
On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.
Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)
Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.
Mad love and soft hugs, 
~ Jay
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stealth-liberal · 3 years
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The Invention of Murder by Judith Flanders, I hope you can see the image I tried to post but since it's from google images, who knows. I tossed this book in the recycling bin before remembering to take a photo of it. Full disclosure, I did not like this book. It took me a little over four months to fail to finish this book, even though I forced myself to read some of it everyday. So, save your money and don't buy it.
The Invention of Murder is a non-fiction book about the British Victorian obsession with murder, violence and detection. The premise being that they essentially invented the detective fiction and true crime genres in the West and even more, murder as tourism and entertainment. Now, to Judith Flander's credit, she admits that this is only in the west, not the east. At no point does she even attempt to claim that the Victorians had anything to do with these genres as they are known in Asia and the Middle East.
This is all the credit I will give her. Now, lets move into why I very much disliked this book, shall we?
1. This book is long, very long. I no longer have it so I cannot tell you exactly how long, but very long. At first this was something I was excited about, to quote a coffee mug I saw once: "I like big books and I cannot lie." I eagerly dug in thinking this would be gaslight murder and mayhem and a lot of it.
Holy shit was I wrong.
Instead it was long and boring, nearly Dickensian in the overwrought descriptions. I know Flanders has made a living researching and writing about the Victorians, but honey, unlike them, you aren't paid by the word.
Each chapter would begin with a murder, the investigation, the trial and then the verdict. After that there was an exhaustive summary of every single broadside, pamphlet, newspaper article of note. Then after that, each and every book and novella based on the crime. You would think you were done, but NOPE. Then there was every single last play written that was based on said murder, how the performances went, who starred in them and how far from the actual events the plays and puppet shows got.
She managed to drag out murder in the gaslit and foggy streets of Victorian England to the point where it was boring as dirt. It was to the point where it was painful to slog through. I was truly surprised by this as I was by no means expecting this exciting of a subject to rendered so utterly boring.
2. When one immerses oneself into the study of an historical period, one needs to be careful not to pick up the prejudices of that period. Ms. Flanders was not that careful. It grew extremely distasteful reading her judgements of women who had children out of wedlock, it was even more distasteful when it became clear that she was going to use the term "bastard" to refer to those children. Who even uses that term anymore? It's entirely offensive!
Her effusive defense of all the men in this book was, uncomfortable at best and horrible at worst. It seemed like she honestly believed that these women (most of the victims are women and most of the killers are men) deserved to die because they were difficult and flouted the strictures of English Victorian society. Even when the women are falsely accused of a murder, as 2 women are in the poisoning chapter, she seems to think their execution isn't much of a tragedy.
She's also CLEARLY not that fond of Jewish people of that time period. As a Jewish woman I think you can all guess how I felt about that.
3. She cannot stop herself from using Victorian slang. Which would be fine and forgivable if not for two things. First: she did not include a glossary for any of these terms, so the reader has no idea what she's talking about unless they're already familiar. Second: after the other two infractions I've already covered, I was disinclined to cut her any slack on this.
In short, don't buy this book, don't waste your hard earned money. I would never recommend this to anyone.
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cho-sekiei · 8 years
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Ok, so, I had a question about your writing... but I've forgotten it. ^^; Actually, I probably had several questions. I guess one thing I was curious about was this: do you always plan out your fics before writing the prose, or do you play it by ear at all? (Personally, I just write whatever comes to mind until I start running out of steam, and then I plan. Probably not the best idea, I'm sure, but it's what I manage. XD; ) Also (if you know), what's your average words-per-hour? =]
First, feel free to ask if you remember that forgotten question at some point. And thank you for asking about all this today. I really enjoy talking about the writing process, so it’s lovely to be prompted.
As a disclaimer, I’ll say here though that this is my own experience with the craft and I’m not sure how it translates to somebody else’s. I’m not claiming to have access to some universal wisdom. But if this is interesting or useful for anyone, then great and I’m happy to answer further questions about it if there are any.
So do I plan things out when I write? In short, no.
There’s a Stephen King’s quote that goes like this:
“I have never felt like I was creating anything. For me, writing is like walking through a desert and all at once, poking up through the hardpan, I see the top of a chimney. I know there’s a house under there, and I’m pretty sure that I can dig it up if I want. That’s how I feel. It’s like the stories are already there.”
That’s probably the closest description of what writing is like for me.
Sometimes, I get an idea and it’s gripping but it’s just an image and it’s not ready. I tend to leave those alone for a while because I ‘see’ them but I don’t ‘know’ them yet. And it might never grow into anything, but more often than not, it keeps nagging at me until something clicks and it transforms into something more complex and alive that I can write about.
More often than a simple image though what I get is an interaction between characters, a whole scene. It’s not a story yet, but it’s there and it demands to be written. That’s the top of the chimney from King’s analogy. So I sit down and I write that because it’s the part I can see with clarity. And then either it flows from there because through writing it, I discover what happens after (or in some cases what has happened before) or it doesn’t. Probably what you mean with ‘running out of steam’. That happens naturally.
For a long time, I felt I had to push through this, try to plan, keep writing, painstakingly, through sheer force of will because if I did inspiration would come back at some point, right? Wrong. For me, at least, it doesn’t work that way. Similarly, I also thought that if that scene I could visualise so well was in the middle of a story I had a vague outline of, I needed to write my way to it from the start.

So anyway, what really helped me write and enjoy the writing process more, is giving up on linearity. I write the top of the chimney. But then, if it’s stuck and the sand surrounding it is not shifting, then I look around to that ruined section of wall a way away I notice earlier. And I go there instead. By that I mean, if it doesn’t feel right to continue writing the one scene because I don’t ‘know’ what happens next yet, I’ll stop and ask myself if there’s any other part of the story I’m clear about. Is there any that’s ready to be written? There usually is, but in a very different point of the storyline.Having an idea of what’s the story is like and knowing it are not the same thing. That feeling of ‘knowing’ part of a story is very difficult to describe. To write it properly, in a way that’s satisfying, having an idea is not enough. For me, at least.So yes, I will write scenes as they come without worrying about them being far apart in the timeline or about missing plot elements in the middle. Most of the time, it’s actually writing those far apart scenes that is going to make the in-between events clearer, what you write teaches you about what you haven’t written yet.
It is scary in a way if you’re not used to write like that because at first, it feels like the story is going to lose coherence and unity, that the plot is going to be disjointed and all over the place. But it’s a false problem. As a writer, the story is much clearer and complex in your head than what you’ll ever put on paper. The story is yours and as you link parts together, it just naturally falls into place with minimal editing.
I found working this way very freeing, because I get to write the bits I want to write when I want to write them. Even if I know nothing else about the rest of the events, if there’s a dialogue in my head or a situation that keeps on tugging at me, then I’ll go write that, no matter where else I was before. It’s rewarding and motivating. It’s spontaneous creation. Much more enjoyable than having to force yourself to power through. And usually the story ends up being better for it as well. Waiting until the right ideas come and morph into an intimate knowledge of the story means that nothing is a transition anymore, everything ends up flowing in place the way it should. There’s no more filler, just writing done at the right time.
The important bit here, I guess, is really the core of the quote above. I never feel like I am imagining or inventing the story, or that I have to ‘artificially’ find ways to make the plot work or more interesting. It’s like the story is there. It’s waiting half-hidden in shadows, and I just have to discover what it is by gently coaxing it to the paper one word at a time. It’s quite difficult to explain, but it’s how it feels. It’s not my story, it’s just coming into this plane of existence through the words. Yet, it’s already suspended there in the aether waiting for me to learn how to see it.
(Sorry… I warned you it’d be long… ^___^’’)
To answer your second question, I don’t really think about words per hour so much as words per day. I have an unspoken rule of writing at least 500 words a day, but most days I get somewhere between 1,500 and 3,000 words down. Sometimes in one sitting, sometimes in short bursts. The rest of my life doesn’t fit a routine at all, so I have to be flexible when I write and how long. If I’m drawn into the scene and engaged, I can write 500 words in less than half an hour. Particularly if it’s mostly dialogue driven, since that’s mostly me listening to the voices in my head and transcribing (yes, I know how it sounds, but it’s pretty much what it’s like. ^ ^). Some scenes are more labour intensive than others to get right and they just take longer for the same amount of words. But that kind of intense writing is not sustainable for long periods of time. Creativity needs breathing space in my experience. And obviously that doesn’t take into account editing time. I edit a lot as I go and several times afterwards. It’s part of the writing process and it’s time-consuming.
I guess I should mention I’m able to touch type at professional speed, so that helps.
Let me know if you want me to expand on what I think about word counts, and writing every day, and how to go about improving how much you write, etc. I’m happy to cover what I learnt from long, painful years of struggles and trial and error. But I think this is long enough for now.  ^ ^’’
Thank you for reading to anyone who made it this far. And thanks again, Eloarei, for asking.
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