#amwritng

[scriptwriters-network]

The only way to learn to write is to write.

— Peggy Teeters

[madlovenovelist]

How Have Streaming Services Changed Your Reading Habits?

DISCUSSION POST: The idiot box vs. the written word Remember the days when the television would be on in the background because you either have to get up off the couch and use the dial on the set to change the channel, or you lost the remote to that place where one of all your socks disappear to? Remember free-to-air television programming dominated with news and reality shows, or maybe those…

[longdariavampysilver]

^18^

It was the first time that have come closer to me, and with a shy way, he has told me: “They will organize everything perfectly. Will have already to all the options of the case, and you will see if we would have to face up to a group of creatures, we will be the winners. I have seen the creature that he has killed: i’ve met her days before, and it was really bigger than Will, and he has killed…

[schofillwrites]

Any form of writing that is intended to support a business or organization's operations and is addressed to both internal and external audiences inside the qualified writer's organization is considered professional writing.

[storyunrelated]

There’s a lot of buzzzzz around the town about this one, bee sure of that.

@flashfictionfridayofficial (Sweet surprise)

-

He was wheezing, but you wouldn’t have been able to make it out over the sound of the buzzing. The sound of the buzzing was deafening. It made the windows rattle, it made it hard to think.

Not that anyone was there to try and listen to how he was struggling to breathe, of course. The sheer number of bees filling the room would have deterred all but the most determined and the best equipped, and that was assuming anyone had known he was there in the first place, which no-one did.

He was alone. And he was full of bees.

This, really, was the cause of his woes. The human body was not made to accommodate bees. It could, in a pinch, perhaps contain one or two - swallowed by accident, maybe - or even a great deal more than one or two worn as a tasteful (and surprisingly heavy) beard, if you were down for that sort of thing.

But it was not made to be a hive, which is what he basically now was. His skin pockmarked with bee-sized entrances and exits, his nose and eyes dribbling honey, his interior spaces packed with honeycomb and tiny, writhing, buzzing bodies. By all accounts he shouldn’t even have still been alive.

And yet he was, as he had been for days now in this state, unable to stand, barely able to breathe, incapable of calling for help, ears full of buzzing and eyes fixed on a point some great distance away, seeing nothing.

At some point – it didn’t matter when, the room didn’t have a window and his watch was covered in bees  -  he managed, through supreme force of will, to raise a hand to his face, where it feebly rubbed some of the leaking honey away.

Experimentally, without giving it much thought, he stuck out his sting-swollen tongue and touched it to the honey, just because it was on his hand and was sticky and his mind was thick enough it seem the natural thing to do.

A pause. His hand dropped back to his side.

“Sweet…I’m sweet…” he said to himself before breaking into giggles.

Or at least as close to giggles as he could manage.

More twitching and hissing, really.

Hissing with a buzzing edge.

[talesfromgringolandia]

Bo and Shen Ch.2 - A Child's Longing

Inspired by this art by Ellysiumn, found on r/WritingPrompts

"You ever wonder what they are?"

Bo looked up from his book at Shen, who hung from the banister by her elbows, staring at the lights that barely drifted above the trees. "They always show up around this time o' year. It's hardly a novel occurrence," he replied.

"I know, I know, but what are they?" she sighed, sinking even deeper than before. Bo wasn't quite sure how her elbows supported her weight at that angle. "Every year, they float out of the swamp and light up the night. They're so pretty and we 'ave no idea what they are."

"Well, what do you think they are?" Bo prompted, flipping through his book. That should keep her going for a while.

"I don't know. Maybe they're some kind of plant that needs to spread their seeds, and so when the fruit fully grows they float away to look for a sunny hill." Shen stood up and began pacing the deck. "Maybe they're like rocks or something that floats around when the river tide is low! Or maybe they're eggs! Like, really really big insect eggs that need to get everywhere so that the entire species is never in one place! Or maybe those insects are really territorial and hate each other so much that they want to throw their eggs away as far as possible so that they never ever ever need to see another insect!"

She turned excitedly to Bo to see him calmly reading his book, and instantly deflated. "Yer not listenin', are yeh?"

"Somethin’ somethin’ rocks, somethin’ somethin’ insects," Bo recited without looking up. "Here, come look at this."

"At what?" Shen sat down on the arm of the chair and peered down at Bo's books.

"They're Relko eggs." On the paper was an illustration of one of the glowing ellipses that currently filled their view. Most of the page was taken up by text, which Bo proceeded to read aloud. "'A large reptile that lives in the trees. Relko are dangerous predators which prey upon fish and birds. Their habitat is swamp...' yada yada... 'the egg employs an incredibly exotic mechanism to protect the chick inside from predators, including adult relko. As summertime approaches and the eggs are about to hatch, they detach from their roots, where they are guarded by their mother, and float into the air. After a couple hours, the egg will open from the bottom, dropping the chick, hopefully onto some trees, where it will be able to hide and avoid predators.' So there ya go. They're a weird kind of egg."

"Wow," shen sighed in amazement. "So I was pretty close, huh? They do need to get away from each other, so they float away!" She leapt from the chair arm and tip-toed across the room, trying to imitate a floating egg. "That book’s actually pretty cool!"

"Amazing right?" Bo replied sarcastically. "We can actually learn things without riskin’ our lives."

Shen twirled around the balcony oblivious to Bo's remark. "We should get one."

"One what?"

"A relker."

"A-a what? Did you not hear the part about relko bein' dangerous?"

"Yeah, but we can train it. All we need is the egg and it'll hatch right ‘ere!"

"Ok. Shen," Bo closed the book and laid it on the table beside him, leaning forward to focus on his sister. "All yer other ideas at least made an ounce of sense, given what we knew at the time. They were understandable. But you now want to bring a dangerous predator into our home."

"We can train it." Shen gazed cheerily at Bo, who stared, uncomprehending, back at her for a couple seconds.

Finally he replied. "Shen, we are not bringing a dangerous reptile into this house."

Her smile fell, replaced by a pouting face. "But it's not dangerous! We'll train ‘im good!"

"No."

With that, Shen punched him in the shoulder, then ran inside and slammed the door behind her. Bo rubbed the bruise, and gazed out at the strange eggs that illuminated the bog. "Dammit Shen," he muttered. Despite what he tried to present, he was always moved a little by his sister's attempts at adventure. "Some day yer gonna make me do somethin' I'll regret."

Previous part | Next Part

[writingdotcoffee]

Good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn’t to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up.

Stephen King

[rho-kassiopeia]

Writing is just Googling words to make sure that you’re using them correctly.

[lettersandinkstains]

only you and sky

(stylized choice cw: non detailed lemon / citrus for blood upon the altar, mlm with canonized aston / matija -- no tag list will be used for this)

i. Matija has a soft glow to him at times -- whether it’s from the sun or the moon, it’s still enchanting and enticing. This is not unnatural for the Fae, who were blessed with beauty beyond compare.

ii. Even softer are his lips -- tender and light -- and he knows what he’s doing with each touch.

iii. Aston sometimes wonders -- is there a line that has been crossed? He knows he’s a flirt, he knows that the moment when flesh becomes and intertwined, he could never go back --- the emotions would be come real. His thoughts and feelings would solidify.

iv. And he chases after ghosts that he can never quite catch, a guilt that hangs heavy in his heart. Matija talks of family some day -- and Aston admires how excited the other is that the prospect. And somewhere deep inside of him, he wishes that family would be with him.

v. When Matija comes across the scars, the disfigurement and enclaves of injuries caused by a man drunk with anger, irrational and hate, he lies and he always lies. Someone as wonderful as Matija does not need to know what secrets follow. After all, they both have skeletons in the closet and if they let them out, who knows what monsters will follow?

vi. But all thoughts and promises and pasts and futures disappear when soft lips touch his for what feels like the first and millionth time, and they entangle again and again.

vii. Aleks gives him judging looks at the red spots on his neck, and Matija just smiles as Adrienne waggles her brows. Yet, he only grabs Matija’s hand and holds it tightly. Come hell and the wrath of a dead god, he would never want to let.

[weminence]

January 2020 recap and February Goals

JANUARY

~ write five fics

None

~ read 2 books

I read three

~ cook 4 things

I only cooked chicken fried steak but I actually made mashed potatoes with it this time.

~ try seeing ransom riggs

I mean I asked. But it wasn't feasible right now TT-TT

~ work on jacket

Yeah a little

~ finish painting projects

I finished 2

~ draw Lup and Juno Steel

Nope

~ write some shorts

One

FEBRUARY

~ write four things

~ read two books

~ cook two things

~ [REDACTED]

~ be more active on social media

~ practice drawing everyday

~ finish some painting projects

~ write two fics

[scriptwriters-network]

Creative Writing Challenge – Part 2 –   May

This MONTHLY challenge is for those who want to work on writing new ideas and who would like to maintain a continuous creativity flow with your writing.

Creatively writing short films are a great way to get started/or extend the passion in your career as a writer. A good short film can further help you develop your style and vision using story, drama, dialog, and imagery.

More here.

[madlovenovelist]

Is building a home library contra to being environmentally conscious?

DISCUSSION POST: Should we be moving to e-libraries to save the planet, or are there ways to keep our books made of recyclable material and environmental impact down? I always make a concerted effort in my life to re-use, recycle, and re-purpose to minimise my footprint on our environment. Even in product choice to limit the amount of forever chemicals that enter the household. But then I turn…

[longdariavampysilver]

^16^

We have looked at them, waiting to hear what they had found.Unconsciously, we have tightened our hands, and we have felt our touch, we have looked at us for just a moment, then we have got back to stare those hungry creatures, who were looking to explain to us what one of them had found, or better yet, what he was about to stumble. Between grunting and a little roar, Jack was making our…

[luvdell20]

Ladybug Mecca

Catch a ladybug,

free it to the air

and be its master

as it whispers your

name in loving ears

To entice the lover with joy

like a rainbow of lightning

overflowing with bright colors

rushing over to sweet madness

While spots of changing seasons

could lead up to twenty-four wishes

of crazy love to be realized in eyes

that are clever toxic to all lucky kisses

And those spiritual attributes are visible

under the hibernating wings of winter

mating during the journey of yearly flights

knowing that spring is a bitter prelude to leave.

-Cordelia Hunter