#and nano is fast approaching too!!!

[foxmulderautism]

that post i made on my writeblr about how there's this one story i have out with a mag that i want rejected because i have a story i think suits the mag better.....live cam footage of me receiving the rejection email on my rainy evening walk

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

Let Me Save You

fandom: Doctor Who

pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader

summary: Your favorite hobby is collecting alien medical supplies. At least, the Doctor thinks it's a hobby.

Or, you try to make your chronic illness go away without consulting the Doctor first. Can be read platonic or romantic.

tags/warnings: chronic pain, chronic illness, medical experimentation, self-medication, experimental drug use, emotional hurt/comfort

word count: 4384

a/n: an 11 fic in the year of our lord 2024? more likely than you'd think

i hope this is comforting for someone. i had a dream about this and now here we are.

reader's illness is never specified (it's mentioned that you experience pain of some sort, but not where or how or anything like that) so this can be generalized. also no gender identifiers that i can see (but ialso wrote this really fast so please correct me if im wrong!)

It’s been a week since your last market trip, and you still haven’t sorted the supplies. You know you’re slacking, but it’s been more difficult lately. To get up, to put on a smile for him, when your whole body is falling apart. Of course, he doesn’t know that. He can never know.

But he can keep you company while you sort the supplies. Hold you accountable. Even if he doesn’t know what for.

The Doctor, as usual, is tinkering away at the interface. Occasionally, a spark flies out at him, but he seems unbothered. You approach the console room from a nearby hallway, your satchel slung over your shoulder. You glance around, looking for him, before taking a seat on the floor.

The Doctor had heard your footsteps, and now he lifts his goggles to observe you. He watches as you set the satchel down. “Everything alright?”

You spare him a quick glance and a nod. “Fine. Just… looking for company. You can go back to work; I’ll just watch, if that’s okay.”

The Doctor pauses, disturbed by the slight downturn of your smile, but lets it go for now. “As long as you don’t distract me.”

You hum to yourself in quiet agreement. “I’ll try my best.”

As the Doctor turns back away to continue his tinkering, you dump the contents of your satchel on the floor - spoils of your previous trip to the Martian Markets. Your eyes scan over the bottles and tubes and capsules; all sorts of alien medical supplies. There were pain medications, instant bandages, antiseptic infused with nano-bots. This is your hobby - at least, that’s all the Doctor thinks it is - collecting medical supplies from the planets you visit.

You sit quietly, your brow furrowed in concentration, as you sort the supplies into piles. The Doctor hears the slight commotion and looks over his shoulder, a curious look on his face. He sets down his screwdriver and rests his elbows on the console. “You’ve never told me why you collect all these.”

You hum, eyes still fixed on the piles. “Might come in handy someday.” You manage a small smile, although it doesn’t quite reach the rest of your expression.

The Doctor tilts his head, a frown forming on his face. He doesn’t want to push; you would tell him the reason when you felt comfortable enough to do so. But he couldn’t help his curiosity. “You worry too much. Always thinking about the what-ifs.”

You snort and pick up a bottle of Martian healing salve, turning it over in your hands. “I worry too much? Okay.”

His mouth gapes open for a moment, taken aback by your sarcastic tone. Immediately, he jumps to defend himself, pointing his screwdriver at you. “Hey, I-”

“Do you think we could visit another market soon? I’d like to see if I can find anything else.” You cut him off, hardly noticing that you’re even doing it. You glance up at him, finally noticing the faux-wounded look on his face.

The Doctor closes his mouth, reaching for his bowtie in a self-soothing gesture. You’re being… weird. But he doesn’t mention it. “A… another market, yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem. Somewhere with lots of alien medical supplies, I assume?”

You smile again, the dull look in your eyes a stark contrast to the expression. “Yeah, preferably.”

The Time Lord’s unease grows as he sees the falsehood in your countenance. He goes silent for a moment, watching as you go back to picking through the supplies. Finally, he decides to speak. “I know there’s something wrong. You can tell me, you know.”

You, too, go silent. Your movements still. Finally, you reply quietly, “I know.” You begin to pack the things back into your satchel, finished with sorting and cataloging them.

“Then why won’t you tell me?” He slowly approaches from the console, kneeling down so he’s at eye level.

“It’s… complicated, Doctor.” You avoid his searching gaze and ignore the way your heart races.

The Doctor scoffs, settling down cross-legged in front of you. “I’m a Time Lord. I think I’m more than well-versed in all things complicated.” He reaches out a hand to gently touch your knee and his voice grows soft. “Try me.” When you don’t respond, the Doctor frowns. He can feel his own frustration bubbling up, the sort that comes when his companions keep secrets from him. But he tries to keep his voice level, not wanting to scare you off. “I can tell when you’re lying. I can see it with you just as I can see it with anyone else.”

You finally place the last item back in the satchel. Your eyes lift slowly to meet his gaze. “It’s not a lie if I haven’t even told you anything,” you whisper.

The Doctor’s expression softens as he looks into your eyes. There’s something broken there, and it scares him. “Fine. You haven’t lied. But you still haven’t told me the truth.”

You look down at where his hand rests on your knee. Slowly, you reach for his wrist, circling your fingers around it. The Doctor’s confusion only grows, his body tensing slightly at the unexpected touch. But he doesn’t pull back. You slide your hand to the underside of his wrist, two fingers pressed against his pulse point. Your gaze is fixed on the point where you touch, the warmth of his skin, the soft thrum of his hearts. “It’s odd, you know.” The words come out as a soft murmur. “Two hearts, but only one pulse.”

The Doctor swallows hard, feeling a strange sense of dread. His hearts pound in his chest, thrumming against your fingers on his wrist. He speaks quietly, “Not entirely. Gallifreyan biology isn’t the same as humans. Our cardiovascular system works differently. That’s all.”

You quickly withdraw your fingers, almost as if his touch has burned you. Your expression grows a bit harder - not unkind, just closed off. You swing your satchel back over your shoulder and stand. “The market soon, yeah?”

The Doctor’s eyes widen as you suddenly pull away. A pang of hurt, confusion, and fear shoots through him. The words stick in his throat. “Yeah. The market soon.”

You give one quick nod. “Just come get me whenever you’re ready to go. Or have the TARDIS tell me. Whichever.” You turn on your heel, heading back down the hall to your room.

Helplessness washes over the Doctor as he watches you leave. He wants to reach out, to call you back and demand you tell him what’s going on. But he has seen enough of his companions shutting him out, and he has no desire to make it happen again. With a heavy, dejected sigh, he stands, returning to the console to seek out a market you haven’t visited yet. He hopes perhaps this will cheer you up, or at the very least, give him a chance to try and talk to you again.

About 30 minutes later, the TARDIS lands on the unfamiliar planet with her usual jolt, letting out a groan to signify their arrival. The Doctor calls down the hallways in the direction of your room. “Oi! We’ve landed, come on!”

You come out with a smile on your lips, the previous interaction seemingly forgotten. There is still an emptiness in your eyes, but it’s clear you’re trying to offset it. You clutch your now-empty satchel at your side eagerly. “What are we waiting for then?”

Your vigor should put the Doctor at ease, but it only serves to strengthen his resolve to find out what is bothering you. He tries to swallow down his nerves, giving you a broad, excited grin as he opens the TARDIS doors for you.

As you both step outside, the brightness nearly blinds you. You have to blink to clear the sudden spots in your vision. The Doctor rattles on enthusiastically beside you. “The interplanetary markets of the Rumalian system. They have 3 suns, which makes for some interesting orbital patterns. We’re actually standing on the remnants of the 4th planet in the system, which imploded after a nasty leak of toxic goo.” He rubs his hands together, eyes taking in the various tents and canopies which line the streets of the market. “But nothing to worry about now; the implosion managed to burn up all of the toxicity and now it’s a wonderful place for the markets! All sorts of folk around here, Grumians, Braleths, Wertikens…”

Finally, your vision clears and you can observe the sight in front of you. The ground is a mottled green color, with bits of rock and dust around. The street winds and twists, branching off into different sections. There must be thousands of market stalls, stretching out as far as your eye can see. Alien species of all shapes and sizes wander past, browsing the tables and exchanging wares. You hold your satchel a little tighter, tamping down the anxiety that rises in your chest at the noise and commotion. “Right. Where are the medical supplies then?”

The Doctor breaks off from his tangent about the stall that makes the best plum creams to look at you. He points down the path. “Three rows down that way.”

You look where he’s pointing and nod firmly. “Good. I’ll meet you back here, yeah?”

The bowtie around the Doctor’s neck seems to grow tighter as he looks at you - it’s like all the air has been sucked from his lungs. The look in your eyes is something fierce and determined. It scares him. Still, he manages a small smile and a nod. “Or I’ll find you. I’ll get some plum creams for us.” As you begin to walk down the path without another word, he calls out to you. “Make sure you read the labels!”

Aliens brush up against your shoulders as you make your way to the row the Doctor indicated. Your eyes grow wide as you arrive at the end. Nearly every table and stall is lined with bottles and jars and tubes. For about the thousandth time since you began traveling with the Doctor, you send a prayer of thanks to the TARDIS translation matrix. This would be impossible without it.

You spend the next two hours stopping at every stall on the row. You speak to vendors about their wares, picking up a few items at nearly every table. By the time you reach the end, your satchel is heavy and nearly bursting with neatly wrapped packages. As you finish up, placing a roll of Gradorian tendon tape into your satchel, you hear the familiar sound of the Doctor’s voice. He’s at the end of the next row, conversing with an alien that has the head of a walrus and the body of a horse.

You approach the pair, struggling to zip your satchel as you go. The Doctor notices you and gives you a smile, walking away from the walrus-horse thing. “Looks like you’ve done well.”

You smile back at him, and this time the darkness in your eyes seems a bit lighter. “Yes, I think so.”

The change in your demeanor only causes the Doctor’s confusion to grow. But he keeps his face neutral, nodding at your stuffed satchel. “Might need a bigger bag soon. The Lorentians make a wonderful dimensional bag, like a TARDIS! Bigger on the inside and all that. In fact, there might already be one here.”

He’s already begun to walk away in search of a Lorentian bag stand. You manage to catch the end of his sleeve, bringing him to a sudden halt. “Maybe next time. Let’s get back, yeah? I wanna go through all this.”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow at you but nods. He falls into step beside you, watching how you clutch the satchel at your side protectively. You make your way back down the row to where the TARDIS is parked. As you walk, the Doctor hands you one of the infamous plum creams he’d mentioned. You chew on it, savoring the flavor as you walk.

Once you’ve arrived back to the TARDIS and taken off, you turn to the Doctor. There’s a strange look in your eyes, the same look you always get after a trip to a market for more medical supplies - something eager, something… desperate. You pat the full satchel. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Right… I’ll leave you to it, then.” He watches as you head down the hallway. The lump in his throat seems to choke him. He’s missing something, and it’s driving him wild.

In your room, you mirror your movements from earlier, dumping the satchel’s contents onto the floor. You sit cross-legged and begin to sort the supplies - pills in front of you, injections to the left, and any goops, solutions, or salves to the right. By the time you’re done, the floor around you is covered in neat rows of bottles, tubes, and syringes.

You stretch out your legs and roll up your pants to above your knees. A roll of medical tape sits beside you, and you grab it to begin carefully taping a grid on your knees. You make sure to have enough squares for each of the substances intended for topical usage. Before long, you’ve neatly taped off each joint.

Out in the control room, the Doctor is pacing. He rounds the center console over and over, his frustration mounting with each revolution. He’s racking his brain, trying to find what he’s missed, but nothing comes to mind. He runs his hand through his hair before leaning back on the console. He speaks quietly to himself and to the TARDIS. “What do you think? Surely there’s something wrong… it’s been like this for weeks and it’s only getting worse.” The TARDIS lets out a low hum, the lights glowing brighter for a second. The Doctor takes this as a sign of agreement. With a determined huff, he strides out into the hallway. He’s going to get answers, whether you like it or not.

The Doctor has to focus hard in order to unclench his jaw, tight with anxiety. He tries to tamp down the fear that rises up in him - it feels like walking to his doom. As he approaches your room, he straightens his bowtie, then raps firmly on your door while calling your name. “It’s me. Open the door.”

You startle in the room, accidentally dropping the bottle of pills you’d been holding. They scatter across the ground, rolling all over the place and causing a loud clatter. “Bit busy!” you call out, desperately trying to clean up the mess you’ve made.

The Doctor frowns as he hears the commotion, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. “I need to talk to you. Open up or… or I’m coming in.” Normally he would never threaten such things, but the anxiety coursing through him was enough to drive him mad - well, more mad than usual.

You swore under your breath, staring at the incriminating scene around you - your gridded knees, covered in colored goops, the rows of pill bottles in front of you, the syringes waiting neatly beside them. “No! I’m… I’m changing!” The lie came out thin as you searched for something to clean the substances off your skin.

“Oh come on, I’m a thousand-year-old alien. I think I can handle the sight of you in a state of undress.”

You huff indignantly, staring at the door with narrowed eyes. You can make out the shadow of his form under the door. You’re silent for a moment, scared and a bit angry. Then, finally-

“No.”

The Doctor clenches his jaw at your simple response. He can hear the hesitation, the defiance, and knows that you’re certainly getting yourself into trouble. “Right. You’ve left me no choice. I’m coming in.” Before you can protest, the Doctor pulls out his sonic and points it at the door handle. It unlocks with a gentle click and he pushes it open all the way.

It takes a moment for the scene before his eyes to register. He scans the substances laid out in front of you, the pills scattered across the floor. One rolls across the ground to stop next to his foot. He sees the cacophony of colored gels on your knees, the odd grid pattern you’ve placed them in. The waiting syringes, the bottles of pills…

“What are you doing?” His voice comes out small, almost trembling.

Your mouth gapes open, an odd sort of croaking sound coming out of it as the words stick in your throat. You have nothing to say, no explanation that will make this any better.

The Doctor leans down to pick up the pill that stopped by his shoe. He examines it carefully, scans it with the sonic, and reads the results. His brow furrows and fear rises up in his chest. He whispers your name. “Talk to me; what is all of this? Why… why do you have all of these?”

Finally, the shock wears off and you look down at your hands in shame. You slowly move to take the tape off of your knees, then grab a towel to wipe them down. As you do, the Doctor watches in silence. You can’t look at him - you can’t look at his face when you’re sure he’s absolutely infuriated with you. “It’s nothing.” The words sound weak even to you.

“Don’t say that!” The Doctor’s voice is louder than you’ve ever heard it before, and you startle, looking up at him with wide eyes. He softens as he sees the fear on your face, slowly lowering himself to the ground. He holds his hands out to you like one might do to a wounded animal. “Please. Please be honest with me. Just… tell me what’s going on. I only want to help.”

Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and you hate your body for betraying you. You wipe them away angrily, then pick up the towel to continue scrubbing at your knees. You can’t speak, even if you wanted to. Anything you want to say will just come out as a shitty excuse, or a lie. And you can’t lie to him. You manage a deep breath and meet his eyes. To your surprise, there’s no anger, no frustration - just fear. “I can’t tell you… I just need you to know.”

The Doctor dips his head to hold your gaze. He speaks softly, “How can I know if you don’t tell me?”

You shake your head, averting your eyes once more. “You’re the Doctor. Make an educated guess.”

The Doctor’s hearts feel like they’re about to burst out of his chest. He’s so scared and worried for you; he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. His mind is in overdrive, going a million miles per hour as he tries to work this out. Why do you have all these pills? Why were you using alien medicine on yourself? Don’t you know how dangerous this is?

The answer hits him all at once and it takes everything in him not to scream his frustration for not figuring it out sooner. The exhaustion, the medicine, the desperation…

“You’re sick.”

It’s not a question.

It’s a breath, an exhale, a momentary nightmare that the Doctor wishes he could wake up from. He hopes you laugh, hopes you tell him this is all a big joke or something. He wants you to deny it, to say it’s not true. But the look in your eyes says the exact opposite.

A sob rips itself from your lips as you clap a hand over your mouth, trying to hold in the emotions that threaten to escape.

The Doctor feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The air seems thin and tenuous, each breath a struggle. “How long?”

You sniff and discard the towel you’d been using, wiping away tears once more. Each word wobbles as your resolve fades. He knows now; there’s no use holding back. “Since the beginning? It’s… I was born with it.”

With every word, the Doctor’s grip on himself grows weaker. The lump in his throat almost chokes him; his hearts squeeze in a vice. “And you’ve… you’ve kept it a secret this whole time. From me.”

The brokenness in his voice nearly makes you crumble. Shame and guilt race up your spine and blush burns on your cheeks. Another sob spills from your mouth. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Immediately the Doctor regrets his words. This is about you, not him. He can manage his own feelings later. Right now you need him. He shuffles closer to you, almost close enough to touch. “No, no, shh. It’s not your fault. It’s alright, hush now.” He carefully wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side. You immediately turn your head into his chest, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He rocks you gently, murmuring reassurances in your ear. “I have you now; you’re alright.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually your tears slow. The Doctor continues to sway you side to side, the motion soothing both of you. When he thinks you’ve calmed, he slowly starts to pull away. You grip his shirt with both fists, letting out a whine. He moves to hold your hands, already trying to reassure you. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Can you just look at me?”

You release your vice grip on him although you stay close. You manage to tilt your head to meet his eyes while still keeping in contact, his hands covering yours.

He smiles softly, sadly, at you. “There you are.” His voice is kind, almost paternal.

You sniffle, shame still coursing through you. But the gentleness in his eyes makes you feel a bit more at ease. This is the Doctor. He won’t hurt you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought…”

The Doctor waits for you to continue, hating to hear you apologize but wanting to know what you’re thinking. He nods, indicating he’s listening.

“I thought if I… found a cure, then I wouldn’t ever have to tell you. That I could keep going, keep traveling with you, and you would never know because… it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

The twin hearts in the Doctor’s chest seem to stutter. The thought of you carrying this burden alone, of keeping this a secret to protect him… “How could you think… I care about you. Of course this matters. You matter. You’re my… you’re my friend.”

“When I… when I was diagnosed, I lost people. People I thought were my friends, too. They promised to be there, promised to stay. But they only helped when it was convenient for them. Once they realized that my condition stops me from living like they do, they moved on.” Your voice was small and scared.

The Doctor raises a hand to cup your cheek gently, ducking to look into your eyes. “Hey. I’m not people. And I would never leave you. Not for this.” His hearts ache at the fear and pain in your eyes. He wants to hold you tight to his chest and never let you go. Instead, he keeps his voice steady as he speaks. “You are more than just what you go through. You’re brilliant, and kind, and caring. I could never think less of you for something like this.”

A soft sob spills from your lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you… that I didn’t tell you.”

He shakes his head, bringing his other hand up now to hold your face. His touch is gentle, like you’re something fragile that might break if he lets go. “Please, don’t apologize. I understand, I really do. Just… promise me you’ll never keep something like this from me again. Please.”

Your eyes search his, looking for any sign of deception, or anger, or hurt. But you find none - just affection and a concern as deep as the universe. “Promise.”

He gently rubs his thumb across your cheek, your faces only inches apart. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours for a moment. Now you can feel his fear, feel the anguish that you’ve put him through. You wince as the feelings grow stronger. He pulls away and murmurs, “Sorry. Time Lord telepathy.”

“It’s alright,” you reply, feeling off-kilter, unable to sort his feelings from your own. “What… what do I do now?”

The Doctor opens his eyes once more. “We work together to find a cure. For whatever it is you have. You stop keeping secrets, and you stop this reckless attempt at a solution. You stop the self-medicating, the experimenting, the searching-”

Already you’re shaking your head. “No, I… I can’t stop. I’ve been trying for so long. I can’t just… give up.”

“It’s not giving up.” The Doctor clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice level even as his frustration grew. “This is dangerous. Do you have any idea what these things could do to a human?” He releases one hand from your face to grab a nearby pill bottle. His eyes scan the label before he holds it up in front of your face. “These could kill you.”

You swallow hard, averting your eyes. “It’s all I have.”

“No.” The Doctor’s voice is firm, almost scolding. “Absolutely not. This is not all you have. You have me and I want to help. But I won’t let you destroy yourself.”

You shrink away from him, a little scared by the tone of his voice. You’ve seen the Doctor angry; of course you have. But never at you.

He notices, sees you retreating into yourself, and regrets his words immediately. He whispers your name like it’s something sacred. “I say it because I care. I’m not angry, I’m… I’m afraid. I don’t… I can’t lose you.” He grips your hands once more, holding them like he’s afraid you’ll disappear right then and there. “Please, let me help. Let me save you.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. You’ve kept your secrets close to your chest, and that was a mistake. Now here he is, always the savior. The Doctor. Your Doctor. How could you ever say no to him?

[syn4k]

anyways it sucks that nano said that about ai generated writing but im broke so im not gonna be giving them money in either case.

my approach to this is going to be: in my creative writing class, one of our midterm grades is to compete in one of three writing related contests, one of which is NaNoWriMo. HOWEVER, since our class has a high percentage of disabled people (both physically and mentally) who are incredibly prone to burnout when it comes to participating in traditional NaNo, our teacher (also disabled so she Gets It) edited the challenge slightly this year to make it easier for us to participate.

instead of writing 40,000 words in one month, our goal is to write 10,000 words a month for four months, starting in August and ending with 40k at the end of November. this is much more manageable and realistic for us, it still provides a challenge, and it also means the participants write an entire novel in four months, which is still a big deal for obvious reasons especially considering the majority of the class are very much amateur writers.

i've adopted this much more relaxed model while writing salt & the sea and will probably continue to use it next year regardless of if our teacher keeps it in the rotation for our midterm grade or not. if traditional nano has been too exhausting/intimidating for you in previous years for whatever reason like it has been for me, you're welcome to join me in participating in this unofficial offshoot of it!

another thing: i am a fast writer. i write a lot and i write very quickly. however, due to burnout, depression, the time of year that NaNo happens in, and a couple other things, 40k words in one month is a goal that i simply cannot hit in any way without hurting myself a LOT right now and that's okay. Reaching a goal means nothing if you destroy yourself in the process of getting there. It's okay to make a huge challenge easier for yourself in order to accommodate for your own disabilities, workflow, etc. or even just so that you aren't put off trying in the first place!

I don't have a name yet for this edited NaNo challenge and it probably won't go anywhere which is okay but I'm thinking of referring to it as Mini NaNo, Mitosis NaNo, or something else that preferably emphasizes it's an unofficial offshoot of the challenge.

(my) monthly goals:

Start: Aug 1st (you can dust off an old draft or concept if you'd like)

August 31st: 10,000 words

September 30th: 20,000 words

October 31st: 30,000 words

November 30th: 40,000 words

Current word count as of Sep. 2nd (started this draft on May 30th, I know, I cheated a bit): ~19,000

wish me luck!

[thessalian]

Thess vs NaNoWriMo

So that time of year is fast approaching, and I think a lot of people I associate with on this platform are going, "But Veilguard's coming out on HALLOWEEN!", which is entirely fine - NaNoWriMo is optional. And honestly, all things considered, I am probably never doing it as an organised situation again.

It took some digging to find the original text, and I'll probably post the screenshot I saw on Bluesky too, but summary: not only is NaNoWriMo pretty much supporting AI (they say "absolutely not condemning", but the rest of the text isn't nearly so mealy-mouthed about it) but also calling people who are against AI "ableist and classist".

No, seriously. I mean, seriously.

Look, how people get their ideas is probably up to them. And stolen valour aside, plugging an idea into ChatGPT and getting some word salad in return is ... I guess someone's prerogative. The same as someone just typing, like, "rutabaga" 50k times technically counts as writing 50k words. But ... first of all, NaNoWriMo was supposed to support people who write. Second of all, the idea that not having someone immediately at your side to serve as beta reader is "classist" is ... no. Like, if you're online enough to understand NaNoWriMo, you can find a damn beta reader. Third, "Some people's brains don't work well enough to see the problems in their writing--" SEE ABOVE RE PROOF-READING, FOR ONE THING, and for another, that's just shit like spelling and grammar check, which has been standard on word processing programmes basically ever since the concept existed! Fourth, I'm not sure how AI assists in shit like "Can't find a publisher because publishers are only really interested in what will sell ALL THE BOOKS", but that's one of their arguments too.

But the last thing - the worst thing - is what that means. NaNoWriMo is not cool with plagiarism as far as I know, but that's what trains AI. More to the point, you have to verify your word count with their website by actually copy-pasting everything you wrote into the site for it to show you as a winner. The fact that they support AI, and that one of their sponsors offers a whole bunch of AI features? I don't trust them not to be selling every single thing people submit for word count total to feed someone else's writer-bot.

I mean, the NaNoWriMo bods have made some spectacularly shitty decisions the last few years. There was that partnership with those scammers at Inkkit, which also revealed the whole thing where one of their moderators - who operated the youth programme, by the way - turned out to be a paedophile and groomer. But this one is just ... disrespectful of the very thing they were supposed to be supporting.

Please don't use the official NaNoWriMo resources. I am concerned for what it will do with not only what you submit for word count, but what you put in their forums too. If you want to do 50k words in 30 days, I am with you all the way, and others will be too. Find a support group that isn't these jackasses and do that.

Plus the "not using AI is ableist" thing is bullshit, by the way. I am not participating this year (I don't think, anyway; not unless I get a great idea) because I'm damn sure I don't have the spoons for that ... because disabled. Because fibromyalgia. The thing is, I don't want to just say "I produced 50k words and won NaNo", I want to write. I want to use my voice, not something cooked up by a machine learning algorithm based on a single sentence. I think way too many people have forgotten what "in your own voice" means to art.

Like, on the r/criticalrole subreddit, we were talking about how Lance Reddick actually did record all his lines as Thordak in TLOVM before he passed, and I mentioned how different that was going to hit, with the example of having heard Robin Sachs as Zaeed in the ME3 Citadel DLC after he passed. And someone went, "Oh, shit, I didn't know he passed! Hey, do you think they'll one day be able to use the voices of dead voice actors so we can keep hearing them? Because I know it's possible because Snoop Doggy Dogg is reading me my homework now and it's awesome!"

I ... may have kind of exploded. I may also have mentioned that some bunch of assholes tried to make a George Carlin special after Carlin's death and his daughter (understandably) hit the roof. It's bad enough to disrespect thousands of people by training an AI to spit out whatever of their works will fit a prompt sentence, but imagine hearing the voice of someone you love, mangled by AI's inability to get real emotional nuance, possibly saying shit they would never say? Using their voices doesn't change that the emotion and power behind those voices is gone forever; it just parades a decaying copy of them around like some vocal equivalent of Weekend at Bernie's.

[batteredrugosa]

WIP Wednesday Prompts

I STG this game is the only thing that gets me to actually sit down and write regularly. People asked me for words? Cant let them down! and then I have fun in spite of myself. This is a chunk of my short story Lion from my 2020 NaNo collection. It finished the month as a series of scenes with no transitions, so I have been making a story out of it.

posted for: @tamsinswriting, @asha10100101010, @somefishycat

Y'all got a long snippet; I got caught up in this one this morning.

When 9:30 came and went and the rest of the group had not returned, Emma, started to get mildly concerned. She hoped that they had not gotten lost; the caves were well marked and the side tunnels were blocked form wandering, but if someone decided it was a good idea to break the rules, there were all kinds of potential dangers. By 10:00, Emma was feeling frantic. She stashed her gear in Gillian’s tent and headed up the trail towards the cave entrance in the hopes of finding her friends just running a bit late.

The cave mouth quickly appeared before her, and she saw some foot prints in the dirt heading into the cavern, but nothing coming out again . She started to enter and realized she had forgotten to bring a flashlight with her. As she turned around she noticed a wet spot on the cave floor, just at the point where the light began to fade. She walked closer to take a look and saw it was a smear of dark red blood. Her mind began to race with worry and fear as she frantically patted pockets for her cell phone to call the ranger station. She found it in side pocket of her pants and as she thumbed it open everything went dark as a thick meaty hand slapped a cloth over her mouth and a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She took in a deep breath to scream and immediately felt light headed and muzzy. Her thoughts scattered into a jumble and she passed out as she was being dragged backwards into the dark.

*******

When Emma woke her head was pounding, She was slumped against the wall of a cave and the world around her was pitch black. She heard small sounds that let her know that she was not the only one bundled against the wall and when she tried to open her mouth to cry out, she realized that she had been gagged and that she was bound hands and feet. She heard purposeful movement from somewhere else in the cavern and two people talking in a language she did not understand. She craned her head trying to see something of what was going on, but the room remained too dark to see anything clearly. Whatever conversation was being had by the people that she imagined must be their captors came to an end and she heard footsteps approaching her. She closed her eyes and pretended to be passed out, hoping that they would assume she was more disoriented than she was. The rough hands she remembered from before wrapped around her arms and pulled her away from the wall and up to her feet, giving her a bone rattling shake. “Wag ough girlie. Ye hev been paid for.“ His accent was unusual with guttural vowels and a rolling r sound that made his English very hard to make out. Bought and paid for? She stumbled a little on her unsteady legs but quickly found her balance and stepped back from that meaty hand. She had to get away from here. If she was compliant maybe this new person would take her somewhere with light and she could orient herself. Was this some sort of human trafficking ring on Cooper Mountain? She sensed another presence close to her and another hand reached out to touch her arm. “Come girl. I will lead you until we are way from these and I can make a light for you to walk.” These hands were smooth and warm to the touch. Their owner quickly scooped her up as though she did not weigh a thing and she felt a breeze on her face. They were running fast and silent through total darkness. She wanted to struggle, but she feared falling and getting knocked out again so she held herself as still as she could, holding back a whimper of terror as her captor carried her through the unrelenting darkness.

[overwatchloresnstuff]

Mercy lore

Buckle up kids, this is a long one! We have quite a lot of lore!

Next lore dive is the long, sad, and inspiring tale of Overwatch’s most controversial support: the high-flying, Glock-wielding, master of life Mercy!

“Pain lessens with time…but comes back at the slightest reminder..” - Angela Ziegler

Angela Ziegler was a child of the Omnic Crisis. Born into a family of doctors in Switzerland during the deepest and bloodiest parts of the war. Angela’s parents usually left her at home to volunteer at a local hospital, desperately trying to piece together the dead and dying. Modern medicine, however skilled, just couldn’t keep up with the massive amount of victims the Crisis was creating. Steel, as always, is stronger than flesh.

One day, her parents were killed when the hospital was obliterated by an air strike. There was nothing left, and a police officer grimly informed Angela that she was now an orphan.

Angela threw herself, at the tender age of fourteen, into the study of medicine. It consumed her. She was hailed as a medical prodigy, and one of the youngest women ever to receive a doctorate. She plunged ever deeper into research, determined to be more effective. In the arms race of man against machine, medicine could be the turning factor in the war. She would be that force.

After Operation White Dome, Torbjorn Lindholm was laid up in a Swiss hospital, grieving the loss of his arm. Angela’s family had been longtime friends of the Lindholms, but until now they had traveled in purely social circles. Angela went to see him, and the two became fast friends; a teenaged medical intern trying to change the world, and an Overwatch agent who needed a reason to keep fighting. Torbjorn began to slowly introduce her to Overwatch’s crew.

By her late teens, she received her MD and a PhD in the emerging field of nano sciences and was becoming a popular figure in Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Though their medic was too young to drink or even drive by many country’s’ standards, the Strike Team was taken with her tenacity and determination. It was there she met Fareeha Amari and Cole Cassidy, a young rabble rouser given a second chance at life by Gabriel Reyes.

The Lindholms became her adoptive family, and Overwatch her extended one. After spending so much time buried in her studies with no emotional support or help, the new sense of family lit a fire under Angela to become better.

She was declared head of surgery at a prominent Swiss hospital, and established a research lab in the study of nanotechnology. She pioneered healing nanites, a cloud of tiny robots the size of a cell that could heal the most grievous of wounds and safely dissolve into the body afterward. This healing tech was pioneered with her Caduceus Staff, so named for the Staff of Divine Healing carried by Hermes in Greek Legend. The symbol of the Caduceus, of two serpents entwined around the sacred winged staff, symbolizes medicine’s balance.

The technology was poised to cause an explosion in the field of medicine. People could have major surgeries in the field. She could administer pain medication, heal the sick, and bring people back from the brink of dying…all as long as she had the nanites with her.

It was then that her adoptive family approached her again. Jack Morrison had read her paper on her new nanobiotics. While it had potential, the technology was choked by poor funding. Her staff was a godsend, but to truly springboard the tech, she would need a backer. Overwatch wanted to be that backer. Morrison told her he had enough soldiers. He needed dreamers, engineers, people like her.

Angela, at first, declined. As a member of the family she knew not only of Overwatch’s good deeds, but their darker underbelly. While she didn’t know the details, the militaristic aspect of Overwatch was enough to give her pause. She wanted to heal. She didn’t want her tech used for war. She didn’t want soldiers to be patched up and flung back into battle. And yet…the cash and equipment from people who had essentially adopted her after the death of her parents was too good of an offer.

She became the head of Overwatch’s medical team, and brought her nanites to new heights. However, even here there was pressure to prove herself, and prove that her technology worked. There was pressure on her not only to be a doctor as she wanted, but an Overwatch agent. After several years…Angela caved. She developed the Valkyrie Swift Response Suit, and took on the call sign Mercy (ID # 3945_46) as a promise to use her newfound money and tech to help and not harm. This suit was equipped with propulsion systems similar to those developed by Dr. De Kuiper, and it’s hinted that the two attended seminars together…possibly to that end.

She point-blank refused to get involved in any fighting, and used her considerable pull to insist that Overwatch begin to amp up its place on the humanitarian stage. Overwatch happily acquiesced, and Mercy became a force in the field of emergency trauma medicine. Under her, Overwatch began to help people displaced not only by the Crisis, but by natural disasters, pandemics, and coups. Unfortunately, due to the nature of her work, Overwatch insisted she began carrying and learning to use a small firearm for her own protection. She accepted a pulse pistol from Morrison, and learned how to shoot.

Things were not all peaceful, however.

Torbjorn Lindholm developed a biotic rifle for Ana Amari, with a reassurance that it was only to be used for long range healing. Angela was furious. This was the beginning! Her tech being turned into ammunition was just the start! Lindholm calmed her, reassuring her he never meant anything of the sort, but the cat was out of the bag. Mercy discovered her research, her nanites, her yellow force of healing had been made public to the entire organization. Unbeknownst to Mercy, this included Blackwatch’s newest acquisition, Moira O’Deorain.

They had lied to her.

But…this was her family. These were people who had taken her in after she had nothing left of the world. They couldn’t possibly twist something so beautiful into something evil…could they? Unfortunately for her, Moira was already working on reversing the nanites, and Ana Amari cleverly used the new withering technology in her ammunition.

As Torbjorn had once told her, “All tär inte guld som glimmar”, all that glitters is not gold. Angela had always had the habit of questioning others, and the notoriously cynical elder Lindholm had been rubbing off on her.

The bright star that had once been Overwatch began to fade in Angela’s eyes. She was no longer a naive little girl, and as much as she loved Torbjorn and the others, they were clearly using her.

Angela threw herself into her work. Overwatch’s massive wallet was at her command, and she used it to open a children’s hospital; free to all, no questions asked. During the fall of the Australian Omnium in Alice Springs, she founded a hospital in Melbourne to help citizens of that area deal with the fallout.

She was able to save countless lives, giving of herself freely, but quite possibly her greatest medical achievement came in the form of a dying young man rescued from the streets of Kanezaka. An Overwatch strike team had been monitoring a family of Yakuza known as the Shimada Clan, mostly for blackmail schemes and criminal activities that had taken a sharp uptick after the death of their leader, Sojiro Shimada.

The destroyed young man dragged to Angela’s lab was missing both his legs, his right arm, and several internal organs were so damaged they had to be stabilized with cybernetics. Reyes had given the young Genji Shimada a choice; die in a Japanese hospital alone, or be rebuilt.

Angela protested the clear coercion of the poor man. He was on enough painkillers to take down an elephant and Reyes was threatening him? Reyes turned his ire on her, commanding her to rebuild Genji with combat in mind. While Angela simply wanted to restore Genji to the point of being…just a functional young man again, Overwatch wanted a soldier. Under duress, Angela slowly began rebuilding Genji.

The two began to build a close bond. After all, the physical therapy alone would take time. Genji proved a gentle, sharp-witted and humorous companion, and with only a single biological limb to his name…there was a lot of talking to be done. Even after his rebuild Angela and Genji often stayed up late in her laboratory, Genji being an infamous insomniac and Angela working late into the evening. Genji remains the only member of the Overwatch team to stand her terrible coffee. She fostered a love of Swiss chocolate in him, and the pair have continued to write letters to each other to this day.

Angela despised what Overwatch had done to Genji as she watched his work in Blackwatch unfold, and filed numerous complaints against Reyes for his actions. After the fall of Blackwatch, she made the case for Genji to transfer as an Overwatch agent, happy that he was no longer in the shadows.

As tensions between omnics and humans in Kings Row reached their breaking point, Morrison assembled a strike team to aid London. London, wanting nothing to do with Overwatch after the Venice incident and the chaos that befell Blackwatch, refused their aid. Morrison, desperate, assembled the “cleanest” agents to seize back control of London from Null Sector: Oxton, Lindholm, Wilhelm…and Angela Ziegler. Their success was legendary.

For but a brief moment, it seemed Overwatch would recover. Lena Oxton was plastered all over London as the new it girl, but the death of Overwatch was coming.

The explosion at the Swiss Headquarters displaced everyone. With Morrison and Reyes assumed dead, Overwatch was scattered to the winds and the organization collapsed under controversy. The Petras Act was put into place, forbidding Overwatch agents from acting under the authority of the world government.

Angela was disgusted by what she found during the declassification. Her technology had been used to make bombs, sleeping darts, and withering poisons. Lindholm had returned to Gothenburg and Reinhardt Wilhelm had gone with him to be closer to his godchildren…with the people she cared about retired, and Genji finding himself in Nepal, Angela turned to caring for her tattered reputation.

She returned to Cairo, as Overwatch was responsible for the economic collapse of the area, and began rebuilding. People hated her. She wasn’t welcome, her or her wings, and for the sake of everyone around her…the Valkyrie suit was stored away, the staff was stowed, and she abandoned her technology in favor of returning to her roots.

Angela ignored Winston’s recall. She saw him as a naive gorilla who needed the organization to feel whole, and after tending to Morrison’s wounds in Cairo, seeing her leader’s obsession with the Swiss incident and Reyes, she wanted nothing to do with it.

Angela Ziegler still appears where she is needed, flying where she can and assisting the wounded and sick. She will always answer a call for help from Genji, or her adoptive Lindholm family, but her time in Overwatch is done. She never wanted to become Mercy. All she wanted to do was help, and she believed her time best spent atoning for Overwatch’s sins.

However…new crises are looming every day. Talon and Null Sector are rising, causing more and more suffering.

Perhaps, when it comes to becoming a hero…our beloved Mercy has less of a choice than she wants.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[everythingwritingg]

Nanowrimo Tips

@everything.writing on IG

I really can’t believe Nanowrimo is fast approaching. 2023 has gone by so fast and we’re more than 75% of the way done with the year. October is coming to a close and November is approaching. Now is the season for pies, turkeys, and of course, NaNoWriMo. Whether this is your first time or you’ve done every one of them since they began, here is a list of tips to help you have a pleasant Nano experience.

First, what is NaNoWriMo? Whenever I post anything about Nano, I always get a bunch of questions asking what it is. It stands for National Novel Writing Month and happens every November. Writers challenge themselves and each other to write 50,000 words a month, which equates to 1667 words a day. You can go to Nanowrimo.org to participate.

Choose a story idea you’re excited about. A lot of people find themselves quitting their projects because they lose interest. While it might be hard to predict how you’ll feel about a project down the line, try to choose an idea you’re interested in, such as in your favorite genre. If you’re trying to continue an existing project, make sure you love it!

Break the monthly goal into weekly and daily goals. Thinking about writing 50K words is daunting and can make you tempted to procrastinate, so split it up into chunks of days and weeks. You can choose to write 1667 words every single day (I’ve done that), but it might benefit you to have some flexibility. One thing I find helpful is weekly goals such as 12K words a week so maybe you can write more words on weekends when you’re less busy. And remember that November is a whole month, so maybe you’re a little busier wrapping up some work deadlines at the beginning of the month, but then you go on Thanksgiving break. Or maybe you’re busier around the end of the month due to visiting family so you’ll write more in early November.

Be prepared by doing PrepTober. While you definitely don’t need to get every single detail down on paper, you should at least have an idea of your beginning, middle, and ending. This will make you more efficient since you’ll reduce the time you need to think. It can also make the process way less stressful.

Focus on getting the first draft done. Don’t edit as you go, because it’ll take more time. Instead, focus on getting the words down. You can edit later, but you can’t edit if you have nothing written. This might be hard to stomach for perfectionists, but you can absolutely edit in December.

Hold yourself accountable. Some people like having writing buddies to share progress, while others like to post their progress on social media. Whatever works for you and keeps you motivated. If you’re self-motivated, you can also keep a journal of how many words you wrote a day.

Work in places that promote productivity. This looks different for everyone. Some like to listen to music, others like writing in silence. Whether you prefer writing at a desk or on the couch, this is all up to personal preference. What normally makes you more productive?

Don’t stress too much. If writing 50K words is too much for you to handle, you can set your goal lower like 20 or 30K. November is a hectic month for some people, with work, school, and family. Unless you’re a full-time writer, you likely have some responsibilities more important than writing. It’s ok to put writing on the backburner if it’s affecting your ability to get some of them done or negatively impacting your mental health.

If you’re participating in Nano this year, I wish you the best of luck. If you’re not, then I wish you luck with your writing and life goals this month. Don’t hesitate to comment if you have questions, and I hope you enjoyed!

[meraki24601]

NaNo Snippet

Hey, friends! NaNoWriMo is in full swing. It's late, so I'm up making bad decisions.

I recently wrote a very whumpy scene involving a car accident and thought I would share a bit of it. The scene is still pretty rough and unedited, but I hope you enjoy it! If it inspires you to continue the story please tag me. I want to see your work!

For context: Caleb (current main character) is on his way to the store and already had to stop very suddenly in some traffic for emergency vehicles to pass. It's cold outside and there are a few patches of black ice where the buildings' shadows haven't allowed the morning sun to shine on the road.

-----------*-***-*-----------

As time slowed around him, Caleb’s fears became reality. Another car topped the hill too quickly. Their tires squealed as Caleb’s gaze jumped from the vehicle in front of him to his rearview mirror. His eyes focused on the scene just in time to see the braking car hit the patch of ice and lose control.

They were going to hit Caleb’s car. They were going to hit hard, too. Cars were fast approaching in the other lane. The cars in front of Caleb were closer together than normal from having to suddenly stop for the emergency vehicles. Despite the cold November day, there were even a few people out on the sidewalk. 

It was about to happen. Caleb could almost feel the vibration of the road from the other car skidded helplessly across it. The vehicles in the other lane had seen and were trying to stop, but they were too close to make it. If the sliding car shoved Caleb’s car into their lane, they would hit each other’s driver’s side dead on, not only killing Caleb but the other driver as well. On the other hand, if Caleb held his car straight, the sliding car would hit him hard enough it would probably end in a train of cars rear-ending each other all the way down to the light. Not a good option either. 

The last hope was the sidewalk. Just ahead of Caleb’s car was a street light. There was a chance that if the other car pushed him to the side and into the light pole, enough of the momentum would be eliminated that possibly only the car in front of Caleb would also be hit. Of course, if he was shoved over far enough and hard enough, Caleb could be crushed in the process. 

He turned his wheel.

The car hit him hard from behind. Caleb’s head hit his airbag even harder. The strangled cry of twisting metal rang out as a horrid smell filled the air.

Silence.

Screams.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

My nano prose is very sparse at the moment. Do you have any tips for increasing word count?

Oh I feel you! Honestly the way I've been approaching it is kind of like... bigger is better? NaNo is funny because typically I wouldn't just say you know, overstuff your prose (unless that's what you want!) for the sake of it, but part of the fun I think is experimenting with ways to lengthen writing too, because of the nature of the challenge. So while it seems antithetical, if I know there's a longer way to phrase something, I will. I've been surprised by where that can lead--I've unlocked some really interesting aspects of voice (and also... word count lol). I go back and see if I can add descriptions every couple of sentences, which has been fun because I'm funnily not very intentional about descriptions. I also have been writing SO MANY flashbacks. If I need word count fast... FLASHBACK. And that's because I find they don't have to be attached to a causal chain as clearly as events in the fictive present.

[pritee43]

Unlocking Digital Marketing’s Potential in the Modern Era

The revolutionary potential of digital marketing is too important for organizations to overlook in today’s fast-paced, digitally connected society. Digital marketing is always changing as we enter the digital age, providing new tools and approaches for efficiently reaching and interacting with target consumers. Let’s examine the main developments, tactics, and advantages of digital marketing for companies hoping to prosper in this ever-changing environment.

Digital marketing: what is it?”

All forms of marketing that make use of electronic devices and the internet are referred to as digital marketing. Through digital marketing, which includes social media platforms, email marketing, search engine optimization (SEO), and paid advertising, firms may reach potential customers online, where they spend most of their time.

Why is Digital Marketing Important?

🌍 Global Reach: Digital marketing enables companies to achieve a worldwide audience at a significantly lower cost than traditional marketing techniques.

💰 Cost-Effectiveness: Small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) can compete with larger companies by using targeted, data-driven campaigns.

📏Measurable Outcomes: Analytics technologies give firms accurate information on how well their campaigns are performing, enabling them to make real-time strategy adjustments.

🤝 Customer Engagement: Email campaigns, social media, and interactive content build deep relationships with audiences that promote trust and loyalty.

2024’s Top Digital Marketing Trends

🎥 Video Marketing: Users’ attention is dominated by platforms such as Instagram Reels, YouTube, and TikTok. Live streaming and short-form videos increase brand visibility and engagement.

🌟 Influencer Marketing Evolution: Working with micro and nano influencers is beginning to work better for genuine engagement and niche targeting.

🌱 Sustainability and Ethical Marketing: Customers are favoring brands that share their values, such as social responsibility and sustainability.

Essential Digital Marketing Strategies

🔍 Search Engine Optimization (SEO): To increase organic visibility, spend money on technical SEO, keyword research, and excellent content.

📱 Social Media Marketing: strategically engage your target audience by using Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and Pinterest.

✍️ material Marketing: Provide your audience with engaging, educational, and entertaining material. Videos, podcasts, infographics, and blogs are all great forms.

💳 Pay-Per-Click (PPC) Advertising: Paid advertisements on social media and Google Ads guarantee that your material is seen by the right people in a timely manner.

📧 Email Marketing: One of the best strategies for nurturing leads and keeping clients is still using personalized email marketing.

Methods for Assessing the Success of Digital Marketing

The performance of campaigns may be clearly understood by looking at metrics like website traffic, conversion rates, click-through rates (CTR), and return on investment (ROI).

📊 Analytics Tools: Websites such as HubSpot, SEMrush, and Google Analytics assist in tracking and analyzing data to make well-informed decisions.

Digital Marketing’s Future Digital marketing will be further incorporated into daily lives as technology develops. Leading companies will be those who value customer-centric strategy, embrace innovation, and keep up with trends.

Conclusions: Digital marketing is a crucial component of contemporary corporate strategy, not merely a passing fad. Businesses may improve brand loyalty, establish closer ties with their consumers, and achieve sustainable growth by utilizing the newest technologies and strategies. The secret to success in the rapidly evolving digital landscape is to be flexible and innovative, regardless of your level of experience as a marketer. In 2025, embrace digital marketing to see your company reach new heights!

[technocleanau]

The Future of Clean: Cutting-Edge Cleaning Technologies

The world of cleaning has come a long way from traditional mop and bucket methods. In today's fast-paced and technologically advanced society, cleanliness and hygiene have never been more critical. As our understanding of the importance of sanitation and sustainability grows, so too does the need for cutting-edge cleaning technologies. In this article, we explore the latest advancements in the world of cleaning technology and the role that companies like Techno Clean play in shaping the future of clean.

The Evolution of Cleaning Technology

Cleaning technology has evolved dramatically over the years. What was once a labor-intensive and time-consuming task is now being revolutionized by innovative tools, equipment, and processes. These advancements not only make cleaning more efficient and effective but also contribute to a healthier and more sustainable world.

Key Innovations in Cleaning Technology

Robotic Cleaners: One of the most significant technological advancements in the cleaning industry is the proliferation of robotic cleaners. These smart machines are designed to autonomously clean floors, windows, and even air ducts. Equipped with sensors and artificial intelligence, they can navigate spaces efficiently and ensure thorough cleaning. Techno Clean, a leading company in the field, offers a range of robotic cleaning solutions to meet various cleaning needs.

Ultraviolet-C (UV-C) Disinfection: UV-C technology is another game-changer in the cleaning industry. It harnesses the power of ultraviolet light to disinfect surfaces and kill bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens. Techno Clean utilizes UV-C technology in their cleaning equipment to provide safe and effective disinfection services. This technology has seen increased adoption, particularly in healthcare facilities and high-traffic public spaces, as a critical tool in the fight against infectious diseases.

Sustainable Cleaning Solutions: Environmental consciousness is a driving force behind the development of sustainable cleaning technologies. Companies like Techno Clean are committed to reducing the environmental impact of their operations. They offer green cleaning solutions that use eco-friendly chemicals and reduce water consumption. These efforts not only protect the environment but also promote healthier indoor air quality.

Nanotechnology: Nanotechnology has found its way into the cleaning industry, enhancing the cleaning process at a microscopic level. Nano-coatings can be applied to surfaces to make them more resistant to dirt, water, and stains, reducing the frequency and effort required for cleaning. This innovative approach is making surfaces easier to maintain in various environments, from homes to commercial spaces.

Techno Clean: Pioneering the Future of Clean

As we delve into the future of clean, one company that stands out is Techno Clean. Their commitment to staying at the forefront of cleaning technology is evident in their innovative product offerings and dedication to quality.

Techno Clean Robotic Cleaners: Techno Clean's range of robotic cleaners includes intelligent devices for various applications. These robots are designed to maximize cleaning efficiency, reduce labor costs, and enhance the overall cleanliness of spaces. They are equipped with advanced sensors, enabling them to adapt to different environments, and can be controlled remotely for precision cleaning.

UV-C Disinfection Systems: In response to the growing need for enhanced disinfection, Techno Clean has developed UV-C disinfection systems that are effective against a wide range of pathogens, including viruses and bacteria. These systems are used in a variety of settings, from healthcare facilities to offices, ensuring a safe and sanitized environment.

Green Cleaning Solutions: Techno Clean is committed to sustainability and environmental responsibility. They offer green cleaning solutions that not only deliver exceptional results but also align with eco-friendly practices. These solutions prioritize safety, efficiency, and a reduced environmental footprint.

Comprehensive Training and Support: Techno Clean not only provides cutting-edge technology but also offers comprehensive training and support to their clients. They understand that effective use of cleaning technology requires expertise, and they are committed to helping their customers achieve the best results.

Conclusion

The future of clean is bright, thanks to the ever-evolving world of cleaning technology. As we navigate a world where cleanliness and hygiene are paramount, companies like Techno Clean are at the forefront, pioneering innovative solutions to ensure spaces are cleaner, safer, and more sustainable. With a commitment to sustainability, advanced robotic cleaners, UV-C disinfection, and green cleaning solutions, Techno Clean is shaping the future of clean in a way that benefits us all.

To explore the cutting-edge cleaning technologies offered by Techno Clean, visit their website at https://technoclean.com.au/ and discover the future of clean today.

[nano-cache]

Nano was pretty sure his head couldn't be cleared. Not by fresh air, or the near-constant sedation that first week, or the stupid fucking speech pathology he'd been forced to partake in. But he followed Slate out, leaving Conny sitting against the window inside. "You're all like a...fucking hive mind here, huh?" Word seemed to travel fast, even without any apparent leaks out. After all, Nano was pretty confident Link wasn't calling anyone up to gossip, especially when she was practically militant about assuring everyone he was healing super well! Getting back on course!

"Yeah, Link's, uh...really been there for me," which was one fifth of the story, considering there were four other Caches keeping his ass alive. "Cress?" She'd spent more time in his house than he had. Honestly, he still hadn't even bothered to look at everything she'd done during her DIY Barbie residency in Three. "Do you have a name, or does this really do it for you -- this air of mystery?" Narrowing his gaze, Nano appraised the stranger, trying to figure out how the fuck Link, Cress, and this guy were all connected. It didn't make sense, visually.

They slowed, the stranger smiling pleasantly, which only made Nano scowl more. But that was just how he always looked. No different than any other interaction he'd had, on- or off-screen. "What gave you that idea?" He wondered if anything had been picked up from the finale, when he'd told Conny. But he'd been so careful, so smart -- the cameras shouldn't have caught a thing. Besides, if they had, it wouldn't be some stranger at a party approaching him. It would be Peacekeepers, escorting him to the nearest guillotine.

"Despite what you look like?" Nano laughed, like this was a joke, a fucking funny one too. "You look like one of the worst fucking moments of my life. Sorry if my Games gave you the wrong idea, but I'm actually not a fan of leeches. Hanging out with bloodsucking parasites isn't one of my interests. Weird that it's yours."

Slate raised an eyebrow at the symbol on the window, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he gestured for Nano to follow him. "A walk sounds great," he said. "It'll help clear your head." He couldn't understand what Victors went through and never would be able to. He had a great amount of sympathy for them, and while so many had turned into machines that the Capitol used for their own purposes, he knew there were those, like Alder, like Cress, who wanted to use their power for the better. He suspected that if Nano could manage to use the raw energy he had right now towards working for the cause, it might help him.

Or maybe he was just trying to justify approaching Nano in such a vulnerable state to ask him for help. Hadn't Nano already done enough?

As they went outside, he made idle chatter, absolutely certain that not only were there ears everywhere, there were eyes too. "I've heard that you were living with the Caches," he said as they walked, "and you've met Cress, as well. Seems you've had an exciting couple of months." He led the way through the garden. The benches were all bugged, obviously, but he'd heard from two separate and reliable sources -- Avoxes who worked for the president -- that the corners of the garden were areas unable to be picked up by bugs.

Once they came to a spot he deemed safe, he stopped walking, smiling pleasantly so that any cameras trained on them wouldn't think this was anything more than a conversation about the Caches and their affinity for puzzles. "I've heard that your sympathies lie somewhat outside the realm of the Capitol," he said in a quiet voice that very much did not match his pleasant facial expression. "Despite how I look, the same can be said for me. We might have common interests." Doing this was going out on a limb, it was getting increasingly dangerous as the rebel activity picked up and so did spies, but he had to do it. There was no honor in keeping yourself completely protected.

[nanowrimo]

How to Self-Edit Without Being Overwhelmed

How many times has self-editing distracted or made a mess in your drafts? It happens to the best of us. NaNo guest Elzevera has prepared a guide to help you conquer your self-editing tendencies and do it in a more productive, efficient way.

If you consider self-editing a necessary evil you need to get over with as quickly as possible, you are not alone. Most writers heave in despair at the thought. Not to mention the crippling fear of not being good enough.

But self-editing can be an empowering experience that leaves you bursting with pride instead of wallowing in the darkest corner of your mind.

No idea how? That’s what I’m here for.

Once you master the elements of BLOT, you’ll be self-editing effectively and efficiently—with confidence—in no time.

BLOT – Break & Breathe

The first step that will make a major difference to your self-editing experience is to take breaks. Many, lengthy breaks. And here’s where the second part comes in: breathe. Know that it’s okay to take your time and to adjust self-imposed deadlines.

Many writers fight me on this step because they’re afraid of losing touch with their manuscript and of taking too long to get to the finish line.

But you know what? Losing touch with your writing is the goal here. By stepping away from your book for a few weeks—a month is ideal—you ‘forget’ what you’ve written.

This makes it easier to consider your manuscript from a fresh perspective: you’ll spot things to improve straight away. You’ll also be surprised by how good some passages already are.

BLOT - Learn & Prepare

A common mistake I see writers make when self-editing is diving in without a plan. When you wing it and read your manuscript over and over, just hoping to come across elements you can improve, several things happen:

The process gets real tedious real fast. When you repeat the same step again and again because you feel you have to, your energy will go down the drain. 

You miss important things. Because you’re looking for everything at the same time--while not understanding what you’re really looking for--you get pulled into specific passages and ignore others.

There’s no indication of how far along you are in the process, which can cause despair and hopelessness.

Luckily, there’s a simple solution to avoid all the above: educate yourself before you start. Find a framework to follow and know exactly what to look for in which round. This can reassure you that you will get to the end.

BLOT - One thing at a time

This step ties into the previous one: when you attempt to edit everything at once, you end up exhausted and frustrated. And you’ll miss a huge number of things you could have easily tackled with a one-by-one approach.

Some writers feel they should be able to do it all at once because they believe that’s how professional editors work as well.

First: self-editing is not the same as professional editing. The goal of self-editing is to make your manuscript as good as you can make it with the tools and skills you have at your disposal.

Second: when I was an editing intern at a children’s book publisher, it was the In-House Editor who kept reminding me to focus on one thing at a time. And it’s made a world of difference to how much I can improve in any piece of writing.

BLOT – Time is your friend

You may feel you need to get your novel published as soon as possible. With the entire internet shouting, you should write more and faster and daily social media posts from fellow writers who just published their book, that’s not surprising.

What no one tells you is what I’ve seen many times: when writers rush to publication, 99% of the time, they’re unhappy with the quality of their writing.

There’s the initial rush of hitting publish, but the pride fades away and is replaced by self-doubt and more negative feelings revolving around ‘why am I not good enough?’

I’m here to tell you that you are good enough. You will experience the thrill of launching your book AND the pride that comes with publishing a book you nurtured as much as possible by taking your time.

If you have questions about BLOT or self-editing, message me on Instagram @willowediting or email me at elzevera@willowediting.com. 

Are you ready to BLOT your way through the self-editing process once NaNoWriMo is over, during Camp NaNoWriMo, or as a NaNoWriMo rebel? Download my free Self-Editing Checklist here for support.

Elzevera is a self-editing coach on a mission to help fiction writers self-edit effectively and efficiently so they can self-publish without regrets. She loves to read and write fantasy, and has a soft spot for talking animal characters. She lives in the Netherlands with her husband and baby daughter, who cheer her on in the background.

Top Photo by Faye Cornish on Unsplash  

[beedesigns]

Autumn is here!

This is easily my favourite time of year, but I've gotta say that September has just vanished! How are we in the final week already? Where did it go? Still, with October fast approaching that means one thing... Preptober is almost upon us!

I don't think I will be actively participating in the big NANOWRIMO itself this year. Instead, I'm going to use Preptober to further develop the world that I came up with during June's Camp Nano.

For once I'm feeling really positive about it too! It's a total mishmash of ideas at the moment, so October's objective is going to be smoothing out the rough edges and having it all run together. I'd honestly be lost without my notion databases to do it though. Being able to cross-reference everything and have a free cross-platform place to dump everything from ideas to completed articles is amazing.

I'm starting to wonder how I survived in the 'before' times without it.

[everythingwritingg]

I really can’t believe Nanowrimo is fast approaching. 2022 has gone by so fast and we’re more than 75% of the way done with the year. October is coming to a close and November is approaching. Now is the season for pies, turkeys, and of course, NaNoWriMo. Whether this is your first time or you’ve done every one of them since they began, here is a list of tips to help you have a pleasant Nano experience.

First, what is NaNoWriMo? Whenever I post anything about Nano, I always get a bunch of questions asking what it is. It stands for National Novel Writing Month and happens every November. Writers challenge themselves and each other to write 50,000 words a month, which equates to 1667 words a day. You can go to Nanowrimo.org to participate.

Choose a story idea you’re excited about. A lot of people find themselves quitting their projects because they lose interest. While it might be hard to predict how you’ll feel about a project down the line, try to choose an idea you’re interested in, such as in your favorite genre. If you’re trying to continue an existing project, make sure you love it!

Break the monthly goal into weekly and daily goals. Thinking about writing 50K words is daunting and can make you tempted to procrastinate, so split it up into chunks of days and weeks. You can choose to write 1667 words every single day (I’ve done that), but it might benefit you to have some flexibility. One thing I find helpful is weekly goals such as 12K words a week so maybe you can write more words on weekends when you’re less busy. And remember that November is a whole month, so maybe you’re a little busier wrapping up some work deadlines at the beginning of the month, but then you go on Thanksgiving break. Or maybe you’re busier around the end of the month due to visiting family so you’ll write more in early November.

Be prepared by doing PrepTober. While you definitely don’t need to get every single detail down on paper, you should at least have an idea of your beginning, middle, and ending. This will make you more efficient since you’ll reduce the time you need to think. It can also make the process way less stressful.

Focus on getting the first draft done. Don’t edit as you go, because it’ll take more time. Instead, focus on getting the words down. You can edit later, but you can’t edit if you have nothing written. This might be hard to stomach for perfectionists, but you can absolutely edit in December.

Hold yourself accountable. Some people like having writing buddies to share progress, while others like to post their progress on social media. Whatever works for you and keeps you motivated. If you’re self-motivated, you can also keep a journal of how many words you wrote a day.

Work in places that promote productivity. This looks different for everyone. Some like to listen to music, others like writing in silence. Whether you prefer writing at a desk or on the couch, this is all up to personal preference. What normally makes you more productive?

Don’t stress too much. If writing 50K words is too much for you to handle, you can set your goal lower like 20 or 30K. November is a hectic month for some people, with work, school, and family. Unless you’re a full-time writer, you likely have some responsibilities more important than writing. It’s ok to put writing on the backburner if it’s affecting your ability to get some of them done or negatively impacting your mental health.

If you’re participating in Nano this year, I wish you the best of luck. If you’re not, then I wish you luck with your writing and life goals this month. Don’t hesitate to comment if you have questions, and I hope you enjoyed!

[ms-scarletwings]

Oh YEAH, this too that should have gone on the diagram- when it comes to what to bring to the arena with these knuckleheads it is overkill or nothing.

We’re not going home so we’re going BIG and by god we are going DIY. Crucial difference between when they’re actually fighting for their primary goal vs doing it for the fun of their rivalry. Dib’s magazine gadgets are actually hella useful under the correct circumstance, and Zim does make extremely practical modifications to his personal tech (and fails with GIR through very little fault of his own).

But it’s not really the fate of the Earth that’s at stake when it’s time for prank wars gone awry and school showdowns. No matter what either of them claim, it’s a whole different ballgame when the stakes are actually ego. The muffin throw, the Bologna virus, The Food Fight, and The Wettening were not even really scuffles to the death if you take notice. Those battles were about both of them each trying to send a message to the other in one long-going argument. Zim’s is a statement about the inherent supremacy of his species, and Dib’s is a middle finger that shouts not to underestimate humans so quickly. You ever listen to “Impress Your Creators” by Tub Ring?? The ending part of that song is Dib’s entire spirit captured in words.

If a knife fight is on the schedule, Dib’s turning up with something that looks like a scrapped Micheal Reeves/StyroPyro project, and Zim is arriving with a nuclear freaking warhead. You can’t point out Dib’s ballon launcher and forget to mention the hell of a near-planet-destroying clapback it was followed up with. When you fuck around and goad a maniac from a type III civilization (Kardashev Scale) into a contest, you get to find out real fast.

What I love about it so much is that even if Dib’s kinda fighting an impossible battle here even with access to Membrane Labs level tech, he actually is unintentionally helping the Earth whenever this happens. One of Zim’s biggest hurdles when it comes to being an invader is having a one track mind combined with absolutely no ability to prioritize. Imagine the sort of devastation the resources that went into that ocean-filled water balloon could have caused if utilized smartly. How much time did he waste creating and curing the bologna pathogen, piloting a nano-sub to keep himself from being exposed, or running that matrix simulation on dib? Dark Harvest? Bad, Bad Rubber Piggy? Room with a Moose? All of that and more was time that could have been spent on his actual assignment. Having Dib around may motivate him to keep his post up, but think about how many whole episodes have also been him completely distracted with Dib-related side quests instead of focused on world domination. Am I the only one compelled to read a little too much into Duty-Mode GIR’s assessment of a simulated Dib as so unthreatening to their operation that he doesn’t warrant serious attention even in training?

But deep down it doesn’t have to be fate of the world level serious. This is honestly the most fun Zim and Dib ever have in their respective “missions” out of every other approach. No one else to save or destroy, just two rivals beating their chest and showing off their skills to the only other being alive that actually sees them and their hard work. This is less the Goku Vs Frieza type of enemy-ship and more the kind you see between Goku and Vegata or.. opposing Pokémon trainers.

Honest truth, with every episode of this messed up show I finish rewatching I’m more are more sure that Dib is just as incompetent and short-sighted when it comes to his “mission” as Zim is. But it’s so funny to me that while Zim just makes bad plans, has awful priorities, and improvises a lot by the seat of his pants, Dib’s incompetent in the classical bumbling villain sense. Like, he’s doing the right thing, he generally has clever approaches and insights, makes full use of his resources, yet,

He’s still aesthetically and narratively such an antihero, the poor dweeb.

Observe, my magnificent Venn diagram

Only thing I didn’t want to tack on that because it bears worth of some more elaboration: Both of these two are horrible about recklessly arming their nemesis with tons of free information and striking opportunity that can only be used against them.

And Dib is worse at this, like, so… so much worse. Zim will do the classic ‘Muahahaha, now that I have you right where I want you, here’s a detailed presentation of my entire insidious plan, Batman!’ routine while at least having the class to wait until the hero is being lowered over the acid vat or tied to the train tracks. Dib, as a villain? Would start reciting that same speech while in the middle of trying to kidnap the hero, about 3 and a half steps way too early. It’s actually crazy how fast he will telegraph his next move even when he’s not in a position of having a real advantage yet.

The first time the two met and Dib stood there loudly showing himself as the most perceptive and hostile human in range? And then stood there explaining alien sleep cuffs and what he was going to do with them? And then stood there declaring war and that he’d identified Zim’s base location, swinging said cuffs around in front of the gnome brigade? Granted, he wasn’t aware of Zim’s security at the time, but the essence of that sequence was a pattern that he was more than happy to keep repeating for the next couple seasons.

Also, Zim’s brutalism, while it went to some shudder inducing places, is more expected from a genocidal maniac born from a race of colonial supremacists. It’s part of his theatrics and it’s fun for him in the same way it’s fun for his leaders to blow up innocent ice cream space-trucks and unlucky planets. Dib gets mean with their face offs in a way that’s just dripping with spite. All the time spite. Trivial, personal, petulant spite. Even more than Tak and her grudge, which, should be a lot more surprising to me. But it’s really not.

What it did do instead was remind me of a very interesting quote I once heard, from a Cracked video about online gaming behavior, of all places,