#future novel

[bruce-wilson]

[reparrishcomics]

( Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / RedBubble / Buy Me A Coffee )

[blue-eyed-author]

Dear fellow writers,

‘Said’ is beautiful. Please use it more. It isn’t anything to be feared of hated. It’s not boring or overused. It makes all the other dialogue tags more special when they’re used on occasion.

‘Said’ makes your writing less cluttered. It can be a simple way of reminding the reader who is talking without bombarding them with synonyms.

“Use it along with action to make it more interesting,” she said, picking up her pencil.

He smirked, and said, “Or with expressions and body language.”

“Or,” she said, “just as a quick reminder of who is talking.”

“And if you know who is talking, a dialogue isn’t always necessary.”

Of course you can use other dialogue tags, but please don’t exclude ‘said’. It’s heartbroken from being ignored.

‘Said’ is beautiful.

[visionsmusings]

This is a snippet from the first chapter on my WIP, what i hope to be a future book on shelves at your local library. A historical fiction about Aaron Burr, and how he found the width of the world.

The Pride Before the Fall

“Every day I see many people walk through the doors of these classrooms and as I watch them walk out, I feel proud knowing that we have helped to improve at least one person's life. I remember the day I saw you first walk through those doors. I will admit I was worried. I knew you were a bright young lad, and you surely are your father’s son.” With that last statement the reverend sat back down and clasped his hands together as if he were in prayer or deep thought.

“Of course you have proven yourself a smart, dedicated, and ambitious lad. I like to think that you have set an example for many in the time that you have been here with us.”

Aaron felt a sudden surge of pride, loving the idea that he had made an impression on the Reverend and others. He wanted to be seen.

“Aaron, I am curious. What is it you hope to get out of life?”

With that one question Aaron felt himself come tumbling down from the pedestal he thought he was being placed on. As the words permeated the air Aaron sat still taken aback by the question. The exact sentiment he was hoping to get guidance and counsel on was being thrown back at him.

Last night as Aaron laid his head down on his pillow he thought one last time about the future and what it could possibly have in store for him. He thought more on the idea of continuing his studies of theology. Surely it was not a mere coincidence that he should be studying to become a minister at the same time that everyone seems to be flocking towards the lords light.

No, this was not a mere coincidence but a sign, maybe even from his late father and mother. They wanted him to go through with this plan.

“Well sir, I have been thinking on working towards becoming a minister.”

The reverend gave a slight smile as if he had expected that answer.

“Aaron, tell me. Why do you want to stay in the ministry?”

Aaron again sat still, his mouth gaping open as if words were pouring out, yet all that was heard was silence. He thought for a minute, and as the silence grew it became obvious that the reverend had gotten his answer. He didn’t know, because his heart wasn’t truly there.

“There is no doubt that whatever you choose you will be great at. You have a great ethic, when I first turned you away and told you that you weren’t yet ready you pushed yourself harder than any young lad I have seen to date. I know that whatever you choose you will give your all to. However, you need to choose what will make you happy. I have noticed that you haven’t yet applied anywhere to further your education. I know that money is not a problem, so I sense it is a problem of head and heart?” The reverend asked, yet he posed the question as if he was telling this to Aaron, not really asking for confirmation.

“The ministry is a wonderful choice,” he continued as he leaned back in his chair, “It does in fact it seems to be a popular choice at the moment.”

“Yes sir, well there is a revival upon us. Many have strengthened their love in our great lord. With that many joining the flocks there is a need for more shepherds!”

With a chuckle the reverend looked back to Aaron. “No, we don’t need many more shepherds. This wave will not last, it is merely a new season upon us,” His joyful and playful tone soon turned to a sudden seriousness, “There is much unrest in the streets towards our King. Everyone needs hope, and this is where they all happen to be finding it in this moment. Some will stay but many, once they get their fill of peace will simply calm down and return to nothing more than their Sunday prayers. When that happens churches will find their pews suddenly a bit emptier and then many will lose confidence in their ability to preach. We will have many taverns filled with those newly wandering souls. “

“I wouldn’t be just another one of those wondering souls. It is what my father would want me to do.” Aaron said with a sudden fight in him, “You said yourself that I am my father’s son!”

“Yes, you both have a quality of stubbornness unrivaled by many. In that regard there is no question of which tree you fall from.”

Aaron sat confused. Here he was trying to convince himself that he had made up his mind. Last night he thought he was done with this anxiety. He told himself that the stage before pews is where he would get the recognition he knew he deserved. He woke up thinking that today the reverend would solidify his ideas and tell him that he was in fact on the right course, set for long lasting success and praise from all.

Instead the reverend sat in front of Aaron telling him the exact opposite. So, it would seem Aaron was back at square one.

He should have went with Matthias last night.

“If I may be honest...” Aaron started, suddenly quiet. He felt like a small child who just got caught in a fanciful lie.

“I would expect nothing less than complete honesty from you Aaron. “

“I don’t know what I want. All I know is that I want to make people proud.” Aaron was looking at the floor unable to meet the eyes of the great man before him.

“Aaron, you need to make yourself proud. If you don’t do that, no one else will ever give you the satisfaction you are looking elsewhere for. You need to look within.”

Aaron slowly lifted his head and looked at the reverend who was now looking at him with the soft eyes of a caring father.

“It won’t be easy. You must also cast away the idea that you can’t make mistakes. We are human and therefore we make mistakes every day. Be softer with yourself. I will pray to god for your guidance.”

As those last words left him he stood up, and walked towards the door, stopping only to pat Aaron on the shoulder as a sign of endearment. He opened the door and Aaron knew this talk was over. He stood and walked to the Reverend and after shaking his hand Aaron walked out into the bright sun with nothing more than a mind filled with many jumbled thoughts.

[rhiangalaxy]

Best girl :3c

[bwuniko]

ೀ ⋆𓂃  Yuno Gasai & Kotonoha Katsura

[1000sunnygo]

I did write the summary on the wiki lol - happy to see that people use it! On a separate topic, and if you're interested, I remembered another bonus story released for Jump Victory Carnival 2021 about Luffy and Law bug hunting for beetles (imgur /a/Txt6ayl). It hasn't been included in any of the volumes (like the rest of the JVC stories)

LMAOAOA

the image quality got significantly worse after lettering, here's the raw link (credits: @walrsu)

THIS NERD NAMED 4 BEETLES IN 2 PAGES (the 'welcome ⬆️' signboard HAHA)

+ Luffy's face in this panel 😭 I love him being a little shit with Law

This made my day, thank you again!

[hezzabeth]

There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.

In a field where the paper daisies grow,

Underneath the sun's harsh glow,

I wander through, light and free.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The smoke coils in the sky far above,

But your petals still dance around me.

Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.

Everything lost will grow again.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The stars begin to rise,

My hands scooping your seeds.

Soon you will take flight

Towards the soft moonlight.

There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.

Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.

“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.

"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.

"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.

"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.

"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.

The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.

"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.

Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.

"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.

"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.

"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.

Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.

One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.

"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.

"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.

Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.

"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.

"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.

It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.

"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.

"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.

"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.

"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.

"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.

"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.

"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.

"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.

"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.

Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.

"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.

"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.

"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.

"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.

"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.

Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.

Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.

"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.

"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.

"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.

"You were sleeping with him."

"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.

"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.

"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.

"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.

"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.

"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.

"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.

"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.

Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.

"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.

"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.

"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.

"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.

"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.

"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.

"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.

The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.

"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.

Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.

"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.

Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.

"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.

"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.

"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.

"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.

"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.

Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.

"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.

"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.

"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.

Revati stared at him and shook her head.

"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.

"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.

"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.

"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.

"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.

"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.

"No," Revati said firmly.

"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.

"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.

"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.

"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.

[tetheredbysin]

haasbands continuing the tradition of 'I need to mention my husband in every single interview'

they make me weep

[itschoahyuna]

(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦)⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ🌈

[ninjagood4]

Lightning ⚡️

[ered]

Hey you

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

You know how being incredibly spiteful over Apollo's stereotypical interpretations in modern media compelled me to write my own series on him? Based on the actual myths?

After watching the new Blood of Zeus season (It was okay. Apollo was obvs the highlight lol), I am now nearly as spiteful over Demeter's stereotypical interpretations in modern media.

She's always the overbearing mother who either doesn't want Persephone to get married, or she does want Persephone to get married... (it's almost like media doesn't know which to stick with!)

I was already planning to do this. But the spite has made that decision rock-solid.

In my series, Demeter is gonna be the Best Mom. You will love her. She will be so good with Persephone and her friends.

She's gonna be that mom who teases her daughter over her one (1) male friend (Apollo) and go "so should I start planning the wedding?"

And Persephone's like "OMG MOOOOOM DON'T EMBARESS ME!!!!"

Demeter's gonna be braiding Apollo's hair with sunflowers. Watch me.

and since Apollo & Persephone are BFFs, y'all gonna see how her kidnapping affected Demeter. In full.

A MOTHER IS NOT OVERBEARING WHEN SHE'S PANICKING OVER HER DAUGHTER BEING KIDNAPPED FIGHT ME

(also gonna have some tense Apollo & Hades moments because of this hehe)

I HAVE PLANS AND MODERN MEDIA IS NOT READY FOR IT

[knickynoo]

You know, the whole Rolls Royce accident thing really gets sadder the more you think about it. Marty gets home from this incredible, terrifying trip to 1955, wakes up with this “improved” life, and finds the truck of his dreams in the garage. He takes it out for a spin with Jennifer, gets goaded into a drag race, and crashes. Not only does he get sued, but he breaks his hand—an injury that leads him to give up on his biggest dream of being a musician. The event singlehandedly sends Marty’s life on a downward spiral, and he never can recover his confidence or motivation for much of anything.

In the novelization for part II, Lorraine notes that if the accident had never happened, Marty, “—wouldn’t have just given up on life.”

I mean. It’s awful. Marty spends an entire week desperately scrambling to save his parents’ relationship, the existence of himself and his siblings, and Doc’s life only to get home and almost immediately go through a life-altering event that destroys his spirit. He fixes the lives of those around him and ruins his own.

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

(ln8 spoilers) jinshi thinking except for my godly looks i am just average and then his smartass goes and kills around five birds with just one brand. someone whose status is so high that even his name can't be said by anyone except the emperor jinshi branded himself with the crest of the empress vowing loyalty to her assuring her he doesn't wants to take the place of her son. one-upping his "bro" with this who refuses to let him leave the line of succession wouldn't let him become a commoner doesn't wants to let him become a servant to the royal family. only slaves get branded and if this ever got out there will be chaos in the court. gyokuyou tho considers jinshi like a brother and he did swear loyalty to her but if she ever tried to cross his family her clan's brand on his body would be enough to prove her as an adultress which would be bad for her and her clan.

and jinshi did this in front of these two people and maomao so now she is the only one who can see him naked and the emperor cannot order him to marry anyone which was something that was definitely gonna happen had he not done what he did. as a bonus he gets to spend more time with maomao after a long time and he did all this while saying the exact words: empress gyokuyou, your enemy i shall never be in front of maomao reassuring her because she once muttered i don't want to be an enemy to empress gyokuyou and he had heard her but before he could tell her that he had no intention of doing that either he couldn't because of the lishu incident. one of the major reasons maomao hadn't accepted her own feelings for jinshi one of the obstacles he promised to remove for her. even though he doesn't even know that maomao's concerns about her becoming gyokuyou's enemy had to do with his birth secret his true status. that no matter what he is the rightful successor. something jinshi himself isn't even aware of and yet without knowing that he did this to deal with it all in a single way most preferable to him: masochism