#just needed a little denouement

[psychotrenny]

While I don't think much of the overall USamerican population cares about the genocide in Gaza, the scale of the recent protests show that it's a pretty important issue for the more progressive and politically active segment*. A segment which assumes a disproportionate electoral importance in a nation like the USA with non-compulsory voting and generally low voter turnouts. Like your "average" Yank might not give a shit about Palestine, but said average Yank wasn't gonna vote anyway. And the people who actively support the Genocide are mostly gonna vote for Trump no matter what; Harris's stance on Gaza did a pretty good job of driving off people who might have voted for her without attracting new support.

It's not as though Trump is very popular; he just managed to maintain some sizeable base of supporters by doing the bare minimum job of a politician and "promising them things they want". Like Trump managed to win this election with fewer total votes than he had in his 2020 loss; you could say that he's "more popular" than Harris but that's really not a high bar. The electorate less voted for Trump and more didn't vote for Harris because why the hell would they? She had nothing worthwhile to offer so Trump more or less won by default. While Gaza wasn't necessarily decisive in this, it certainly fucking hurt especially among the demographics (i.e. Ethnic Minorities, Young People) that Harris was trying hardest to reach. At the very least, a more popular Gaza policy could have made her loss a lot less humiliating.

But the US DP doesn't seem that interested in victory anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter. They get paid for putting on a show, creating a nice distracting spectacle; actually winning seems secondary at best. I doubt they'll learn any lessons beyond "We need to get more Racist". And considering the recent surge in posts to the effect of "I can't wait for White Supremacists to brutalise you as punishment for not Voting Blue", it's a lesson their online supporters are already putting into practice with enthusiasm

*I must emphasise that I'm defining this "segment" very broadly; It's not as though you need an especially principled or coherent ideology to conclude "Explicit Genocide is bad and we should at least dissociate ourselves from it"

[osamucide]

NSFW—MDNI

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who loves horror movies.

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who doesn’t get a lot of time away from work—but when he does, of course he wants to be with you. there’s so little to this bleak existence that interests him outside of work. and of course, when you both settle in for your monthly movie night and it’s his turn to pick, he’s going to choose some terrible, fucked up, stomach-turning film.

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who, with regard to your tolerance for scary movies, still likes to push your limits with them. he’s found that there’s hardly anything he can’t endure with little more than a furrowed brow, and it makes him feel so needed and loved when you cling onto him, clutch his hand, or bury your face into him after a particularly startling jump scare.

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who gets unreasonably turned on during anything gory, anything shocking, anything poetic or allegorical involving flesh and blood and guts. he loves it if you yelp and squirm and maybe unintentionally grind against his hard-on when you’re wrapped around him and trying to hide from the terror.

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who loves it even more if you’re just as into it as he is—if you ghost your fingers along his waist as one half of the stupid couple trying to bang in the haunted house during the exposition ends up disemboweled, disfigured, decapitated, or otherwise mutilated. he’ll fight off his wicked grin and tease you back—bite you softly, fondle your chest, finger you too gently—until it gets really good.

thinking about boyfriend!Akutagawa who has you on your back or on your knees or in his lap by the denouement; of course he wants to know what happens (whether you do or not is up to you—bury your face in his shoulder or gag on his cock to distract yourself if you have to) but he’s so close to cumming that it’s difficult to stay focused on anything other than ruining you, and even if you want to know too and he’s fucking you too good for you to pay attention either, well, how is it his fault that watching messed up movies with his pretty partner gets him atrociously horny? ⊹

[utilitycaster]

finally watched cooldown and two thoughts:

Smart of Matt to be like "no, we will have a satisfying denouement for other major figures involved" after the collective C2 ending freakouts; like, it feels like we are pretty obviously deep in the endgame but yeah I expect there will be check-ins after the last battle with Vox Machina, the Mighty Nein, and the Crown Keepers, plus probably the Calloways; obviously Liliana will be present. Might need two post BBEG combat episodes instead of the traditional one!

Other people have noted this but yeah it's actually...fucking weird how Liam is the only person who seems to in real life accept that Vax is permanently gone and you can't like, cheat this. And it's frustrating because he is no less dead than Zuala or Will or Molly or FCG. Like, sending the ravens and popping back in does mean it's harder for Keyleth to get over it, but like. idk maybe stop trying to go on random dates and just spend time with people who aren't technically under your (benevolent) rule or also people who never really accepted Vax's death (ie, the rest of Vox Machina). I mean I enjoyed the scene with Verin, and I think there's an intriguing case to be made there anyway (high expectations in childhood, leadership at a very young age, grew up without one of their parents) but just generally...she will never forget Vax, it will always be a scar, but she can move forward if she accepts his choice even if she disagrees with it. At this point...if she can't move on, that is because she won't. And a little bit because seven years later the cast won't.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! Love your blog btw!

How long should a novel be? I'm not sure if I should split my story into more than one book or just one that's pretty lengthy

Should Story Be Split Into Two Books?

There is not a "one size fits all" number for book length. Book length depends on the target audience, genre, and other factors. Even within those factors there can be a range. Here are some common ranges for different factors:

Middle Grade novels - 25,000 - 40,000 words Young Adult novels - 45,000 - 80,000 words New Adult: 60,000 - 85,000 words Adult 65,000 - 110,000

Literary novels - 80,000 to 110,000 words Romance novels - 50,000 to 90,000 words Fantasy novels - 70,000 to 150,000 words Sci-Fi novels - 70,000 to 150,000 words Mystery novels - 70,000 to 90,000 words

So, if you've written a 225,000 word fantasy novel, you may want to look into dividing that into two books.

However, your story and its genre play a role, too. While it's common to split bigger sci-fi and fantasy stories into multiple books, you generally wouldn't split a mystery story or contemporary romance story into two or more books. You could write multiple connected stories featuring your mystery or romance protagonist, but each book would typically tell it's own complete story. For example, Sherlock Holmes books follow the same protagonist and main characters through the solving of different mysteries. There are elements that carry over from one story to the next, but the series isn't one big story chopped into smaller pieces.

As for the story itself, take a look at the events of the story. Can you see a possible beginning, middle, and end for each potential story? In other words, can you look at the first say half or third of your story and see a climax and denouement that's followed by a new inciting incident? This would be a clue that you could break this story down into multiple stories. Even if you don't see those things in your story already, you can spend some time considering whether or not you can build them in naturally.

And, one last thing to consider is how far over the top end of the range your story is. For example, if your story fits the other criteria and is about twice the length of the middle or end range for your target audience/genre, that might be a good indicator that this story needs to be split. However, let's say you're only 30k over the top end of the range. This is a situation where you can probably cut down 10-15k through editing and polishing, and then just let it be a little over the top end of the range. It's not that books can never be over the top end of the range, it's just that they typically are.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[idontknowmyownmind]

Soukoku Fanfics Reccomendation

PREVIOUS

COMPLETED

[Series] Phantoms by Mxxnlit

[Series] In All Its Branches by writingfromtheshadows

illuminated happiness by setosdarkness

You Must Be This Tall To Ride by Lazchan

A Night To Remember by NoraNoooooo

The broken beauties. by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey)

Hair Tie by Lichtstrahl

Everything Comes Back To You by TheGreatCatsby

all my own by halfbloom (diphylleias)

castles out of couches by halfbloom (diphylleias)

The scent of flowers is sweet, but the scent of you is sweeter by LunaSolstice

Four masterplans to win Chuuya’s heart by holdinglucy

25 little domesticities by holdinglucy

What's Your Name? by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Everything or Nothing by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Drunken Storytelling in Yokohama! by StormDew2

The Little Things by Badwolf36

what Chuuya would have said by orphan_account

Tales from Yokohama by AnonLearnsToWrite

O Children (give my gun away when it's loaded) by iskendaris

Always Yours by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Touch by borntoshine

And His Lips Were Chanel Red by the_most_happy

these days, you're fine by wondernoise

I found love (where it wasn't supposed to be) by giorassol

My Bisexual Ass Likes You so Why Not, lol by Vitya_Viktorie

Call of the Depth by Shadow_Arashi

set alight, we're afire love by kiroiimye

your honeyed words from a silver tongue (or am i the only one worthy of your honesty?) by scripted_suicide

His Lover by loukass

skip and kiss by triptychism

sunset by dynashou

Lycanthropic Blues by Bemused_Writer

A monochrome painting by Fa113nM00n

Leia by likeshining

Saudade by hybridempress

Back on Your Feet by hybridempress

keep your windows open by Maristella

My Beloved Doll by orphan_account

Flirting With Disaster by Leonawriter

His Prized Experiment by fauxtales

Just Look by Anonymous

TearDrop by alchemy_omi

kataware doki by TheGreatCatsby

Wings of Corruption by Katical

When will you learn that your actions have consequences? by pinkjester

Even The Corrupted Can Love by Taintedazure

Bitter/Sweet by Badwolf36

In My Arms, You're Safe by EcchiSenpai

Five Times They Didn't Need Words and One Time They Did by StrangerThings7

Denouement by sunnyfleur

Promise Me by NightSama

until the pair of us are strangers (let's call it convenience) by jazzieshoes

Throwbacks and other things you don’t want to remember by tia_dreamer

Do No Harm by TheGreatCatsby

Hell Is Empty by Leonawriter

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Break It To Me Slowly by Leonawriter

It Was Snow That Made My Fingertips Cold by Leonawriter

And The Answer Is Yes by Leonawriter

Only Human by TheGreatCatsby

Touch Starved by Badwolf36

when you wish upon a star by ackerlynx

Turn Back the Clock by weepingwillows

carpe diem by diamondsinthesky (stella_caerulea)

caught in between by universalblips

Puppy Love by writingfromtheshadows

Killer Couple by outromri

The Ship Is Sailing by orphan_account

A Public Service Announcement by AnonLearnsToWrite

Dating comes with at least a 70% chance of grievous bodily harm by AnonLearnsToWrite

fire and calamity by Anonymous

Footsteps on the Ceiling by Insomnia_Productions

Dazai’s 10 Steps Guide to a Successful Marriage by Yellow_Canna

Switched by Yellow_Canna

Beneath the Dress (♂) by Yellow_Canna

ON-GOING

[Series] All hail our lord and savior Chuuya Nakahara by BlowingYourMind

[Series] Tracing Through Violets and Echoes by Kuranoa

[Series] Sheep verse by Shinkirou

[Series] Loveless AU by Shinkirou

[x Black Butler] One Hell of A Partner by Lawli_Pawp

[x The Avengers] The Avengers, a detective and a mobster by sednaxover12

Once Upon A Time by BluePastelLucas (VeniVediPerivi)

I'll Set Myself on Fire (Just to Keep You Warm) by Anonymous

Just Another Day in Yokohama City by ayyartee

ataraxis by lurochu

He Works Hard for the Money by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Sweetest Devotion by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Chasing Fireflies [HIATUS] by borntoshine

don't forget where you belong by Maristella

i will follow you into the dark by Maristella

darling, take me home by kiroiimye

long live by kiroiimye

The (In)humanity of Nakahara by earlofgreytea

[x MHA] Blue Bamboo: Japanese Tales of Fantasy by RiKuEersa

Unintentionally Erased by Chuuuuuuuuya

Honeybee by orphan_account

Stop All the Clocks by chuuyapedia, osamuchuu

Mama Chuuya by uzai_sagi

House of Tarot by uzai_sagi

[phneltwrites]

On Smut Writing

hey if you're a young royals writer and you struggle to write smut but you want to, I'm happy to chat. We can talk through your idea and discuss strategies. (ofc if you never want to then that's fine too!)

Otherwise also big recommend on this very old essay (like so old it both uses and defines the word slash): here

Also, here is a brief summary of my personal method. These tips also work for: action scenes, dance scenes, and dream sequences

figure out my zing (what is zing? read the essay)

put that at the centre of a mindmap

get mindmapping, build out the branches until I feel like I have a good sense of the major components of what makes that particular zing work

Give the characters a goal or need that must be met by the scene

unlearn shame and embrace joy. If time does not permit to unlearn shame and embrace joy, you can substitute by covering your screen while you write or playing music really loudly

write. Whenever the fic gets stuck, go back to the mindmap and pick a new branch. Put your zing at the centre of every paragraph

for tips on the writing, also refer to essay above

General smut writing tips:

focus on the sensation, not the choreography

give the scene structure. build towards something and then have a denouement

characters gotta want something at the beginning of the scene that is not an orgasm. At the end of the scene they should have it or be on the path to it

Drive plot through action. Remove dialogue and discussion and show those elements through touch

pick your terminology set and don't be afraid of repeating those words

Example below with nsfw text (though please don't be reading this at work I'm not responsible for that)

ok here's an example of how I put that into action for my fic 'I didn't just come here to dance' wherein Simon wears a plug to the club

my zing is sex toys worn under clothing

my mindmap

sorry this is terrible to read my handwriting is and has always been awful.

But here there's a few things that are on the mindmap. I've got public, sensation, discovery, denial, comeplay, and play, with their little branches off of them. Some of this is written as I go, some of it is omitted and included in the writing depending. It's a guideline

4. ok gonna be real this scene has less of a clear goal cause it's written to prompt, but here Simon has a goal of driving Wille out of his mind and Wille has the goal of showing Simon how much his mind was blown. So that's trust and partnership and communication.

But fr. ex in a longer fic I wrote, I put in a scene scene to show that Simon is feeling disconnected and frustrated and trying to distract himself from his uncomfortable feelings (not about Wille) through sex. So Simon has a goal and Wilhelm has a goal of taking care of Simon and they both can't get exactly what they want.

5. we keep working on this one! Sometimes I stare out the window at the mountains while I'm writing a smut scene so I don't see what my fingers are doing

6. but now I've got: a scene about trust and communication where there's a sex toy. Denial is a key component so they're in a situation where they can't just leave. But they're also going to be distracted so it needs to be a situation where they aren't focused on something else. So now they're at the club with a promise to a friend to stick it out. Voila! A fic.

[beekeeperspicnic]

I actually changed the denouement of this comic as I was doodling it.

Originally, I had all of the lovely comments people have left saying that my work has brightened their day and that they enjoy it counteracting the negative self-talk.

And it does. I think my creative work is a kind of communication, and it brings me joy to know it's succeeding in communicating with people.

But will that ever satisfy me, if I rely on it as a source of happiness? If I please 10 people, I'll want to please 50. If I please 50, I'll want to please 100, 1000, 10000, 100000. How many people need to like my work to justify its existence? Worse - how many people need to like my work to justify MY existence?

I think it's actually ok just to BE and to DO. To dip your hand in ochre and make a handprint in a cave wall because you're a human being, and you want to see how it feels, and you want a way to externalize your complicated inner world.

Our capitalist society will tell you that you must use your resources, you must not squander gifts or opportunities, that you must rise, that you must produce, produce, produce.

But I made a little house in my computer and I found happiness in it.

If I say that's enough, it's enough.

[wehangout]

Shameless DVD Commentary

The wonderful @i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for a DVD commentary on Suncatcher! This was the first time I'd read it since finishing, so that was a lot of fun, too! This whole thing got away on me, so hit that read more if you want to read more 💜 as usual, thanks to @callivich for starting this awesome idea!

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

Suncatcher!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

Okay, I started posting this in March of 2022, which leads me to believe I started writing it in 2021 (I'm on a borrowed laptop, so can't check). It took some time to finish because ~real life~ and word count hits 58,592.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

Oooh, okay. This post. If you don't want to click, it's a text post saying "au where thief!cas tries to ride dean's dick and keep track of when his flashdrive is done stealing the contents of dean's computer at the same time". Obviously, that kind of scene never happened in Suncatcher, but vibes, you know?

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mostly Mickey because almost everything I write is Mickey pov. But I did experiment with this by writing those 3rd person Ian snippets, and literally the only reason for it is so the reader could be there for that moment of realisation when Ian figures it all out.

What was your favourite scene to write?

I don't know that I have one, but I really enjoyed the scene where Mickey asks Ian to come to Mexico. Getting to write them being soft, even just for a minute, was nice. And literally any of their flirty banter was fun to write lol.

How did you come up with the title?

I feel like this doesn't need an explanation, lol. I will say, though, I had three other titles in mind. I had "Denouement", "Encontrar", and "Atrapasol". Encontrar means "to find" in Spanish (because I knew it would end with them in Mexico), while "Atrapasol" means "suncatcher". At least, according to Google translate lmao.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I did a reread in order to write this commentary, so, please, have a list of moments, foreshadowing, and references.

* Mickey's nautical-themed sleeve! “Sailing? Nah, man. I just really like pirates.” Get it? Because he's a thief? And pirates steal shit? Literally no one caught onto that haha * “Uh … growing up the way I did, I’m probably better at the B&E itself rather than tryin’ to solve it.” -- Mickey literally says this in the first chapter lmao * His mind doesn’t go over every detail of the North Side burglaries and he doesn’t obsess over the thief committing them. No thief. Just a bartender. Just Mickey. -- Um, hello? * “Never gonna give that up, are we?” “Never gonna live it down.” “Those aren’t the lyrics.” “Okay, lyric police.” -- 27 Dresses, thank you * Ahh, Mickey's blowjob tattoo. The amount of erotic tattoo designs I looked at for this, but nothing was right. Until Mitch 💜 * He snorts. “Clearly you don’t know many writers.” “I don’t. Should I?” “No. They’re the worst.” -- I'm dying 😂 * Well, this really has turned into a commentary, huh? Apologies. * "A little dry, to be honest." Chapter 3 and 9. Did anyone catch that?

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

The last two chapters. Life completely turned upside-down on me and I couldn't write a thing. Zero motivation, infinity depression. Then, at the beginning of this year ... I dunno. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was writing again and I haven't stopped yet.

Favourite line in the story?

“Catch me if you can, motherfucker.”

“Two, I give you the keys to the cuffs and leave. But first I suck your dick until you come down my throat.”

“I’ll give you what you want, Red, you just have to decide what you want more; the thief, or his mouth?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he whispers. “You did everything, Ian.”

“Interesting,” he says. “I was already half in love with you by then.” 😭

“I’m gonna fuck you now. You know that, right?” You groan and drop your head. “You might just break my fucking heart if you don’t, Gallagher.”

“So long as that lover is you, Gallagher.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

Yeah, but only chapters 9 and 10. Initially I was going to write Ian having a depressive episode and Mickey talking to him about everything while he was down, but I hated the idea. I didn't want it to seem like Mickey/the thief was the cause of his episode, and I also didn't want to use it as a tool. The idea changed into a possible attack on Ian, but that still wasn't working for me. So, instead, you got the scene with Mickey handcuffed and Ian asking questions. I switched the vulnerability around and made it way more fun.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

Nah. A little crime with my romance is my go-to lol

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

Finishing it. Kidding. Kinda. Not really.

Actually, though, the dialogue and banter is pretty good. It reads very natural, so I'm proud of that.

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

Only what I mentioned above. I wrote the attack on Ian, Mickey sitting with him in hospital ... it wasn't good.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

Oh, the moment where Ian finds the camera and leaves it. He'd just heard Mickey tell him that he stopped watching before things got interesting, and that's what he's thinking about as he puts the camera back down with a smirk. About Mickey not stopping just as things get interesting. I had thought about writing it, too. A scene where Mickey doesn't close the laptop, working consent into it and Ian putting on a fucking show

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I don't think so. I'm pretty happy with most of it.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Kinda did. Wouldn't be opposed to doing more. All the cream pie banter I'm rereading is def giving me inspo for if I write more of them oops

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

I think I mentioned this in the commentary for Thicker Than Forget, but Jim Morrison/The Doors lyrics. I don't know, man, it just works for me haha.

Also the name thing - Gallagher/Ian/baby and Mickey/Mick.

There's also the line "It’s gone from bartender and customer having a bit of fun flirting and teasing, to silk sheets and Nine Inch Nails pounding through the speakers." - The NIN might be a reference to Help Me (Tear Down My Reasons) 😏 iykyk

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Excited. Probably more excited to post ch2, though, just for the reaction to Mickey being the thief haha

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

@whaticameherefor always 💜

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

@i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for the scene where Ian asks Mickey on a date which I've pasted below.

A couple of notes on it:

The Riverwalk Cocktail Festival is a real thing in Chicago

I put a stupid amount of research into finding them the perfect date and this just fits.

Reading it back, I love that the Mickey doesn't think of the thief or anything to do with that shit once during this conversation. It's just two guys who like each other, and one's asking the other out on a date. It's just happy.

I think Mickey was so surprised that Ian was asking him out that everything he said and felt and thought was genuine. He even has a moment of "Fucking finally" that he doesn't mean to say, but 100% means.

I'm sad they never did it.

“Just my gut.” He pauses. Smiles. “Speaking of … in the interest of trusting my gut with my personal life as well as my professional life, have you heard of the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival next month?” Your heart skips a beat. Yeah, you’re heard of the fucking festival, and you can’t believe Ian’s doing this. “I’ve been a few times,” you tell him. “Sandy and I go under the pretence of work, and then get shit-faced.” “Okay, so do you maybe wanna go again?” He fingers go back to the coaster, but again he keeps eye contact. “But, you know, with me instead of Sandy.” There’s nothing romantic about the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival unless you go to the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival with romantic intentions. If you go with a date then it’s stupidly fucking romantic and you and Sandy used to talk shit about those assholes every chance you got, but … But the idea of being one of those couples, of going with Ian and having it be romantic … it makes you sick to your stomach how much you like the idea. “You askin’ me on a date, Gallagher?” He stares at you, eyes wide and honest. “Yeah.” “Fuckin’ finally.” You don’t mean to say it. You think it and you mean it, but you don’t mean to say it. Ian’s smile, though, makes the slip worth it. “So that’s a yes?” “Yeah.” “Good.” He smiles. Fucking beams. “Because I’ve already bought tickets, so I would’ve been kinda fucked if you’d said no.” “You already bought tickets?” “Some might call it presumptuous; I call it optimistic.” You shake your head. “Ian, man, those tickets are expensive as fuck –” “Doesn’t matter.” “Matters. At least let me pay you back for mine.” You already know he won’t let you pay for both of them. “Not a chance. This is me trusting my gut, asking you out, and feeling really good about it.” A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” He smiles right back. “You wanna pull me out of that good feeling, the one I get when you agree to go on a date with me, by bringing up my money woes? Or do you wanna talk about our date and agree upon matching outfits?” “You better be fucking joking.”

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

So, as mentioned above there was a good chunk of time where nothing was updated. If you were someone who left a kudos or a comment or messaged me on here during that time, or even continued reading when I finally updated, please know it meant a lot.

[birdkeeperklink]

All right, Cash on Demand! Time for my own little post about it and why I love it so much. This is not going to be spoiler-free, so don't look under the cut if you don't want spoilers.

First off, this is, for 99% of the runtime, just one of the most solidly written films I've ever seen in my life. Like they should use this movie to teach people how to make films again, because the writing is that tight - up until the last five minutes or so, but I'll get to that.

Our introduction to the characters is perfect - we see how the bank staff interacts with each other when their boss isn't around, how they take an interest in each other, what kind of people they are. It's a brief glimpse, but enough, and so important because it needs to be established before the plot kicks in so we believe it later when they step up for Fordyce despite how he's treated them - and speaking of which, it's also essential because it lays the groundwork for Fordyce before he ever arrives.

Sanderson adjusts the clock by a minute - one of the things Fordyce checks after he arrives. The others are afraid they might be late or Fordyce might be early - they call him "his lordship," in a joking way, but still, it tells us a lot about his management.

Since the interactions of the employees are so essential later, Harville refusing to throw Pearson under the bus about the ten-pound (already corrected) "error" in the books and having to be cornered until he finally says, "you already know" - he still doesn't outright say Pearson signed off on it!!! - is absolutely a necessary and perfect scene that foreshadows the employees' response later in the movie, when Fordyce begs their help in covering for him with the police. We already know they will, because the movie established that's the kind of people they are, and so we get no verbal "yes" from Pearson, but we cut to them doing it. It's beautiful writing, the way it should be done, taking care with the secondary characters as much as the primary ones.

(Another scene that backs this is during the plot, when Pearson is upset about being caught out, so Sanderson puts in the call to check on the supposed insurance man for him - having Pearson's back, because that's what the people of this bank do, so that behavior is reinforced after being set up and then ultimately put into play for the climax.)

And then, of course, the heist and the two main characters - this is as much a character study as a bank heist movie, and it does both brilliantly. The heist is as airtight as part of a script as it is in-universe - we believe Hepburn's plan because the script sells how well it's been schemed.

So it's just a beautiful script for 99% of it, and that's a big part of why I love the movie.

Where it falls down is the last five minutes or so, when Fordyce is saved by Hepburn... inexplicably having tricked him with a tape recorder faking his wife and child's voices, and an unknown accomplice playing that over the phone 😐 I'm not the first or the last person to point that out, so I won't belabor the point, but it really does seem like the script is headed for tragedy, with a broken Fordyce carted off to jail right along with his tormenter - when it's like the movie suddenly remembered it wanted to be a Christmas movie and couldn't end so sadly, so whoops, uh, here, tape recorder 🤷😂

We wouldn't have gotten Fordyce sobbing in despair, but honestly it would've been better if when his wife answered the phone, she confirmed there had been men there, but they left and she was just about to pack up their kid and go to the police, or if she hadn't answered the phone at all and the police learned from their car radio that she was at the police station giving a statement already. That would have been a little less bizarre.

And my only other complaint is the abrupt ending, but that was pretty standard for these types of movies, I feel like. The action winds up, resolves, and end credits appear over what might have been the denouement! 😂 So I can't hold it against this movie in particular.

Anyway, that covers how well it's written (and probably directed and edited, but I don't know enough about those processes to say, and don't really want to know). Now the performances, as I'm sure you knew was coming 😂

Because a good script is useless in the wrong hands, and these were definitely far from the wrong hands! The secondary characters all feel like real coworkers, with no strained performances or over- or under-acting. The two stars are obviously brilliant.

I don't think enough gets said about Andre Morell - even in his heyday reviewers called him "reliable" - and he was! He always delivered! And I think that gets him a little overlooked, and if he should be considered in any film, it's this one. Peter Cushing's performance was brilliant, but it wouldn't have been as striking without a strong counterpart to play off of - we believe his distress partly because he's that good an actor, but also partly because Andre Morell is, too, and we also feel distressed.

The slap scene, for instance - Fordyce has grown comfortable enough, for the moment, to attempt lying to Hepburn, and we the audience are silently pleased, until the oily Hepburn quietly orders him to take off his glasses, and abruptly he turns cold, violent, and sinister. He is downright terrifying in how he flips a switch so casually - and in how he switches it right back again after he's done making it plain to Fordyce that he won't tolerate being lied to, and he knows very well the facts of this bank. It's chilling and utterly believable, and that moment raises the stakes considerably because Morell sells it so well.

Just as he is completely charming and personable while still giving the sense that something is 'off' from the moment he arrives. Having seen Morell in Hound of the Baskervilles, where he was genuinely likable, the difference in how he played this was stark to me, and I love his subtleties and the way he played this role.

Even the inexplicable "I had a tape recorder" ending - it still isn't great in a plot sense, but Hepburn suddenly piping up after being content to pretend Fordyce was a willing accomplice and enjoying his suffering? Then abruptly seeming to change his mind and confessing? Morell sold that part of it, too, as you can see the moment where he clicks over - he decides he's had his fun and shows a little mercy, since he enjoyed breaking Fordyce down but isn't a wholly evil person. It's a U-turn on paper, but sold by the acting.

And, of course, I just love seeing Morell and Cushing share a scene together. They complemented each other's acting so well, whether playing friends or enemies, so this was a real treat for me. I think they should use scenes with these two to teach acting. And it was great casting because neither role would have worked if it wasn't supported by the other - if Hepburn wasn't charming and yet menacing enough, or if Fordyce wasn't rigid and yet vulnerable enough - but they both brought their A-game, as always, and were a great match for each other, as always.

Lastly, obviously, Peter Cushing as Fordyce. I believe I read somewhere that he said this was one of his favorite roles he did? And I agree. It's marvelous. He showed the world's most uptight, arrogant man being terrorized, humbled, and mentally broken, and he never once made it feel overly dramatic - he made someone we hated the second he appeared onscreen relatable and sympathetic, and it was masterful. The little touches like him squeezing Pearson's arm when he passes by escorting the policeman into his office for a drink - we don't need the words "I'm sorry and thank you" out loud because Peter Cushing made sure we saw Fordyce say them in other ways, and I love that. That's like...my favorite thing, lol.

And yes, the whump is great, too 🤷😂 But mostly I just... love this movie. I love the script, I love the acting. I have a lot of trouble staying focused on some movies, but this one I watch without getting distracted for a second, every time.

[cinderfeather]

Short Story Writing Tips for Fanfic Authors

While Edgar Allen Poe has many pretentious things to say on the merits of the Short Story (‘a work of art should be able to achieve its effect in one sitting’), I want to talk about them from a fanfiction perspective.

As fic writers, we are doing this hobby for fun, and frequently find ourselves hopping between shiny new idea, to shiny new idea, to shiny new idea…

...which is totally fine. However: to reduce this, I want to impress this upon you:

Keep your fic short enough to write within the span of dopamine it generates.

So while it’s still easy to generate long plots, I usually like to keep my stories small and focused wherever possible, so I can feel proud about ✨finishing✨ it and then have more energy to work on the next idea. In addition, if I have an idea tha t I think is cool, but not something I can fathom spending an entire year writing a novel-length-fic about, I can still write the idea if I think carefully about how I can work it into a short story.

Often writers way things like: 'I have 30k words to write just to get to the fun bit 😭😭😭'

Just write the fun bit.

It might be one thing for me to say that, but learning a bit of craft about short stories can make this easier.

So: one of the hardest things in a story is the ending, and short stories (especially origific) can be very challenging to create a satisfying ending with so little to work with.

In short story craft, there is a lot of talk about things like Hemingway’s ‘Iceberg Theory’:

Hemingway said that only the tip of the iceberg showed in fiction—your reader will see only what is above the water—but the knowledge that you have about your character that never makes it into the story acts as the bulk of the iceberg. And that is what gives your story weight and gravitas. — Jenna Blum in The Author at Work, 2013 (Wikipedia Link)

Fanfic is great for this! You already have a ton of character and plot fleshed out, so you can already have your iceberg while putting very little effort in. Short stories are already much easier as fic because they already have the 'iceberg of canon' beneath them, so make the most of it!

The next trick is ✨Authors Notes✨!

You can just say the background info plainly to the reader, without having to worry about crafting it nicely for the reader.

However, if you feel that the background info might be served best by putting it into the story, then let me introduce you to the next trick: Telling!

Think about summary the you have in your AN, and expand it into slightly longer ‘pretty’ prose:

Months went by. Trees bloomed, and forsook their leaves. One day, Mina stepped outside again.

That covers a year of a character being stuck in their grief, without having to mire reader in being stuck like that too.

We’ve all had ‘Show, don’t tell’ beaten into us with a hammer. But if it’s not important or interesting for you or your story, then just Tell it, and move on to the next exciting thing! What you want to do is research ways to use prose to convey the passing of time, write summaries and transition sequences, and work out ways to cut down and remove ‘all that writing you have to do to get to the fun scene’.

So, let’s say you had an idea for an achingly beautiful Suparbat story that worked like a Shakespearean tragedy inspired by Othello. You start brainstorming and writing fragments of all these scenes where they meet, fall in love, then have all these gradual misunderstandings caused by Lex trying to meddle and break them apart.

They pile up super high, and then there is this devastating, heart-pounding finale where they fight, along with the tragic ending and denouement.

You take your notes and start trying to plan out what scenes you will need, and your face goes pale as you estimate the story will probably be about 80k words.

You can’t commit to that, and you sense another shiny idea might be lurking on the horizon soon (and besides, you have other fics to finish). You consider abandoning it, resigned to the beauty of the story haunting you forever.

Hold up.

The tragic fight scene. That’s the one that excites you the most. Start writing that.

Bam, bam bam.

Why are they fighting? The audience is now curious and hooked, sitting breathless on the edge of their seat.

Line of dialogue! Ultra specific accusation!

Now the reader is intellectually hooked. What event is this specific detail referring to?

Flashback to one of the scenes where they met and were tenderly in love, linked by the line of dialogue before.

Now the reader is emotionally hooked. What happened to make them hate each other so?

The fight scene continues! Dramatic moments of action interspersed with flashbacks of those snippets you wrote—

Now the reader has been enthralled by all this awesome action, and has a good grasp of emotional arc and events that brought them to this point, with the juxtaposition of the moments of love and hate creating a tremendous experience.

The fatal wound, juxtaposed by the fatal misunderstanding that set Batman on this path… Those painful words exchanged in the present, that have been stuck in your head for weeks: Why? I loved you! Lex (aka Iago) comes out, doing a slow clap, and revealing how he plotted and schemed to sow this discord between Batman and Superman, to make Batman kill Superman for him. The achingly haunting moment of looking into each others eyes and Superman forgiving and trying to absolve Batman of his guilt before he dies. Bruce swiftly disabling Lex’s failsafe (to stop him from taking revenge, but its useless because he’s Batman) and holding a batarang to Lex’s throat.

Now you’ve used 80% of your notes, and you have a decent first draft already!

So now, what will Batman do? Break his moral code about killing again (he already did with Superman) and kill Lex? Try to set Lex on a path of rehabilitation?

So then you get stuck. But Cinder, this doesn’t work for me! All I can think of is to end it the same way as Othello! Which I can’t bear to write.

Hold up.

Go back over your story and start tightening it up. The idea that Bruce is willing to kill someone is quite important. Go back and add flashbacks (or add context to the existing flashbacks) about Bruce developing, sticking to or explaining his no-kill rule.

Then you write an epilogue, where a reformed Lex starts making all kinds of structural changes in the world, alongside all the people who stepped up after being inspired by Superman’s life and determination to let everyone have a chance at forgiveness. After this, you realise that the last line Superman needs to say is to beg Bruce not to continue his murder-rampage and kill Lex.

Then you go back over your story again, fleshing out Lex’s character and some of the hints and lines of dialogue he drops to round out his arc as well. The story feels nice, but still a little off. The ending of Othello haunts you. Do you need to kill Batman after all?

You try writing the scene with the climax ending on: ‘Now, the only way: the Bat will die upon the light.’

Then, as you edit the last bit of the epilogue, you add at the end that Bruce is still alive, observing it all, having hung up his cape as Batman, (because how else could their love end after this but with ‘Batman’ dying with him?). With the transformation that happened for both Lex and Bruce when he honoured Clark’s last wish, this meant that world also grew into a place where Batman wasn’t needed anymore.

So there you have a beautiful short story about not just love and romance, but grief and betrayal and death and killing and absolution and forgiveness and a love that grows beyond a romantic entanglement into a love that changes the world— 🥰🥰🥰

And under 3000 words.

Now other people will be haunted by your story for the rest of their lives, instead of you.

You will have to edit harder if you try to write as concisely as this, but overall I think you’ll get more stories finished if you experiment with focusing on writing the exciting bits, then sprinkling just enough scene fragments to make it work.

I often write out an idea for a few thousand words, till I get stuck, then go back over it and start thinking about how I can reorder and tweak it to bring what I already have to a satisfying ending.

It requires fumbling and sitting and thinking and figuring it out as I’m revising (as you saw in the example) but if you keep focused on making things shorter you’ll be surprised at just how short you can make it.

And how many things you can finish!

[guardian-angle22]

I promised a book haul of all the exciting books I purchased on my travels to London and Edinburgh! y'all... I bought TEN books...

Here is the stack of books and also some cute bookmarks I got from various places!

Here is the breakdown of all the books with their official descriptions:

Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson

Rosemary meets Ash at the farmers’ market. Ash—precise, pretty, and practically perfect—sells bars of soap in delicate pastel colors, sprinkle-spackled cupcakes stacked on scalloped stands, beeswax candles, jelly jars of honey, and glossy green plants. Ro has never felt this way about another woman; with Ash, she wants to be her and have her in equal measure. But as her obsession with Ash consumes her, she may find she’s not the one doing the devouring…

Monsters: What Do We Do With Great Art By Bad People? by Claire Dederer

Pablo Picasso beat his partners. Richard Wagner was deeply antisemitic. David Bowie slept with an underage fan. But many of us still love Guernica and the Ring cycle and Ziggy Stardust. And what are we to do with that love? How are we, as fans, to reckon with the biographical choices of the artists whose work sustains us? Wildly smart and insightful, Monsters is an exhilarating attempt to understand our relationship with art and the artist in the twenty-first century.

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi

One weekend. The elite underbelly of a Nigerian city. A breakup that starts a spiral. A party that goes awry. A tangled web of sex and lies and corruption that leaves no one unscathed. Little Rot is a whirling journey through the city’s dark side, told through the eyes of five people, each determined to run from the twisted powers out to destroy them. Aima and Kalu are a longtime couple who have just split. When Kalu, reeling from his loss, visits a sex party hosted by his best friend, Ahmed, he makes a decision that will plunge them all into chaos, brutally upending their lives. Ola and Souraya, two Nigerian sex workers visiting from Kuala Lumpur, intersect with the three old friends as everything goes to hell. Sucked into the city’s corrupt underworld, they’re all looking for a way out of the trouble they’ve instigated, driven by loss and fueled by a desperate need to escape the dangerous threat that looms over them. They careen madly in the face of the poison of power, sexual violence, murder, betrayals. Little Rot tests how far these five will go to save each other—or themselves—when confronted by evil, culminating in a shattering denouement.

The Wind Knows My Name by Isabel Allende

Vienna, 1938. Samuel Adler is five years old when his father disappears during Kristallnacht—the night his family loses everything. As her child’s safety becomes ever harder to guarantee, Samuel’s mother secures a spot for him on a Kindertransport train out of Nazi-occupied Austria to England. He boards alone, carrying nothing but a change of clothes and his violin.

Arizona, 2019. Eight decades later, Anita Díaz and her mother board another train, fleeing looming danger in El Salvador and seeking refuge in the United States. But their arrival coincides with the new family separation policy, and seven-year-old Anita finds herself alone at a camp in Nogales. She escapes her tenuous reality through her trips to Azabahar, a magical world of the imagination. Meanwhile, Selena Durán, a young social worker, enlists the help of a successful lawyer in hopes of tracking down Anita’s mother.

Intertwining past and present, The Wind Knows My Name tells the tale of these two unforgettable characters, both in search of family and home. It is both a testament to the sacrifices that parents make and a love letter to the children who survive the most unfathomable dangers—and never stop dreaming.

Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood by bell hooks

Stitching together the threads of her girlhood memories, bell hooks shows us one strong-spirited child's journey toward becoming the pioneering writer we know. Along the way, hooks sheds light on the vulnerability of children, the special unfurling of female creativity and the imbalance of a society that confers marriage's joys upon men and its silences on women. In a world where daughters and fathers are strangers under the same roof, and crying children are often given something to cry about, hooks uncovers the solace to be found in solitude, the comfort to be had in the good company of books. Bone Black allows us to bear witness to the awakening of a legendary author's awareness that writing is her most vital breath.

A House at the Bottom of a Lake by Josh Malerman

Both seventeen. Both afraid. But both saying yes. It sounded like the perfect first date: canoeing across a chain of lakes, sandwiches and beer in the cooler. But teenagers Amelia and James discover something below the water’s surface that changes their lives forever. It’s got two stories. It’s got a garden. And the front door is open. It’s a house at the bottom of a lake. For the teens, there is only one rule: no questions. And yet, how could a place so spectacular come with no price tag? While the duo plays house beneath the waves, one reality remains: Just because a house is empty, doesn’t mean nobody’s home.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner

Kissen’s family were killed by zealots of a fire god. Now, she makes a living killing gods, and enjoys it. That is until she finds a god she cannot kill: Skedi, a god of white lies, has somehow bound himself to a young noble, and they are both on the run from unknown assassins. Joined by a disillusioned knight on a secret quest, they must travel to the ruined city of Blenraden, where the last of the wild gods reside, to each beg a favour. Pursued by demons, and in the midst of burgeoning civil war, they will all face a reckoning – something is rotting at the heart of their world, and only they can be the ones to stop it.

People Love Dead Jews: Reports from a Haunted Present by Dara Horn

Renowned and beloved as a prizewinning novelist, Dara Horn has also been publishing penetrating essays since she was a teenager. Often asked by major publications to write on subjects related to Jewish culture—and increasingly in response to a recent wave of deadly antisemitic attacks—Horn was troubled to realize what all of these assignments had in common: she was being asked to write about dead Jews, never about living ones. In these essays, Horn reflects on subjects as far-flung as the international veneration of Anne Frank, the mythology that Jewish family names were changed at Ellis Island, the blockbuster traveling exhibition Auschwitz, the marketing of the Jewish history of Harbin, China, and the little-known life of the "righteous Gentile" Varian Fry. Throughout, she challenges us to confront the reasons why there might be so much fascination with Jewish deaths, and so little respect for Jewish lives unfolding in the present. Horn draws upon her travels, her research, and also her own family life—trying to explain Shakespeare’s Shylock to a curious ten-year-old, her anger when swastikas are drawn on desks in her children’s school, the profound perspective offered by traditional religious practice and study—to assert the vitality, complexity, and depth of Jewish life against an antisemitism that, far from being disarmed by the mantra of "Never forget," is on the rise. As Horn explores the (not so) shocking attacks on the American Jewish community in recent years, she reveals the subtler dehumanization built into the public piety that surrounds the Jewish past—making the radical argument that the benign reverence we give to past horrors is itself a profound affront to human dignity.

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

In 1949 Helene Hanff, a “poor writer with an antiquarian taste in books”, wrote to Marks & Co Booksellers of 84 Charing Cross Rd, in search of the rare editions she was unable to find in New York. Her books were dispatched with polite but brisk efficiency. But, seeking further treasures, Helene soon found herself in regular correspondence with bookseller Frank Doel, laying siege to his English reserve with her warmth and wit. And as letters, books and quips crossed the ocean, a friendship flourished that would endure for twenty years.

Rouge by Mona Awad

For as long as she can remember, Belle has been insidiously obsessed with her skin and skincare videos. When her estranged mother Noelle mysteriously dies, Belle finds herself back in Southern California, dealing with her mother’s considerable debts and grappling with lingering questions about her death. The stakes escalate when a strange woman in red appears at the funeral, offering a tantalizing clue about her mother’s demise, followed by a cryptic video about a transformative spa experience. With the help of a pair of red shoes, Belle is lured into the barbed embrace of La Maison de Méduse, the same lavish, culty spa to which her mother was devoted. There, Belle discovers the frightening secret behind her (and her mother’s) obsession with the mirror—and the great shimmering depths (and demons) that lurk on the other side of the glass. Snow White meets Eyes Wide Shut in this surreal descent into the dark side of beauty, envy, grief, and the complicated love between mothers and daughters. With black humor and seductive horror, Rouge explores the cult-like nature of the beauty industry—as well as the danger of internalizing its pitiless gaze. Brimming with California sunshine and blood-red rose petals, Rouge holds up a warped mirror to our relationship with mortality, our collective fixation with the surface, and the wondrous, deep longing that might lie beneath.

[beatricebidelaire]

Verse Flirtation Declaration

Bertrand and Dewey flirt, using the Verse Fluctuation Declaration code.

~1.7k. Bertrand Baudelaire / Dewey Denouement

rating: mature

happy birthday to the penultimate peril, my beloved favorite book from the series <3

___

It begins with the little poetry notes they leave each other, in the name of academic curiosity and studies.

Poems they've come across and found interesting and wanted to share with each other, neatly copied down into little notes, left on each other's desk or mailbox or cabinets or various other places. It's a longtime habit, a tradition of theirs.

Then they're taught the Verse Fluctuation Declaration, substituting words in a poem to pass along a message. Initially they use it just to relay simple messages to each other, necessary information that needs to be conveyed quickly but discreetly. And then they start using it more, and that became some kind of game between them. Finding increasingly obscure poems that'll take more time for the other to research and decode, as a challenge for each other.

The tones of the messages changed, too. From standard information, simple yet succinct, to increasingly flirtatious words. Gradually they started flirting, enjoying the thrill of this method of flirtation.

It's fun. Challenging. A secret between them, an inside joke.

[continue reading on ao3] [squidgeworld]

[blood-teeth]

hi! any tips for turning an idea into a plot / story?

hiiii sorry this took me so long!! tumblr doesn't tell me when i get an ask anymore for some reason???? idk idk but!

✨✨✨morgan's guide to turning ideas into a story✨✨✨

these may not work for you BUT if you're having a hard time piecing together something then i would give these a shot!

the first thing i do when i have an idea i write it down. USUALLY my ideas for me come in a sentence. For Tell Me If There's A Way Home, the sentence was "cowgirl that has to keep burying a body that pops up along her journey"

for This Grave Calls You Home it was "in the light of a dying star, the last astronaut wakes up"

BRAINSTORMING:

so anyway i immediately write this down somewhere, usually the notes app on my phone and i STOP WHAT IM DOING IMMEDIATELY

for me, i have hundreds of these sentences written down somewhere, but the ones that stick with me always stay in the back of my throat.

if its one that gets me really hot and bothered, then the seed is planted and it needs some water babes....

im RUNNING to find media that i feel fits with the idea ... on that netflix or spotify or library app STAT looking for anything that will help that seed grow inside my head. i need the VIBES and the MUSIC and ATMOSPHERE.

once that's on lock...i'm plotting with my little grimy hands rubbing together...

...and i buy...another....notebook... and i KNOW this sounds ridiculous but hear me out...writing in notebook vs on a computer has genuinely saved my life with writer's block so many times. ideas and thoughts and fragments just flow when i allow myself to write in a notebook. idk what it is. but this is just me, if computers or typewriters or what have you works then STICK WITH IT

by the time i'm done scribbling ideas in my notebook and acting unhinged, i have a decent idea about the atmosphere and the themes i'm looking to write about

IF AN IDEA CAME TO YOU, IT MEANS SOMETHING IMPORTANT. DON'T DISREGARD THIS

you need to figure out what it is about the idea that means so much to you - and whatever that reason is, that's gonna be the fundamental core of your story.

PLOTTING:

i have to admit something. i dont plot my stories. i dont know how to plot. i like to discover the story right alongside everyone else. what's gonna happen next? idk babes you and me are gonna find out together.

BUT i do try to have a general idea of where the story STARTS and ENDS. everything else is trial and error. and if u dont have any idea where the story ends, just know it'll come to you eventually. u have thousands and thousands of words to write before the end, so don't sweat this; it'll happen. even if its really simple!

using Tell Me If There's A Way Home as an example:

Start: a woman doesn't know who she is, only knows that she's looking for something

End: She's Found The Thing

think of it like a question and answer. (also! NOT answering the question is totally valid story telling too)

if u are really struggling, the number one thing i suggest is READING. you can glean so much information from reading its actually crazy. study your favorite books or movies or video games. almost always in western media there is the exposition, conflict, rising action, climax, falling action, and denouement. (this is super formulaic, so don't feel tied down by this! just a guide line.)

SETTING:

i think everyone gets really tied up in knots about setting. and it shouldn't be like that! this should be YOUR fun!!

setting has very little to do with story/plot itself. it affects the ATMOSPHERE of the story you're telling instead. (except, like, if you're telling an alice in wonderland story or a story about climate change ofc, there's exceptions to everything)

look the locked tomb for example. take out the space aspect, this story at its heart would be the exact same if it were set underwater inside decomissioned underwater research facilities. its just cool as fuck to have a space nun living on pluto.

Take twin peaks and put it in space. the heart of the show works anywhere, but the atmosphere and the mood is enhanced because its in a small, strange town.

you can write a story about generational trauma and put it into the world of jurassic park.

anyway, i hope that you are hearing me say have fun with your setting. it absolutely is a part of the story you're telling, but it is not the heart of it (sometimes)

MISC TIPS:

remember that this is YOUR work. you do whatever you want. it's not up to anyone else.

be obsessed with your own world and your characters!! i literally went to a craft store and made a rosary today for one of my characters and it has actually helped me write a ton today.

you are not stuck in this story. i feel like a pitfall i face often is like "ah man but this writing doesnt make sense in this genre i cant write this" and its like YEAH I CAN. why cANT I . do whatever you want with your story im so serious. you have no idea how many books are releasing now and the common feedback is "man this feels like a book ive read a million times before" and with movies its a remake or based off a book like the entertainment industry DESPERATELY needs new original ideas SO SO BAD. dont be scared to write that book that you're worried is too weird or doesn't make sense trust me.

make playlists! watch movies! play video games! these are all things that count as writing believe it or not.

and remember you are loved !

[utilitycaster]

I’ve long noticed and previously commented on the odd fandom antipathy towards characters like Suvi of Worlds Beyond Number and Jonas Spahr from Midst; and simultaneously a far, far more generous approach to outright villains like Will Gallows, many of the witches, and Moc Weepe.

I’ve also commented on the favor and endless forgiveness shown villains before, and to get it out of the way, yes, a lot of this is due to horny reasons, and as someone who does not identify personally as a monsterfucker this might be part of my lack of interest. But I think it would be unwise to chalk this up entirely to people wanting to fuck the villains, and given that Suvi and Jonas are both extremely attractive as well it’s certainly not the whole picture.

Suvi and Jonas are born into and achieve positions of privilege - military/political no less - in imperial societies. They are both explicitly indoctrinated. They are not, in my opinion, brainwashed; but they are driven into who they become through competition.

I think a lot of people are really uncomfortable with characters shown to be complicit in and favored within this kind of society. I think Spahr and Suvi occupy a space that they find too close to home; too close to what they themselves are. A villain validates one’s beliefs: Weepe is ruthlessly self-interested, driven by profit, and terribly violent, and so it’s easier to be comfortable with him, ironically enough, because the story tells you he’s a bastard and you can feel good about clocking him as a bastard, and even like that this character is on a meta level telling you that you’re right in your beliefs.

Suvi and Jonas and those like them don’t permit you that validation. They participate in these harmful systems while believing it to be the right thing to do. They are also young people who grew up knowing little else, with unfathomably high expectations placed upon them. They are flawed, with no shortage of harsh edges, but they are also frequently kind and generous people who are incredibly important, as they currently are, to characters one might find more sympathetic. They are deeply human. And they are both the beneficiaries and the victims of a vast and complicated system. You cannot fit them into the box of a “stripped of choice” victim even though both have found themselves backed against a wall by their respective societies. You cannot avoid that the dissolution of their society would have devastating consequences, even if it might be right (which Midst directly explores; I suspect the Citadel might not be a thing to be dissolved). And while many people do so, one cannot in good faith and intelligent analysis treat them as nothing more than a shipping doll who needs to be programmed to become a mirror of the “correct” character of one’s choosing without ignoring who they are and what they bring to the table: a political savvy, a great deal of talent and intelligence, and a desire to embody the best parts of their respective flawed societies.

As Midst reaches its denouement, one of the core messages is that a harmful society is still one comprised of people: some upholding it, some actively furthering it, and some just living within it. While Worlds Beyond Number is nowhere near its end, Brennan Lee Mulligan’s body of work upholds a similar message; that one cannot lose sight of the personhood of people, even those involved in messy and damaging systems, and that people must be judged with that in mind. Suvi and Spahr are not cogs to be wrenched free and corrected, but characters to appreciate in their complexity. It is a shame that so many reject them in favor of those who consistently choose to do harm because it is less difficult and challenging to think in terms of Good Guy/Bad Guy.

[writingquestionsanswered]

How many words is too many? I have written over 80,000 words already and don't have a computer to edit properly. I've already decided to split the story among multiple books. But how many should each be? I am aiming for a basic novel to a little bit longer, but as a first-time author, I don't want to write something too long and not get anyone to read it.

Finding Your Story's Target Word Count

"How many words is too many" depends on what you're writing. Every type of story and every genre has a different word count range, and the specific ranges vary depending on who you ask. Here are some general ranges you can target...

Story Type:

Short Stories - 1,000 - 5,000 words Novellas - 20,000 to 50,000 words Novels - 50,000 - 110,000 words Epic Novel - 110,000 words and up (though these are rare)

Age Category:

Middle Grade novels - 25,000 - 40,000 words Young Adult novels - 45,000 - 80,000 words New Adult novels - 60,000 - 85,000 words Adult novels - 65,000 - 110,000

Genre:

Literary novels - 80,000 to 110,000 words Romance novels - 50,000 to 80,000 words Fantasy novels - 90,000 to 110,000 words Mystery novels - 70,000 to 90,000 words

It's important to remember that a book series isn't one long novel chopped up into smaller books. Each book in a series needs to have its own story arc. In other words, a beginning/inciting incident, middle/rising action, and end/climax and denouement. That said, you will need to look at the completed story and identify the natural story arcs that exist within it to figure out where each book should end and the next book should begin.

Something else to consider is your publishing goal. If you plan on pursuing traditional publishing, you might look into writing an in-depth summary of the entire story and working with a developmental editor or book coach to figure out how to best divvy up the story between books. That way, you'll ensure that book one is as strong as it can be, which will increase the likelihood of getting a book deal. After that, if your book sells well enough to warrant the publishing of the next book, you will have some guidance on where to go from there.

If you're planning to self-publish, you can still look into working with an editor or book coach, or even a critique partner, or you can just make the best decision you're able to about how to divide each book. Again, what matters is that each part of the story centers on its own individual story arc.

Something else to consider: if you have a really long story that you want to chop up into pieces rather than individual books, you might look into posting it as a serial on a site like Wattpad, Kindle Vella, Ream, or similar services. Serialization allows you to take a long story and chop it up into sizeable pieces, such as "episodes," and then you don't have to worry so much about dividing it up into books with their own individual story arcs.

One final consideration: Not having the ability to edit properly is not an excuse to publish an unedited work of fiction. No one wants to read an unedited story, even if it's chopped up into pieces. If you want to publish this story, whether online, traditionally, or self-published, you need to find a way to edit it properly and make sure you're putting a tight and polished version of the story out into the world.

Here are some additional links:

Self-Editing Tips Editing Tips Ten Ways to Cut Your Word Count

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[ehlnofay]

Travelling with Martin the second time is more an ordeal than it was the first.

There’s the Blades tagging along with them, now, with their elaborate plans and zealous concern; every time any one of them takes a step they rattle like tin cans, so loudly that if any of the cult is trying to track them down it’s a wonder they’re not all gutted already. Then there’s all the extra bits the Blades insist on – like tents, which Pax is by no means opposed to but slows them down ridiculously, always needing to be set up at night and taken down first thing in the morning, or the horses, which speed them up but Pax resents, all the same. (They always need breaks to rest or eat or what have you, and riding for too long sets them aching to hell, their legs and hips and stomach all quavering with exertion. Pax rides the same horse they found halfway through their first journey with Martin, and she is getting more familiar than she ever wanted to be with its little snorts and stomping gestures. Martin keeps patting it on the nose whenever they’re down on the ground again. Martin rides the paint horse, too – it’s two to a steed, plus bags, which Pax knows would be enough to snap their spines like dried-out twigs but of course the Blades have spelled saddles. Feathered, Martin says, like Pax has any idea what that means.) They all spend as much of the day riding as they can without the horses withering away and dropping dead, unable to divert at all from the roads without riding face-first into a tree branch, the Blades getting all serious and severe at any passing glimpse of another traveller, or the edge of a town, or a suspicious-looking boulder. It’s fucking exhausting. Maybe if they’d dressed Martin in something less impractically fancy, and left their glittering armour behind, they wouldn’t all be so conspicuous. Pax is the only one here with any sense.

In Blackwood, the trees don’t sprawl so low down; you can ride horses well off the road as long as you’re careful of the muck. For the first leg of the first trip with Martin, they didn’t have horses at all – they both just walked, past razed fields and empty buildings, the span of land around Kvatch near entirely abandoned, scrounging what they could and sleeping wherever they wanted. They couldn’t proper restock on supplies until they hit Skingrad – certainly didn’t have tents or armour that reflects every whisper of starlight so bright it blazes, and they were fine. It all feels unnecessary. And annoying. This close to the end, all the little extra things to pay attention to make Pax want to jump out of his skin.

Because they are close to the end. They’re in the denouement, now.

The Blades set up a watch routine, too – everyone crawls into their superfluous tents and leave one person up to keep an eye out, until they wake the next person for their turn, and so forth. Pax hasn’t done watch shifts like this since he left Blackwood. (It doesn’t really work, when you’re alone. Besides, he wakes easy, and he goes to sleep quick. Martin’s bad at it, so swapping watch back and forth when they were together just would have left him confused or lethargic the next day. Not worth the bother.) Pax gets watch shifts, most nights, set in the dark hours just before the sun rises; Martin, though he asks, doesn’t get any. Pax usually wakes him up, instead of whoever else she’s supposed to. It isn’t like he has anything he needs to be especially well-rested for – just sitting on a horse in an enchanted double saddle, same as the rest of them, his too-long hair getting in his face, careful arms loops around Pax’s middle. He won’t even take a turn to direct the bloody thing, because he still hasn’t learned how – the fact that he’s never managed to fall off is a damned miracle, honestly.

So she wakes him up, if the Blades won’t – and she doesn’t usually go back to sleep, right after, because there doesn’t seem all that much point. They both stay up, around whatever burnt-down firepit was constructed in the night, the small tents arrayed around them; the leaves of the trees rustle, flickered through by some small animal, owl or bat or squirrel living in a hollow. Crickets chirp, loud and endless.  It would probably be peaceful, if it could be, but Pax is keyed up, taut as a bowstring ready to snap, and he can’t really remember how to feel peaceful anymore. They’re getting ever-closer to the capital and the temple and the end of this whole strange, terrifying thing, and he wants it over and done with instead of lurking in this strange in-between space. They’ve all done so much to fix this and none of it will feel like any kind of accomplishment until the fires are lit and the Gates closed and sealed beyond reopening. It’s almost, almost, almost done – but it’s not the end yet, and in the quiet night all there is to do is waiting, and Pax, antsy, irritable, is very, very bad at waiting.

Martin’s better at it. Which isn’t to say he’s not nervous – he’s all nerves, even more than normal, which is really saying something – but he’s patient, and doesn’t complain, even though Pax knows he wants it over just as much as they do. Probably more. (Definitely more.) He just sits, in the dark and the dew, all quiet and watchful in just his undershirt and warm wool trousers, and even those are fancy, all fine-sewn and slippery as water to the touch. They wear oddly on him. He keeps the Amulet tucked under his clothes, cold metal setting against bare skin, and the red gleam beneath his shirt makes it look, at certain angles, like his heart is glowing.

The fire is well out; no owls call. Pax lies, in their own much less swish sleeping-things, in the dirt and grass, all of it wet so thoroughly with dew that it soaks the back of their tunic. Through the silhouettes of leaves and branches, they can just make out the lustre of the stars.

The old Emperor talked an awful lot about stars, when Pax met him; she wonders, vaguely, what he’d make of these ones.

There’s a shifting, up nearer the firepit; and, “Pax?” Martin whispers, sound half-swallowed by the still, drifting night. “Are you awake?”

“It’s sopping wet,” Pax replies. He props himself up on his elbow and turns his head; Martin’s got a lantern lit, and it’s just enough to make out his face by. “Even I’ve got my limits.”

Martin exhales; Pax knows he’s smiling because they can see the dim white gleam of his teeth. It’s not too cold a night – they’ve travelled far enough from Bruma to be clear of its sodden snow and ice and winds – but it’s not warm, and the wet fabric plastered to their back is chill enough to make them shiver. The stars, up above, shine cold and clear.

“I was wondering,” Martin says, voice still hushed; his eyes flicker up to the snatches of sky between the tree branches, too. “What will you do, when all this is done?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question; Pax realises, quite abruptly, that doesn’t have an answer. She sits up, shuffles awkwardly over the dewy grass. “I don’t know,” she says slowly; she shrugs. “Go back to the roads, I s’pose. Get some venturing work. Join a guild, maybe, if I get bored.”

(They haven’t thought about it; they’ve been busy. A part of them – quite a large part, if they’re being honest – kind of wishes the Crisis would never end, one way or the other. Wishes it would keep on in this sort of suspended state forever. But it won’t, and it can’t, and it would be ridiculous to say as much. Just – they’ve never done anything this exciting, before. And they don’t really know anything that could measure up, once it’s done.)

(Pax has never really been one to plan for the future. Back in Blackwood, he didn’t have to; he knew he’d just run with the same crew he always had, and he learned only from them. Learned letters and archery and what dregs of mage-craft he had any aptitude for – learned to scamp on the roads and crack locks reasonably well. And then he left, and became a hero, and that’s a good occupation in itself, but it’s not going to last forever. He’s not sure what his other options are – he could try to work square, but he doesn’t think it would last. He’s not one suited to an apprenticeship, or an honest job, or much of anything, really. The only thing he really knows is this.)

In the lanternlight, the shadows are so stark that Martin’s face looks creased with ink. “Oh? What guild? Fighters? Thieves?”

“Thieves’ Guild wouldn’t take me,” Pax tells him loftily; they wriggle a bit closer, goose-pimples rising on their shins. “They don’t like independent operators, and I’ve been one since I was born.”

Martin clucks his tongue. “You can’t say things like that around me, Pax. I’ll have to have you arrested.”

“Like you could,” Pax tells him, grinning, and leans over about as far as she can reach to elbow him. She has to lever herself back up, afterwards. The watery-pale stars are winking at her.

Martin is looking up at them again. “There’s always work for a hero, I’m sure,” he says, and waves a hand. “You’ll have endless people to save and feats of derring-do to perform. Perhaps you could write an autobiography.”

“Ha.” Martin’s received their letters, sent on longer stretches away from Cloud Ruler; he’s read their writing, their chicken-scratch hand and the less than delicate way they pick their words. Pax is fine enough as a communicator; they get to the point quickly and clearly. But metaphor and flowery prose is rather beyond them. And they’ve seen the speech Martin gave in Bruma, the endless editing of his drafts, debate over this word or that. “You know you’re the better writer of the two of us, Martin Priest. Reckon you should pen our book.”

Martin tips his head further back. “I wasn’t even there for most of the interesting parts,” he points out, “and I’m sure to be far too busy, besides.” His eyes are closed. Pax shunts themself another bit across the grass.

“Oh, I’m sure you can take a half-hour every evening to scribble out a few paragraphs in your four-poster bed and your kingliest pyjamas,” he says, unsympathetic, and flicks him in the shoulder. “With a silk canopy, and duckling-down blankets, and a pen nib of solid gold.”

“All right, all right.” Martin opens his eyes; they look grey, in the dim light, the orange lanternlight flickering off their whites. He reaches out an arm, and Pax rolls his eyes but shuffles damply into it all the same. “I suppose I have no choice.”

His arm, settled around their shoulders, is heavy-warm. Pax leans their shoulder into his ribs, under his armpit. This close, they can see the faint gleam of the Amulet through his undershirt. Quiet, they ask, “Still nervous?”

Without missing a beat, Martin replies, “Excruciatingly.”

He’s always nervous. But on this, Pax can’t even really make fun of him for it – if someone told her that she was the heir to the whole Empire, and tried to thrust her into court to take it all over, she’d tell them to eat shit. If the fate of the world depended on it, though, that wouldn’t really be an option anymore. And Martin’s too nice, most of the time, to tell anyone to eat shit. And Martin’s too nervous not to take every bit of it so painfully seriously. Not just the world-ending bit, but all the etiquette and legalese, too. Jauffre gave him some books to read to try to acquaint himself with it all; none of them seemed to help much.

“You’ll be fine,” Pax says, and leans their head on his shoulder, the post of their earring jabbing into the skin behind their ear. They gesture out at the silhouetted tents. “You’ve got all this lot, and the Elder Council – they’ll help you out. If they won’t let you take a piss by yourself they’ll definitely be there to assist with the stuff that’s actually important.” Martin exhales; it’s almost a laugh. The earring is beginning to hurt quite badly, so Pax lifts their head. “Besides, you’re trying. You want to get it all right. That’s more than some would do.”

“Thank you, Pax,” Martin says, and then they’re both quiet.

The stars above look watery-dim. The silhouettes of trees have slightly more dimension. Martin is pressing his palm, fingers splayed, to the smooth-cut bump of the Amulet under his shirt. Pax is still shivering, a bit – lying her whole back down in the dew was a bad idea. Now she’ll have to wear her one other tunic and hope this one dries out in time not to wet everything else in the bags.

“I hope,” Martin says, voice silver-soft in the dark, “that when you’re out roaming, shocking everyone with your valour and intrepidity, you’ll come to visit a great deal. You won’t have the excuse of being out saving the world anymore.”

Pax leans her shoulder harder into his ribs. “Only if you’re not boring when I’m there,” she replies. “You won’t have the excuse of saving the world either.”

“No,” Martin says. “I’ll be running it instead.”

Already, the stars are beginning to snuff themselves out, like candle-lights; in half an hour or so, the sky will start to lighten properly. The Blades will all wake, springing up like little clockwork puppets, and the tents will be packed up, and the horses saddled – they’re tied on slack ropes to trees down the other end of the clearing, and now, if Pax squints, he can just make them out – and then the day will begin, the timer trickling down.

Pax wets his lips. “Three more days,” he says. “Thereabouts.”

Then they’ll reach the city.

Martin breathes out, slow. “Then I’ll really be Martin Septim.”

The Amulet glows under his shirt, royal-red, rising and dimming like a heartbeat. If Pax hadn’t been arrested, that day – by chance, for one of the few robberies they actually didn’t commit – then they wouldn’t have been taken to the gaol, dribbling blood all over the floors, antagonising the guards trying to mark them down in the records, and they wouldn’t have ended up in that dust-coated cell with the shitty neighbour across the way, and the old Emperor would never have glanced at them twice, and the door never would have opened, and they wouldn’t be here.

Pax is not one for gratitude, generally, but they have never been so thankful to be falsely imprisoned in their life.

“My census name’s Camilla Patesco,” he says.

He’s looking at the first watery dregs of dawn in the sky, not at Martin’s face; but he can hear the smile in his voice when he replies, “I won’t tell anyone.”