#and then BtL was it just being his favorite but that was year ago so who knows!

[synthshenanigans]

That is true! He just never mention any songs from then so I just guessed

i don't think he's going to cover any song off of icimi tbh, i think he's going to stick mainly to self-ish and the normal album. maybe a song off EIAL if we're lucky

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

hey! you're one of (if not my favorite) fanfic writers, and i just love your writing style. do you have any tips? i'm struggling with writing fanfiction, and i'm currently trying to write and original novel but am having a hard time sorting out certain aspects of the plot and putting events in chronological order.

Hi there!

Apologies for taking a minute to answer this! It’s been on my mind since you sent it though. And I have to say that this is so kind of you. I think I speak for many creatives when I say that hearing your work & style is someone’s favorite is...hell, I don’t even know what to say. It means SO much, because I think we tend to be our own worst critics & beat ourselves up for the things we feel we’re lacking instead of seeing the good sometimes. So thank you so much. 💜

As far as advice...I don’t know if I’m in a position to give very good advice at the moment (I’ve just come out of a bit of a writing hiatus myself) but I will try! I actually just stopped writing for the night to come answer this ask, because words are just not working for me tonight.

So...I finished one original novel about 12 years ago (& no, it will never see the light of day LOL) (though I did get a small scene of it published in my community college’s anthology, so maybe it’s not as awful as I remember) & have considered another over the years, but I’ve gotten caught up in the hows before too. I guess the first thing I’d like to say is that getting caught up or having a hard time sorting things out is normal. (I used to think it just meant I wasn’t cut out to be a writer, that this stuff came easy to everyone else. It doesn’t mean either of those things at all.) I think that sometimes we forget how other writers struggle when all we see is their finished product, right? In reality I feel like we’re all screaming internally. Or at least most of us are. It’s not always hard, but a lot of the time it is! And that’s okay!

The closest I’ve got to writing something “original” lately is with my characterization of Dev & Niall in Between the Lines, & once BTL is done I might tinker with it to see about adapting it into a novel. We’ll see. I use this fic as an example primarily because it’s gotten so long, & I often struggle with it in terms of “what happens between this point & this one,” & because it’s challenged me a lot. I’m going to try to think up some things that have helped me as I’ve written it, & maybe they’ll be helpful for you too?

Something I think about often is how GRR Martin talks about writers in terms of architects & gardeners, which is the idea that some writers know everything that’ll happen from the start & stick to their outline (architects) while others sort of just wing it & the story grows as they write (gardener). IDK that anyone is only one vs the other, but if I had to pick I’d say I’m a gardener type. (Which is how I’ve ended up with a fic that’s nearly 200k lmao god.) I feel like sometimes not knowing what happens next keeps me from writing. Trying to “figure it out” can almost become a form of procrastination for me. So if that’s relatable to you, I’d say the best thing to do is just write. You don’t have to know everything. I’d argue that you don’t even have to know all that much. Sometimes once you start writing—& they don’t have to be good words, just words!—the story starts to weave itself. In the case of BTL, I’ve had some basic things I want to happen. We’ll call them points A — D. And while I’m trying to get from one point to the next, some stuff will happen on the side, or something wild will happen between points C & D that I wasn’t expecting, so now I have other things I need to address before moving on. Which brings me to my next point:

One of the best pieces of advice I ever saw on this site was this: a plot is a problem for the characters to solve. I’m paraphrasing. But the gist is that these solvable problems drive the story. Something I struggled with a lot when I was first starting BTL was plot. And then I realized I already had one. The plot centers around Baz’s mental health & how that affects his relationships. End goal is him & Simon living “realistically ever after” (& Dev & Niall, too!), but there are a lot of problems to solve on their way to that ending. And each problem solved leads to a new problem. (Which reminds me of that Simon quote from CO when they’re having their first kiss, lol.)

My point here is that you don’t need a big sweeping plot (unless of course that’s what you want). Everyday stuff can serve as a plot & guide you.

I hate to say this because I’m not sure it’s actually helpful, but the remedy here is just to write. I work a LOT more out by writing than I do by sitting around thinking about what to write. Sometimes the words come easy. A lot of the time it’s like pulling teeth. But they do come, & you’ll find that you’re figuring things out as you go.

Also, be kind to yourself. There was a while there where writing was ALL I was focused on. I’m currently trying to compartmentalize, because it’s almost like this story became my life. And while I do love it & want to write it & share it, I ended up overlooking other important things in my life in the name of worrying about writing. And so I am on a little journey to find balance now.

Also, it’s okay to write words that suck. Something I’ve experienced the last few days is feeling like the words I’m putting down are awful & out of character & this that or the other, BUT that’s what editing is for. It’s better to have mediocre first draft words down than no words at all. And a lot of the time, it turns out that the words I’ve written aren’t mediocre at all. I just wasn’t trusting the process while I was writing them. I was being too judgmental. Sometimes (a lot of the time) that judgment is really unnecessary. And sometimes our subconscious knows a lot more than we give it credit for.

...I feel like I’ve been rambling & I’m very unsure any of this is helpful at all, but I hope it is!

I went trolling through my blog because I know I’ve gotten asks similar to this before, but I only found one before I got tired lol (I should really put stuff like this under its own tag, whoops). I might’ve said something useful here. Also @vkelleyart shared some tips the other day that you might find helpful!

thanks so much again for the kind words!!! they really mean a lot. & i hope my answer here helps a bit. good luck with your stories!!! 💜

[elkavla-blog]

κη͵ Veils

The Fusion is a place that gradually grows on you over time. High corporate life filter in and out of the floating oasis that hovers in the heart of the East district. The sight of exuberant souls intertwines and move in rhythm to piano music- from fine wine that flows through their bodies and leave their minds addled to all the fears and sorrows that surround them from the city of Insilico. The entrance alone was something of an illusion to lure guests into the pearly white interior that cuddles snowy fog and mingles with the sweet scent of perfume secreting from high-class synthetic sex-dolls. It all feels like the ideal hallucination of what heaven could be; a heaven host to those who dress in the masks of angels.

Too many times I found myself here, no better than the rest who frequent the venue. Petty, obnoxious business figures holding drab conversations about corporate culture, their high grades of BTLs, and how big…of a UBC account they had. It becomes tiring. Frequent cameos of Mr. Sullivan was usually a decent break from it. But he had become such a bore as of late, and who would know when he’d catch a clue. Someone else would have to do in piquing my interest instead. No one was in sight though; no one to drive my curiosity. I sat alone, only in the company of a glass of moët running empty and a waitress of the staff to refill it. Nikita… was her name. Easily spooked. A simple sight of scars etched on my chest was enough to make her feel uneasy- and even the sound of piano keys being struck from the center piece of the bar would startle her. 

The song being played… Moonlight Sonata.

I recognized it immediately within the first two bars being played. The 2nd Movement. I had to set my glass down and fully take in the sound. No distractions, no need for a buzz- the music was enough to carry my mind away. And so, I tucked long strands behind my ear to catch the full tone of the piano. Yet, my eyes felt curious to catch a glance to the musician at work. It was no other than Mr. Hughes. The fiery-haired devil. It had been many moons since the last I had seen him. Within the midst of his playing he caught my eye in contact with his, taking a moment to flash a smile and greet me.

"It’s been a while since I have been home. How are you doing? Please forgive me... it’s been a while, your name alludes me but your face is familiar."

I couldn’t say that was the first time I heard that. But of course, I played coy… just for a moment. Enough to let him pull his attention back to playing. Enough time for me to let up from my seat and trail behind him out of his sight and offer my name in a light airy tone of voice to carry through the cool breeze like cries of a siren…

His reaction in turn… was dull, though to follow with amusement as I would continue my attempt to charm him with irrelevant chit-chat as he concluded his playing while sipping my champagne until my glass went parched. The bar would continue to fill in as we spoke, and in-turn distracting him from me. The man had my highest interest, though, more than anyone else there, and I had to make sure he would know that. It had become my mission to learn more about him.

So, I sat down to the piano, and began playing; finishing where he left off to continue in with the 3rd Movement of the Sonata and in hopes to grab his attention more. The piano was an instrument I had much loathed in my later teen years, but re-experiencing the emotion of the music proved to be cathartic as I played. My fingers interlocked and danced gracefully along the keys in the alternating arpeggio of notes, all in sequence from years of muscle memory. It was something I was required to master, by Poppa’s wishes. An impression to leave. One of many ways to prove to be able to stay. To fit in…

"Again."

My attention would span over to my right. A miss-press of a key towards my finishing. A fuck up. No. It was just Mr. Hughes, standing beside me to offer a glass of wine; a drink he had promised me from the many moons ago. Our conversation would continue, and I would learn even more of him to follow. He turned out to be the manager of the Fusion, but also an advertiser to the Reakt0r and Buddha Bowl. A very busy man he was, with very many talents. I went on to tease him, poking fun for forgetting my name, yet remembering the promise to buy me a drink.

“I have talents. I remember faces and what I promise to them rather than just names. You can have many names, but not many faces."

Words of many truths that stuck out to me and tossed my mind into wonder.

I finally took the glass he had for me, in hand. “Merlot… side of tears of blood.” "My favorite flavor… " I would joke with him. A joke that left a daring impression on him. A joke that would pull his full attention towards me, in which an invitation back to his private quarters would be requested…

…and that I would accept.