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thewriteadviceforwriters · 4 months ago

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25 Prose Tips For Writers 🖋️✨ Part 1

Hey there!📚✨

As writers, we all know that feeling when we read a sentence so beautifully crafted that it takes our breath away. We pause, reread it, and marvel at how the author managed to string those words together in such a captivating way. Well, today I'm going to unpack a few secrets to creating that same magic in your own writing. These same tips I use in my writing.

But before I begin, please remember that writing is an art form, and like any art, it's subjective. What sounds beautiful to one person might not resonate with another. The tips I'm about to share are meant to be tools in your writer's toolkit, not rigid rules. Feel free to experiment, play around, and find what works best for your unique voice and style.

Power of Rhythm 🎵

One of the most overlooked aspects of beautiful prose is rhythm. Just like music, writing has a flow and cadence that can make it pleasing to the ear (or mind's ear, in this case). Here are some ways to incorporate rhythm into your writing:

a) Vary your sentence length: Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, flowing ones. This creates a natural ebb and flow that keeps your reader engaged.

Example: "The sun set. Darkness crept in, wrapping the world in its velvet embrace. Stars winked to life, one by one, until the sky was a glittering tapestry of light."

b) Use repetition strategically: Repeating words or phrases can create a hypnotic effect and emphasize important points.

Example: "She walked through the forest, through the shadows, through the whispers of ancient trees. Through it all, she walked with purpose."

c) Pay attention to the stressed syllables: In English, we naturally stress certain syllables in words. Try to end important sentences with stressed syllables for a stronger impact.

Example: "Her heart raced as she approached the door." (Stronger ending) vs. "She approached the door as her heart raced." (Weaker ending)

Paint with Words 🎨

Beautiful prose often creates vivid imagery in the reader's mind. Here are some techniques to help you paint with words:

a) Use specific, concrete details: Instead of general descriptions, zoom in on particular details that bring a scene to life.

Example: Instead of: "The room was messy." Try: "Crumpled papers overflowed from the waste bin, books lay spine-up on every surface, and a half-eaten sandwich peeked out from under a stack of wrinkled clothes."

b) Appeal to all five senses: Don't just describe what things look like. Include smells, sounds, textures, and tastes to create a fully immersive experience.

Example: "The market bustled with life. Colorful fruits glistened in the morning sun, their sweet aroma mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs. Vendors called out their wares in sing-song voices, while customers haggled in animated tones. Sarah's fingers brushed against the rough burlap sacks of grain as she passed, and she could almost taste the tang of ripe oranges on her tongue."

c) Use unexpected comparisons: Fresh similes and metaphors can breathe new life into descriptions.

Example: Instead of: "The old man was very thin." Try: "The old man was a whisper of his former self, as if life had slowly erased him, leaving behind only the faintest outline."

Choose Your Words Wisely 📚

Every word in your prose should earn its place. Here are some tips for selecting the right words:

a) Embrace strong verbs: Replace weak verb + adverb combinations with single, powerful verbs.

Example: Instead of: "She walked quickly to the store." Try: "She hurried to the store." or "She dashed to the store."

b) Be specific: Use precise nouns instead of general ones.

Example: Instead of: "She picked up the flower." Try: "She plucked the daisy."

c) Avoid clichés: Clichés can make your writing feel stale. Try to find fresh ways to express common ideas.

Example: Instead of: "It was raining cats and dogs." Try: "The rain fell in sheets, transforming the streets into rushing rivers."

Play with Sound 🎶

The sound of words can contribute greatly to the beauty of your prose. Here are some techniques to make your writing more musical:

a) Alliteration: Repeating initial consonant sounds can create a pleasing effect.

Example: "She sells seashells by the seashore."

b) Assonance: Repeating vowel sounds can add a subtle musicality to your prose.

Example: "The light of the bright sky might ignite a fight."

c) Onomatopoeia: Using words that sound like what they describe can make your writing more immersive.

Example: "The bees buzzed and hummed as they flitted from flower to flower."

Art of Sentence Structure 🏗️

How you structure your sentences can greatly affect the flow and impact of your prose. Here are some tips:

a) Use parallel structure: When listing items or actions, keep the grammatical structure consistent.

Example: "She came, she saw, she conquered."

b) Try periodic sentences: Build suspense by putting the main clause at the end of the sentence.

Example: "Through storm and strife, across oceans and continents, despite all odds and obstacles, they persevered."

c) Experiment with sentence fragments: While not grammatically correct, sentence fragments can be powerful when used intentionally for emphasis or style.

Example: "She stood at the edge of the cliff. Heart racing. Palms sweating. Ready to jump."

Power of White Space ⬜

Sometimes, what you don't say is just as important as what you do. Use paragraph breaks and short sentences to create pauses and emphasize important moments.

Example: "He opened the letter with trembling hands.

Inside, a single word.

'Yes.'"

Read Your Work Aloud 🗣️

One of the best ways to polish your prose is to read it aloud. This helps you catch awkward phrasing, repetitive words, and rhythm issues that you might miss when reading silently.

Edit Ruthlessly ✂️

Beautiful prose often comes from rigorous editing. Don't be afraid to cut words, sentences, or even entire paragraphs if they don't serve the overall beauty and effectiveness of your writing.

Study the Masters 📖

Please! Read widely and pay attention to how your favorite authors craft their prose. Analyze sentences you find particularly beautiful and try to understand what makes them work.

Practice, Practice, Practice 💪

Like any skill, writing beautiful prose takes practice. Set aside time to experiment with different techniques and styles. Try writing exercises focused on specific aspects of prose, like describing a scene using only sound words, or rewriting a simple sentence in ten different ways.

Remember, that developing your prose style is a journey, not a destination. It's okay if your first draft isn't perfect – that's what editing is for! The most important thing is to keep writing, keep experimenting, and keep finding joy in the process.

Here are a few more unique tips to help you on your prose-perfecting journey:

Create a Word Bank 🏦

Keep a notebook or digital file where you collect beautiful words, phrases, or sentences you come across in your reading. This can be a great resource when you're looking for inspiration or the perfect word to complete a sentence.

Use the "Rule of Three" 3️⃣

There's something inherently satisfying about groups of three. Use this to your advantage in your writing, whether it's in listing items, repeating phrases, or structuring your paragraphs.

Example: "The old house groaned, creaked, and whispered its secrets to the night."

Power of Silence 🤫

Sometimes, the most powerful prose comes from what's left unsaid. Use implication and subtext to add depth to your writing.

Example: Instead of: "She was heartbroken when he left." Try: "She stared at his empty chair across the breakfast table, the untouched coffee growing cold."

Play with Perspective 👁️

Experiment with different points of view to find the most impactful way to tell your story. Sometimes, an unexpected perspective can make your prose truly memorable.

Example: Instead of describing a bustling city from a human perspective, try describing it from the point of view of a bird soaring overhead, or a coin passed from hand to hand.

Use Punctuation Creatively 🖋️

While it's important to use punctuation correctly, don't be afraid to bend the rules a little for stylistic effect. Em dashes, ellipses, and even unconventional use of periods can add rhythm and emphasis to your prose.

Example: "She hesitated—heart pounding, palms sweating—then knocked on the door."

Create Contrast 🌓

Juxtapose different elements in your writing to create interest and emphasis. This can be in terms of tone, pacing, or even the literal elements you're describing.

Example: "The delicate butterfly alighted on the rusted barrel of the abandoned tank."

Use Synesthesia 🌈

Synesthesia is a condition where one sensory experience triggers another. While not everyone experiences this, using synesthetic descriptions in your writing can create vivid and unique imagery.

Example: "The violin's melody tasted like honey on her tongue."

Experiment with Sentence Diagrams 📊

Remember those sentence diagrams from school? Try diagramming some of your favorite sentences from literature. This can give you insight into how complex sentences are structured and help you craft your own.

Create a Sensory Tour 🚶‍♀️

When describing a setting, try taking your reader on a sensory tour. Move from one sense to another, creating a full, immersive experience.

Example: "The old bookstore welcomed her with the musty scent of aging paper. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight piercing the high windows. Her fingers trailed over the cracked leather spines as she moved deeper into the stacks, the floorboards creaking a greeting beneath her feet. In the distance, she could hear the soft ticking of an ancient clock and taste the faint bitterness of old coffee in the air."

Use Active Voice (Most of the Time) 🏃‍♂️

While passive voice has its place, active voice generally creates more dynamic and engaging prose. Compare these two sentences:

Passive: "The ball was thrown by the boy." Active: "The boy threw the ball."

Magic of Ordinary Moments ✨

Sometimes, the most beautiful prose comes from describing everyday occurrences in a new light. Challenge yourself to find beauty and meaning in the mundane.

Example: "The kettle's whistle pierced the quiet morning, a clarion call heralding the day's first cup of possibility."

Play with Time ⏳

Experiment with how you present the passage of time in your prose. You can stretch a moment out over several paragraphs or compress years into a single sentence.

Example: "In that heartbeat between his question and her answer, universes were born and died, civilizations rose and fell, and their entire future hung in the balance."

Use Anaphora for Emphasis 🔁

Anaphora is the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses or sentences. It can create a powerful rhythm and emphasize key points.

Example: "She was the sunrise after the longest night. She was the first bloom of spring after a harsh winter. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. She was hope personified, walking among us."

Create Word Pictures 🖼️

Try to create images that linger in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. These don't have to be elaborate – sometimes a simple, unexpected combination of words can be incredibly powerful.

Example: "Her laughter was a flock of birds taking flight."

Use Rhetorical Devices 🎭

Familiarize yourself with rhetorical devices like chiasmus, antithesis, and oxymoron. These can add depth and interest to your prose.

Example of chiasmus: "Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country." - John F. Kennedy

Even the most accomplished authors continue to hone their craft with each new piece they write. Don't be discouraged if your first attempts don't sound exactly like you imagined – keep practicing, keep experimenting, and most importantly, keep writing.

Your unique voice and perspective are what will ultimately make your prose beautiful. These techniques are simply tools to help you express that voice more effectively. Use them, adapt them, or discard them as you see fit. The most important thing is to write in a way that feels authentic to you and brings you joy.

Happy writing, everyone! 🖋️💖📚 - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

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isalisewrites · 6 months ago

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A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books.

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series:

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post:

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits.

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here.

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him.

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world.

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further.

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

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mermaidgirl30 · 10 months ago

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✨Love and Coffee in the Mornings✨

This was a fun little writing challenge I did for @moonlight-prose and I had so much fun with the prompt “You want me to make you some coffee?” I just wrote this up this morning, so I hope you enjoy! ☕️ Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, always happy to hear your thoughts ☺️

Pairings: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, love making, love confessions, outbreak! Joel, soft Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You awake to specks of light peeking in through the drawn tasseled curtains and a morning dove cooing its soft tune up on the roof. You blink once, twice and rub the sleep from your tired eyes. The room is still, almost a parallel world inside these walls compared to the outside gates of Jackson.

You lay in nothing in the king sized bed, only the tossed up cotton sheets to cover you. That’s not all that covers you though. No. Joel’s massive body crowds your space and his thick arms cage you to him as he drapes them around you and holds you up against his broad chest. His thick fingers are entwined with yours, and you can’t help but feel a wave of intense emotion flow through you from the feel of it all. The feel of him. Joel. Your soft, gentle man that only shows that side of himself to you. Only you.

A smile tugs at your heartstrings and a wet tear rolls down to the pillow from the corner of your eye as you take it all in. He’s yours. Yours, yours, yours. And you belong to him. His, his, his. It’s like a love song that plays through your mind, winding around all your brain cells and making its way down to your beating heart that only beats for him. Just for him, only him.

His slow breaths are relaxed and deep behind you as he sleeps with his head rested in the crook of your neck. You can smell him, taste him as his lips kiss the side of your jawline, the scruff of his beard tickling the inside of your neck, and his tousled curls fall against your cheek, sticking to the sweat that remains from last night.

You remember last night so clearly. It was one of the best nights of your life. Every night with Joel is like that, like a dream you were sucked into, and you just can’t wrap your head around that it’s real. He’s real. Your perfect, brooding man that never goes a day without showing you how much he really loves you.

Love. The first time he ever told you was a week ago while he held you tight in his arms inside the bathtub. You remember, remember like it was just seconds ago. The way he took your hand and turned you around to face him. The way he so gently cupped your chin and stroked his calloused thumb up and down your jawline. The way he looked so intensely into your eyes with those doe eyes that were flecked with spots of sunshine that shine only for you. And the way he called you his ray of sunshine, sending your heart spiraling out of your chest from just the way he was looking at you. His soft gaze said it all. He was in love with you. And the way that the words tumbled from his mouth like it was effortless to him made tears well up in your eyes.

“My ray of sunshine. My beautiful, perfect girl,” he hummed out as he stroked your cheek and pushed back a flyaway hair behind your ear. He paused a second later, his eyes melding into yours like two hearts that beat for each other. And then he said it. He said the words. “I love you,” he whispered down at you, and that’s when the tears fell. Those happy, glistening tears that fell just for him as you said the words back to him. Slow and steady, like how your heart beats for him. Like a sea of galloping horses that run wild together on the shorelines of the ocean, free and happy.

And then there was last night. Your muscles still ached from all the love making, all the different positions he had you twisted in. And how many times did he make you cum? Three, four? You couldn’t remember. That part was a blur as he made you cum over and over again. A fresh wave of slick sticks to your thighs as you squeeze your legs tight as you remember it all.

You remember his head in between your thighs, first. How he worked you nice and slow, building that first orgasm as his rough tongue meticulously lapped circles over your clit, how he tugged and pulled you into his mouth, how his fingers curled up inside you again and again, hitting that sweet spongy spot that made you see stars. Remember the way he thrusted into you time and time again, filling you up with his seed as he rutted his hips into yours over and over again. How your legs were thrown over his shoulders as he crowded your body and showered you with gentle praises and worshipped your body over and over again.

That’s a good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come on, baby. Look at me, show me how pretty you are when you cum for me, wanna see ya.

God, he was so… perfect. In every way. You just couldn’t get enough of him. Never wanted to get enough.

You hear him stir behind you as a low groan comes from deep within his chest and feel his arms hug you tighter as he slowly opens his eyes to the harsh sunlight. You feel his lips graze your jawline as he leaves gentle kisses all the way up to the shell of your ear which makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mornin’, baby,” he whispers in your ear as another groan leaves his chest as he turns you his way and lets his hands drop down to your waist.

“Morning, handsome,” you say with a huge grin spread taut across your lips. He smiles back at you, and those cute dimples appear on his cheeks, making you blush at the sight. You push his tousled locks back and he groans as your fingers scrape against his skull. A deep groan escapes his mouth, and then he’s pulling your right leg over his thigh, opening you up for him to have access to.

“And how are you feeling this mornin’, sore?” he asks as he slides his hand down your torso, carefully ghosting his hand over your center as you shiver in response.

“Not really,” you gasp out as he slowly runs a finger over your folds, collecting slick on his fingers and spreading it all over your sex. You moan out in response and let him continue, opening your thigh up a little more for him.

“Mmm good. Because I’m hungry, and I know exactly what I want to feast on,” he smirks. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me already. Fuck,” he growls out as he turns you on your back and slides in between your thighs, slowly lifting your legs over his shoulders as you shutter in response. Touch me, taste me, you want to scream out. But he knows. He knows that’s what you want.

He slowly trails kisses up your thighs as he gets you all worked up. Slowly teasing and making you drip more for him as his thick beard tickles in between your thighs, as his large hands splay across your hips. He gets right to your center and stops just for a second to admire your glistening cunt.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he gawks as his eyes turn an amber color, his love swirling all around the flecks of his irises for you, and it makes your heart nearly stop at the sight.

“Yeah? You like what you see?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“Mhm, fuckin’ love it.” He takes his calloused thumb and spreads you apart, slowly caressing all the most sensitive spots of you. He gets up to your clit and circles and circles, eliciting a moan out of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper out, your hands grabbing the sheets as you bunch them around your fingers.

“You want more?” he asks in a husky breath, his broad shoulders flexing with every movement he makes.

“Mhm, please,” you beg, writhing underneath his touch.

He chuckles under his breath, and his eyes turn darker, more carnal as he stares up at you in between your open legs. He pulls you down further in the bed and gently blows down on your center, making your hips buck up in response. He pushes them back down and lowers his head to your pulsing center. His eyes never leave yours, they stay focused intently on you, just like a hawk watching its prey. And then he licks a long stripe from your dripping hole, all the way up your folds as his pupils expand into black pits. The image has you shuttering under his touch.

“Eyes on me now. That’s it. Just like that,” he commands as he drops back down on your cunt. He spreads your folds with his tongue, eagerly soaking each fold with the base of his tongue, slowly making his way to your aching clit. And when he finds it, he attacks. He circles and circles it with a steady pace, gently pulling it in his mouth and sucking, making your moans echo around the room as he works you up, builds that growing orgasm as you feel it already setting it. It’s right there in the base of your spine, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. He’s so fucking good at this, at eating you out. You never last long. He’s just that good. The artist that can make love to you with only his tongue, and it feels so good.

He pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole and slowly works them up and down, up and down, curling till he meets that sweet spot that has you sending more slick over his fingers. His tongue doesn’t stop. He keeps working at your throbbing bundle of nerves, keeps sucking and nipping and licking until you’re a puddle underneath him. His beard is glistening with your wetness, and it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Joellll, feels so good. I’m so close… I’m almost there-I..” your voice breaks off as he takes you into his mouth again, slowly sucking on that spot that does it for you. You squeeze against his fingers inside you, your walls fluttering as you’re about to shatter. Almost there, almost. You tangle your fingers into his tousled curls, and he groans at the sensation.

“Come on, give it to me. Let me see you cum, baby. Remember, eyes on me. Wanna see those pretty eyes focused on me when I make you cum,” he growls as he pushes up inside you more, licks up and down until he’s pulling you into his mouth again. You feel the cap break inside you, feel the hot sensation taking over as you start to lose it, start to fall apart in your intense orgasm.

“Joel, I… I’m…” you can’t finish your sentence, too fucked out at the moment.

“Let me have it, pretty girl. Give me all you got,” he growls as he sucks you into his hot mouth again. And then it’s over. You’re cumming, hard.

You moan out his name and squeeze your legs around him as your eyesight goes blurry, but you focus on him, never leaving his blown out pupils as he stares up at you like a starving wolf that wants to feast on you. You let yourself go, let your walls clench up before you release white, hot liquid all over his fingers, all over his mouth.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he groans out, licking up all your spent liquid as he slowly works his fingers inside you, curling them until he has every ounce of cum that you can give him right now. You breathe out breathy moans as he licks at your now sensitive area, cleaning you up carefully as he devours you, tastes you over and over again. And you can never get enough of this. Of him, his fingers, his tongue, his soft praises. He’s too good, too good.

When he’s finished, he crawls out between your legs and joins you at the head of the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did so good for me, baby. So good,” he praises as he traces your bottom lip with his calloused thumb and presses his lips against yours slowly, delicately, like a rose petal just blossomed at the first sight of spring. He’s so gentle, so loving, so perfect.

When he pulls apart, he traces your jawline as his eyes turn to that warm honey color you love. “You want me to make you some coffee?” he asks with a gentle curve of a smile that envelops his mouth.

“I’d love some,” you respond as you beam up at him with a deep blush on your face.

“Okay, I’ll go make you some then,” he says as he pulls away, slowly sliding off the bed.

“Joel, wait,” you say urgently as your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, preventing him from going any further out of the room.

He looks back at you with his dark eyebrow raised, questions lingering in those honeyed eyes of his. God, he looks so good standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs that hug him close as you see the outline of his hard cock planted against them. His broad chest expands as his breathing is still rapid, his large veins cascading down his thick arms as his tousled locks stick up everywhere, like he’d just had morning sex, which he did. Mornings with him were your favorite thing in the entire world, he was your favorite.

“What is it?” he asks as he stands still, eyes meeting yours in question.

“I need something else from you. You need something from me,” you say shallowly as your eyes trail down to his hard erection under the thin material of his briefs.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks as his eyes turn a darker shade of molasses, a color you want to drink up, let him devour you with his sweetness.

“Fuck me,” you whisper as you bite your lower lip and spread your legs for him as you show him just how wet you are again. His eyes trail down your body and end at your center as he breathes in and lets out a deep sigh, his hand dragging through his coarse scruff on his face slowly.

“Goddamn,” he groans at the sight of you. He doesn’t waste a second. He drops his briefs to the floor and climbs in between your legs, pushing them apart as he stares in wonder at your glistening sex.

You lean forward and wrap your hand around his thick cock, tracing the lines of his large vein that runs under his glistening head, all the way down his large length. The tip of him is swollen and red, and precum leaks from his slit as you work it up and down him, hearing the wet noises you make as you fist him with your palm, enjoying seeing his eyes cloud over in a fog the more you touch him.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feels so good,” he groans as you lightly circle his tip, finding all the sensitive spots as more precum gathers over the swollen tip of him. Before you can continue working your hand over him, he pushes you down on the pillow and wraps your legs around his back as he pushes the head of his cock to your opening, barely thrusting inside before he speaks again.

“Hold on tight, love. Gonna make you feel so good,” he groans as he pushes his way inside you, stretching you to the max as he pushes deeper and deeper, until he’s bottoming out and hitting the back of your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan out as he starts to move at a steady pace. In and out, up and down as you hear the wetness of each other as he slams back into you over and over again.

His lips come down and nip at your collarbone as his hands knead over your breasts, making your nipples pebble underneath him as he rolls them under his calloused thumbs. He speeds up his tempo, angling your hips higher as he hits your spongy area time and time again, making your eyes glass over at the intense bliss you’re experiencing.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, baby. Feels so good. You’re so close, so fuckin’ close. Come on and give it to me. Show me how pretty you can cum on this cock,” he growls as he presses down on your throbbing clit, circling you until you’re screaming out his name and breathing ragged moans into his ear.

“Good girl. Come on, baby. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he thrusts into you deeper, circling your clit in the exact spot you need him to. You rake your fingers down his back and moan out as your legs squeeze the back of him. One more circle of your clit, and you’re done for. You clench up around his thick cock and release all your pent up white hot liquid on him and feel your eyes roll back at the blissful, fucked out feeling. Your body feels electric as you hear white noise spread through your ringing ears and take a minute to come back to reality. Back to your body after that blissed out high.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. So good,” he groans as he thrusts faster into you, his breathing hitching as his jaw flexes and his hands clamp up around your hips. “Gonna-fuckin’…cum. Ah, fuck,” he moans as he snaps his hips once more into you and releases his seed all over you, filling you up as his jaw goes slack and his eyes roll back. His breathing is heavy and ragged, slowly coming back to himself as he pulls slowly out of you, dragging his spend with him down your thighs.

He collapses next to you, and both of you just breathe as you catch your breath for the next few minutes. “That was incredible,” you gasp out as you fold into his arms, your heart rate going a thousand miles at the moment.

“Mmm, yes. Always is with you,” he groans out, a thick southern accent spilling out of him. And you love it, love his accent, love him.

After a few minutes of snuggling together, he gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom. When he comes back, he gently cleans you off, careful not to overstimulate your sensitive areas. “There ya go, all cleaned up,” he rasps as he throws the towel on the floor next to his ruined briefs. “Now, how’s about that coffee?” he asks with a smirk as his caramel eyes dance across your body that’s wrapped up in the sheets.

“I could go for a sweet cup of coffee,” you say as you push yourself up to a sitting position, your head still swimming from the thick cloud of arousal.

Joel comes over to put a strong hand on your shoulder and lays you back down, tucking you into the sheets as his hand caresses the back of your head. “No, you stay right here. I’ll bring the coffee up to you. You just relax. I’ll start a hot bath for you when I get back,” he says gently as he pulls on a clean pair of briefs and runs his hand through his tousled curls.

God, he’s pretty.

“Oh, uhh okay,” you reply in a whisper as you’re awestruck at how gentle and loving he’s being towards you. It took a long time to get to this point, but you made it. Now he was your soft, sweet man. Always at your attention when you needed him. And you loved him. God, you loved him. So much, so very much.

“I’ll be back up in a few minutes,” he says as he turns toward the door as the hardwood floor creaks underneath his footsteps.

“Joel?” you call out, stopping him before he can make it through the wooden door.

“Hmm?” he hums as he turns back to you, brown eyes intent on you.

“I love you,” you whisper out, enough for him to hear you through the fog of tension that wraps around the room.

His face softens and a smile splays across his face, his honey eyes shining on you like they never had before. It’s absolutely beautiful how smitten he looks at you, how in love he looks. For you had opened him up, shown him what love really looked like. And when he fell for you, he fell hard. No more rough cut edges, for he was soft now. Loving, caring, beaming for you and only you. And it was the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your entire life.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back as the trace of a teardrop forms over the film of his eyes. And then there’s nothing left in the room except pure love for one another, a cloud so thick and dense that there’s no getting past it. He was yours and you were his. Clear as day. No questions about it. “Be right back, baby,” he says as he exits the room and softly closes the door.

You lean back into the cotton sheets and bury your head against the pillow as you close your eyes, envision yourself in a field full of vibrant flowers with Joel by your side, rolling around in a bed full of roses as you lose yourself in each other. And it brings you peace, fills you with a deep satisfaction. He’s yours as much as you are his. Two souls forming into one, colliding together and ignoring everything else but each other. Your peace, your comfort, your ecstasy. It was Joel, it was always Joel.

A few minutes later, he brings you a steaming cup of coffee. You see it’s drizzled with caramel and French vanilla creamer, and it looks absolutely perfect. “Well, go on and try it. Tell me how you like it,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the cup, slowly sliding his hand up and down your thigh as he waits for you to taste the hot liquid.

You take the cup from him and blow on it, slowly taking a sip of the hot coffee as it encases your taste buds. Drops of caramel and French vanilla slide down your throat, along with the taste of the strong coffee that follows it. It’s warm, heavenly, the perfect cup of coffee you’d ever tasted.

You turn to him and smile, looking up at those honey eyes that sink into yours. “It’s absolutely perfect,” you say as you take another sip and set it on the forest green nightstand that sits next to the bed.

“Glad ya like it,” he smiles as you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him back down to the bed with you, his left arm catching your waist and his right hand gently caressing the back of your neck. He brings you to his lips and crashes them against yours as you feel his warm breath against yours. You part your lips and invite him in as his tongue glides in and finds yours, letting the coffee taste pool all over your mouth as he devours you nice and slow, just how you always like it.

When he pulls back, his calloused fingers hover over your jawline, slowly moving to cup your chin as his thumb dances over your lower lip softly. He looks at you with endearing, loving honey eyes, and you can’t shake the feeling of how completely in love you are with him. Mine, mine, mine, you scream in your head. Mine.

“I love you so much, my little ray of sunshine,” he breathes out against your neck, his eyes telling you everything you need to know.

“And I love you, so much,” you whisper out as you drag your lips across his soft plush lips.

“You wanna go take a bath with me?” he asks as he smiles down at you, his eyes lost in a daze before you.

“There’s nothing more I’d want to do,” you answer as you leave a trail of kisses down his cheek, ending at his lips as he pulls you in again, feeding all your desire for the man of your dreams that lays next to you as he consumes you in full.

“Joel?” you ask as he rolls on his back, laying you on his chest as he hums out and looks up at you with those big brown eyes that you so dearly love.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thank you for showing me what a home looked like again. Thank you for loving me, for never giving up on me,” you choke out as you tear up and smile down at him as you lay against his broad chest.

“Oh, baby. No. Thank you for never giving up on me. I know I wasn’t always easy to deal with. I wasn’t always kind, especially when I first met you. But you evened me out, showed me what real love looks like. And I can’t thank you enough. I just… I just love you, so fuckin’ much. I love you, I love you,” he cries as he cups the back of your head and pulls you down to his level, planting his lips against yours as you fall back into him time and time again.

This is where you belong, where you always want to be. It’s with Joel, it’ll always be with Joel. Your best friend, your saviour, the love of your life. And you’ll never get enough of him. Never, ever. Your forever coffee date, your forever lover, yours.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #soft!joel miller #soft joel miller #outbreak!joel #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #fluff and smut

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literaryvein-reblogs · 19 days ago

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Writing Notes: Levels of Editing

The 5 Stages of Editing: Beta Reading, Developmental Editing, Line Editing, Copyediting, Proofreading

The Editorial Process

Writing

Drafting

Sourcing feedback from beta readers

Self-editing

Developmental editing or manuscript evaluation

Line editing

Copyediting

Proofreading

Publishing

2 Levels of the Process

MACRO / STORY LEVEL

This is where developmental editing (also sometimes called content editing, substantive editing or structural editing)

and manuscript evaluations (sometimes known as manuscript reviews or editorial critiques) are to be found.

It’s big-picture work that looks at the novel as a whole. Editors who specialize in this level of service focus on how your book works – stuff like structure, plot, flow, point of view, characterization and pace.

Story-level editing involves the following concepts:

Character arc: Goals, motivations and conflict

Effective dialogue

Genre: Impact on writing style and length

Narrative arc: Beginnings, middles and ends

Narrative style: Viewpoint, tense, voice and distance

Plot and subplot analysis

Problematic representation, stereotyping and othering

Story structure and pacing

Themes: the main ideas that connect the components of the story

World-building: creating engaging settings

MICRO / SENTENCE LEVEL

Includes line editing, copyediting and proofreading.

Sentence-level work that looks at the text on a line-by-line & word-by-word basis.

Sentence-level editing involves the following:

Chapter sequencing

Character-trait consistency

Cliché and awkward metaphor

Dialogue expression: style, tagging and punctuation

Effectiveness of sentence-level narration

Letter, word, line and paragraph spacing

Narrative style: Consistency of viewpoint, tense, voice

Effectiveness of narrative distance

Pace and flow: Special attention paid to repetition and overwriting

Problematic representation, stereotyping and othering

Spelling, grammar, syntax, punctuation, hyphenation and capitalization

Standard document formatting using Word’s styles palette: indentation, paragraph style, section breaks

Told versus shown prose

The Levels of Editing

STAGE 1: BETA READING

Authors send drafts of their novel to test-readers.

To receive feedback on structural issues such as plot, pacing, characterization, writing style and reader engagement.

Not the place for uncovering micro problems (spelling/grammar).

Beta reading may be free (via, say, a writing group or a critique partner) but some professional editors provide paid-for services (sometimes called early reviews) that provide guidance on the next-best editing steps.

It’s a good first step for those who want someone else to take their novel out for a test-drive before deeper levels of intensive editing begin.

STAGE 2: DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING

Also called structural or story editing - the shaping stage where decisions that affect how the novel works as a whole are made: Plot, story arc, structure, pacing, characterization, genre, narrative viewpoint and tense.

When the reader has finished the journey, they should feel satisfied by the experience of reading your work.

The journey might be bumpy. There are peaks and troughs – action, contemplation, and deduction, all of which are structured and paced so as to engage the reader as the story unfolds.

Developmental editing is where your story is tested and revised so that readers want to turn the page.

Alternative: Manuscript Evaluations/Critiques

Critiques can be thought of as mini developmental edits.

A professional editor provides a report that analyses the strengths and weaknesses of the writing, and what the author can do to improve their book.

Unlike full developmental edits, no changes are made to the book file. They’re an affordable first step for any author who wants to learn how to implement their own structural revisions.

Additional: Sensitivity/Diversity Reading

This is a niche form of evaluation in which a specialist reports on the potential misrepresentation and devaluation of marginalized others.

Readers are looking out for cliched, harmful, biased or false content and non-inclusive language.

Sensitivity readers focus on how others’ identities are represented in terms of race, sexuality, gender, physical ability, mental or emotional health, political beliefs, religion, age, culture and socioeconomic status.

Others identify potential problems with how those who’ve experienced abuse, trauma, violence, bigotry, illness, bereavement and poverty are portrayed.

They’re a valuable addition to the editorial process for authors who want to positively diversify the voices in their fiction but don’t have the lived experience of the individuals/groups they’re writing about.

Identifying goals and selecting a sensitivity reader with the appropriate experience is essential.

STAGE 3: LINE EDITING

The smoothing stage.

Sense is checked and flow is mastered so that the reader is driven to stay on the page and immerse themselves in the story’s world.

Good writing acknowledges that readers absorb words in a certain way – in the West we read from left to right and top to bottom, regardless of the device through which the book is delivered. Though our brains allow us to take in more than one letter and one word at a time, unless we’re scanning we move through sentences from start to finish. Those sentences should say what they need to say, and only that. Too many words, or repetition of what’s already known, can make the reading experience boring and frustrating.

Authors can play with sentence length and language style to reflect the historical period, genre, and the mood of a given scene. And punctuation is not about pedantry. It’s a powerful pacer that can evoke tension and impart clarity.

If a strong story compels readers to turn the page, line editing is what helps them want to stay on it.

Alternative: Mini Line-Level Critiques

No changes are made to the book file.

Instead, a professional editor provides a report that analyses the strengths and weaknesses of sentence-level craft.

The editor may suggest recasts to dialogue and narrative with a view to improving line-level flow, pace, drama and readability.

They’ll also offer advice on layout, spelling, punctuation & grammar conventions.

They’re an affordable first step for any author who wants to learn how to implement their own sentence-level revisions.

STAGE 4: COPYEDITING

The correcting stage

Inconsistent or incorrect spelling, grammar, and punctuation are attended to, and where logic is checked, such that the reader is allowed to follow the story without distraction.

Compelling writing makes readers forget that they’re reading.

Copyediting removes distractions.

Style sheets are the author’s and editor’s friend.

They record decisions on the language choice (e.g. American or British English), style (e.g. -is- or -iz- spellings, both of which are standard in British English), proper-noun spelling, character traits, location identifiers, the book’s timeline, use of idiom, dialogue treatment, how numbers are rendered, how capitalization and hyphenation are handled, and a hundred other decisions.

Many professional editors carry out line- and copyediting simultaneously because they’re complementary processes.

STAGE 5: PROOFREADING

The quality-control stage

Any final literal errors and layout problems are flagged up such that the book is fit for publication. Since human beings are doing the editing work, it’s rare for a book to get to the pre-publication stage without a few snafus remaining.

During the previous rounds of editing, new errors might have been introduced by accident. The design process can cause problems too:

Some elements of the book (a heading, a paragraph, a footnote) might be formatted inconsistently and incorrectly … think about indents, line spaces, end-of-line wordbreaks, page-number chronology, running heads and alignment just for starters.

Proofreading is the final line of defence.

The Order of Play

There’s a logical order of play when it comes to editing.

Think of it like building a house:

Developmental editing is like laying the foundations and building the structure

Line editing and copyediting are like plastering the brickwork, painting the walls, and sanding the floorboards

Proofreading is where you move in the furniture and fill in any tiny cracks that have appeared

Swap the order around and you’ll end up in a pickle.

At best you’ll waste time; at worst you’ll waste money.

Let’s imagine you invest in smoothing your prose and eradicating most of the spelling, grammar, punctuation, and consistency problems (line editing and copyediting). Then you discover a gaping plot hole that requires you to move two chapters, rewrite three, and make 75 sentence-level tweaks throughout the rest of the book (structural amendments).

Every move, every deletion, every rewrite, and every tweak brings with it the chance of damaging the line/copyediting work.

That’s time and money down the drain.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

#editing #on writing #writing tips #writing advice #writeblr #dark academia #writing reference #spilled ink #writing inspiration #creative writing #light academia #literature #fiction #novel #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #albert aublet #writing resources

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transgenderer · 2 months ago

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it feels impossible to me sometimes how good writing can be. humanity has gotten so incredibly good at art. i like to live in the world sometimes where the greatest works in history have lived in obscurity, because in that world theres so much potential for discovery, for finding good stuff, for free lunch. and partially its true. but i think if they live in obscurity, mostly they live in modern obscurity. i think humanity has applied raw combinatorial effort, hundreds of millions of minds, to the problem of writing good fiction, and painting good paintings, and playing good music, that we dont even think about how ridiculously good weve gotten at it. i mean, obviously there are old greats. of course there are old greats. but i think theyre the exception, not the rule. modern prose can flow and dance and sing and play in a way that you just dont see before the year 1800. and barely before 1900. i think aesthetic quality is real (which i mean, come on, so do you) and i think aesthetic progress is real (this one is wacky)

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2soulscollide · 2 years ago

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10 underrated tips to become a better writer

hello hello, it's me again!

today i want to share some tips to improve your writing!

1. write in a different style

sometimes it's important to step out of our comfort zone, especially when it comes to writing. the next time you sit down to write for a bit, try to do something different from usual... try poetry if you always write prose; try fantasy if your thing is mystery; try adventure if you only write romance. it's up to you, just do it! who knows if you discover a new passion while trying this exercise...

2. write from a different point of view

i know it can be tempting to always write from a certain point of view, or to always use the same narrator voice, but (like on the first topic) sometimes change is needed to improve. you'll see things from another perspective, and maybe you can have a brilliant idea!

3. write with music

this one is one of my favorites! i love music, my spotify is full of playlists, one for each mood. try to create different playlists for your stories, and pick songs that motivate you, or that make you feel like you're one of the characters of your novel. this will not only give you a boost to write but also make you feel inspired.

4. set a timer

i always do this! it's a life changer. i started doing the pomodoro method to study and realized how effective it is. it's the same when it comes to writing: set about thirty minutes to write (it's up to you, depending on for how long you can be productive) and ten to fifteen minutes to relax. you'll see how much more work you can do with this method!

5. use prompts

you know how much i love prompts! i think they're so useful and help us so much to become more creative. they are a great way to step out of our comfort zone and develop someone else's idea in a span of a few minutes or hours.

oh, and if you're feeling adventurous, try this month's writing challenge!

6. write in a different place

guys! change your writing environment sometimes, especially when you're feeling overwhelmed or drained. i know it can be tempting to always sit on your sofa / bed / favorite chair, but sometimes we get so accustomed to the same place, that our creativity slows down, as well as our motivation. try to go outside to a park or a café, it can be so fun and you'll feel like the main character. or maybe, if you don't want to be in public, try another room in your house! just make sure you feel comfortable and don't have distractions around you.

7. change your writing support

do you always write on your computer? try to disconnect for a while, grab a pen and a paper, and let your imagination flow. it can be so freeing to write by hand sometimes, especially when you're plotting a novel! how cool it is to draw a scheme to connect all the characters and locations, and to doodle...!

8. find a writing buddy

personally, i don't have one, but i know it can be such a fun way to keep you motivated and to keep yourself (and the other person) accountable. it's great to have someone to share your ideas with, to give and receive feedback, and to lift you up to write when you don't like doing so.

9. write yourself a letter

trust me, it's amazing. it can be to your present self, past, or future, it's up to you. tell yourself what your writing goals are, what you are writing, how you see yourself in the future, what you're satisfied with your writing style, etc. just let it flow and re-read it whenever you feel unmotivated.

10. write with a sense of humor

i know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but it can be so fun sometimes. try something less serious when you don't feel like writing. try to come up with a joke mid-dialogue, write a fun scene or re-write a serious scene in a less serious way. this exercise can be great to see things from another perspective, to try a different style, or to lift up your mood.

i hope this was useful! have a nice day!

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ranticore · 22 days ago

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tiny bit of prose from 2023 from when i was working out the whole social situation of fighting and so on etc

The outsize showers were slow and too cold, the water gurgling out from ancient pipes in a pathetic trickle over Pascal’s back. He ducked under the flow to wet his hair, hoping to scrape some soap through the long brown curls, but the harsh clacks of heavy hoof-falls came a second before an arm intruded across his field of view and snatched the soap out of his reach.

Fabian laughed. “Oh, jeez, you weren’t using that, were you?” He was very close, sodden hair rubbing up against Pascal’s side and hindquarters briefly before the rest of Fabian’s body cut past Pascal on his way to the row of showerheads, just close enough that it would have forced Pascal to step back to let him, if Pascal had been a reasonable sort of person.

“Feel free,” Pascal said in painstakingly cool tones. Fabian smiled innocently in response, likely confident that he had gotten his way, until Pascal swung his own body around to fully block his path, shedding suds and water onto Fabian in a messy spray, and stood there squeezing the moisture from his hair. Fabian would have to move past some other way, because he was not, under any circumstances, going to get Pascal to give up an inch of space.

Billows of steam swirled around them, spilling out past the corrugated metal wall that was their only modesty shield from the training going on in the arena outside. The other centaurs in the shower block were unobtrusively going about their cleaning routine, while every few seconds sneaking peeks across at the stallion pair, following their movements.

“Oh, wow, this is so awkward,” Fabian said, again in that perfectly pleasant voice, “you’re standing in my way.”

He spoke as if it were not obvious fact, as if it were completely unthinkable for anyone to even attempt to stand in his way and block his movements. As if it had been a mistake on Pascal’s part.

“Yeah, babe, so go around,” Pascal said, nudging himself just an inch closer, so that Fabian’s front was flush with the curve of Pascal’s flank. Fabian’s body was warm and firm, his wet fur sliding like the bristles of a very fine brush over Pascal’s side as he pushed, just a little, his veil of politeness starting to shift in favour of that sharp-eyed look of appraisal and evaluation.

Abruptly, Fabian reared. Pascal was forced to shift, ever so slightly, just to avoid a strike from those delicate front hooves. But Fabian was not kicking out, only ramping up, as if he intended to cover Pascal, or barge him out of the way. Pascal retaliated by mirroring him, rising onto his hind hooves briefly to force Fabian back before coming down heavily right where he had been before. No strikes yet, but as a familiar, tense excitement gripped Pascal, he was seized by the urge to hit out.

Pascal drew up closer, until they were side by side, glued together, the increasingly quick rise and fall of their sides bumping closer, and threw an arm around Fabian’s shoulders.

“Somebody stop them,” a voice said from the other end of the shower block. Pascal wanted nothing less than to stop, not when faced by a challenger who needed to be put in his place.

Fabian’s smile was not faltering, but it had taken on a vivid and excitable air, like the beginnings of a vicious leer or a threatened bite. He drew himself alongside Pascal again and stamped a front hoof, setting off a deep reverberation through the speckled tiles. Yeah, so what, he was big and strong. It wasn’t news and it still wasn’t enough to intimidate Pascal. But the scraping thud of a hoof on the floor was enough for their onlookers to drop the pretence of ignoring them. Showers cut off without anyone bothering to push for more water.

Another rear to escape this, and Fabian knocked against him, this time one foreleg up and folded against the slope of Pascal’s withers, and with another few hands of height Fabian could get his leg across Pascal’s back and force him down.

Pascal caught the briefest glimmer of domineering brown eyes and arched brows, and someone else called for them to stop, but it was far easier to obey the pounding of his adrenaline flash and charge against Fabian.

There was a harder collision than before, one of Pascal’s knees against Fabian’s front digging a track through the suds still on his body. To avoid injury they both had to disengage then, fall back to regroup and it would have been an excellent opportunity to surrender, if one of them had been of any mind to.

#from the ironwall au i was working on at the time. rip placeholder guy and welcome back pascal #writing tag

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magnifythesun · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

#asks #ianthony #my fanfic #i so hope you enjoyed this!! <3

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rowanisawriter · 2 months ago

Text

10 years, 10 stories

2024 is my 10th year on ao3. i’ve been writing for a lot longer than that and have had some years where i didn’t write anything at all. in a way ao3 is like a timeline for me or a diary, i can track my adult life with it. i wanted to pull like 10 stories that i’ve written over the course of these past 10 years that i think kinda define me

1. fantasy and fallacy (young justice/dc)

this isn’t my most popular young justice fic but it is my favorite. i wrote it a long long time ago and copied it into ao3 when i first got my account. looking back on it now it’s when i started developing what i think is now my true writing voice, focus on emotions and atmosphere rather than dialogue or plot strictly speaking

2. runner (assassin’s creed)

this is the first thing i wrote that felt experimental, free form before i understood what that really meant. i write like this all the time now and love it, but it felt really novel to me at the time

3. lucky one (avatar/legend of korra)

i’m still proud of this fic, i always remember the feeling i had writing it, how i was exploring something really emotional and strange. it’s about the relationship between siblings, jealousy, maybe even hatred. i have a complicated relationship with my own siblings and this story helped me untangle some of the feelings back when i was in the middle of it

4. heretic (bg3)

this story connects a lot of my favorite things about my writing—religious themes, selfish and power hungry characters, flowing and rhythmic prose, it feels like one of The stories for me tbh

5. self aware (mass effect)

i think this is my most important story because i wrote it after a 6 year writing break, when i had completely given up on ever writing anything again. i had just had my baby, i was fighting for my life with post partum depression, covid etc, it felt like the world was ending. so i wrote this and in some ways it fixed me, it fixed everything

6. butterflies (dragon age)

i’ve written so many dragon age fics but this one is important because it was my first multichap ever! i realize now i like these short multichaps where each chapter has its own theme (usually the chapter title) and now i do this all the time but butterflies was the first

7. real world (stardew valley)

not sure where this one came from lol i have a lot of feelings about being a parent, about the life i chose when i became a parent, how tiring it is, how unprepared i was even though i wanted it, all of that is distilled into this fic that i very much wrote for myself

8. starry-eyed (bg3)

i like to read poetry but haven’t written any before, so i try to infuse my writing with the rhythmic style i like to see in poetry. starry-eyed feels like it hit that rhythm i look for while still holding onto some semblance of plot lol i’m very proud of it

9. the fall (hades)

weird writing, allegory, symbolism, mythology, these are my favorite things to read and it just so happens the bible is full of that lol so i rewrote lucifer’s fall as a short thanzag fic and rereading it now feels so natural, i feel like i was born to write like this

10. glass slipper (classics)

i usually prewrite an entire story before posting it. for this one, i had about half down and a vague outline for the rest and it was an experiment kind of, to post and just go with the flow, and it worked, i didn’t abandon it, i felt connected to it the whole time while people read and liked it, and now i feel like i trust myself more as a writer tbh

#basically this is a diary entry lol but you can read it…#i wrote most of this back in like january lol #anyway i figure my end of year post will cover most of the stories i write from now to December so this post can just come out now i think #also if you’re reading this and have ever read or kudos or commented on any of my fics i am inexorably linked with you for the rest of time #for my pinned #my writing #my fics #milestone posts

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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months ago

Text

Molly McGhee’s “Jonathan Abernathy You Are Kind”

Jonathan Abernathy You Are Kind is Molly McGhee's debut novel: a dreamlike tale of a public-private partnership that hires the terminally endebted to invade the dreams of white-collar professionals and harvest the anxieties that prevent them from being fully productive members of the American corporate workforce:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/734829/jonathan-abernathy-you-are-kind-by-molly-mcghee/

Though this is McGhee's first novel, she's already well known in literary circles. Her career has included stints at McSweeney's, where she worked on my book Information Doesn't Want To Be Free:

https://store.mcsweeneys.net/products/information-doesn-t-want-to-be-free

And then at Tor Books, where she worked on my book Attack Surface:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531/attacksurface

But though McGhee is a shrewd and skilled editor, I think of her first and foremost as a writer, thanks to stunning essays like "America's Dead Souls," a 2021 Paris Review piece that described the experience of multigenerational debt in America in incandescent, pitiless prose:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

McGhee's piece struck at the heart of something profoundly wrong in American society – the dual nature of debt, which represents a source of freedom for the wealthy, and bondage for workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

When billionaire mass-murderers like the Sacklers amass tens of billions of liabilities stemming from their role in deliberately starting the opioid crisis, the courts step in to relieve them of their obligations, allowing them to keep their blood-money:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

And when Silicon Valley Bank collapses due to mismanagement by ultra-wealthy financiers, the public purse yawns open and billions flow out to ensure that the wealthiest investors in the country stay whole:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/18/2-billion-here-2-billion-there/#socialism-for-the-rich

When predatory payday lenders target working people and force them into bankruptcy with four-digit APRs, the government intervenes…to save the lenders and keep workers on the hook:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/29/planned-obsolescence/#academic-fraud

"Debtor vs creditor" is the oldest class division we have. The Bronze Age custom of jubilee – the periodic cancellation of all debts – wasn't some weird peccadillo. It was essential public policy, and without jubilee, the hereditary creditor class became the arbiter of all social priorities, destabilizing great nations and even empires by directing production to suit their parochial needs. Societies that didn't practice jubilee (or halted it) collapsed:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

Today's workers are debt burdened at scales and in ways that defy comprehension, the numbers are so brain-breakingly large. Students who take out modest loans and pay them off several times over remain indebted decades later, with outstanding balances that vastly outstrip the principle:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Workers who quit dead-end jobs are billed for five-figure "training repayment" bills that haunt them to the end of days:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Hospitals sue indigent patients at scale, siccing debt-collectors on people who can't pay – and were entitled to free care to begin with:

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/when-hospitals-sue-patients-part-2/

And debt collectors are drawn from the same social ranks as the debtors, barely trained and unsupervised, engaging in lawless, constant harassment of the debtor class:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/12/do-not-pay/#fair-debt-collection-practices-act

McGhee's "American Dead Souls" crystallized all of this vast injustice into a single, beautiful essay – and then McGhee crystallized things further by posting a public resignation letter enumerating the poor pay and working conditions in New York publishing, triggering mass, industry-wide resignations by similarly situated junior editorial staff:

https://electricliterature.com/molly-mcghee-jonathan-abernathy-you-are-kind-interview-debut-novel-book-debt/

Thus we arrive at McGhee's debut: a novel written by someone with a track record for gorgeous, brutally insightful prose; incisive analysis of the class war raging in the embers of capitalism's American Dream; and consequential labor organizing against the precarity and exploitation of young workers. As you might expect, it's fantastic.

Jonathan Abernathy is a 25 year old, debt haunted, desperately lonely man. An orphan with a mountain of college debt, Abernathy lives in a terrible basement apartment whose rent is just beyond his means. The only thing that propels him out of bed and into the world are his affirmations:

Jonathan Abernathy you are kind

You are well respected and valued by your community

People, including your family, love you

That these are all easily discerned lies is beside the point. Whatever gets you through the night.

We meet Jonathan as he is applying for a job that he was recruited for in a dream. As instructed in his dream, he presents himself at a shabby strip-mall office where an acerbic functionary behind scratched plexiglass takes his application and informs him that he is up for a gig run jointly by the US State Department and a consortium of large corporate employers. If he is accepted, all of his student debt repayments will be paused and he will no longer face wage garnishment. What's more, he'll be doing the job in his sleep, which means he'll be able to get a day job and pull a double income – what's not to like?

Jonathan's job is to enter the dreams of sleeping middle-management types in America's largest firms – but not just any dreams, their nightmares. Once he has entered their nightmare, Jonathan is charged with identifying the source of their anxiety and summoning a more senior operative who will suck up and whisk away that nagging spectre, thus rendering the worker a more productive component of their corporate structure.

But of course, there's more to it. As Jonathan works through his sleeping hours, he is deprived of his own dreams. Then there's the question of where those captive anxieties are ending up, and how they're being processed, and what new products can be made from refined nightmares. While Jonathan himself is pulling ever so slightly out of his economic quagmire, the people around him are still struggling.

McGhee braids together three strands: the palpable misery of being Jonathan (a proxy for all of us), the rising terror of the true nature of his employment, and beautifully turned absurdist touches that are laugh-aloud funny. This could be a mere novel of ennui and misery but it's not – it's a novel of hilarity and fear and misery, all mixed together in a glorious and terrible concoction that is not like anything else you've ever read.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/08/capitalist-surrealism/#productivity-hacks

#pluralistic #books #reviews #science fiction #molly mcghee #debt #graeber #capitalist realism #capitalist surrealism #dreams #gift guide

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