#life of a fanfiction writer

[sleepdepravity]

oh I guess I can also just mention that sister got me to watch mob psycho 100 over the course of the Florida vacation essentially and we finished it like Sunday and the sinister thing is she casually just posts about her desire for a serirei fic about being roommates while we were in the middle of season 1 and basically it’s Tuesday now and I have eight pages of a serirei roommates fic drafted.

[charbroiledchicken]

"you're the writer, you control how the story goes" no not really. i wrote the first sentence and then my characters said "WE WILL TAKE IT FROM HERE" and promptly swerved into an electrical fence.

[kriz-smthn]

[thewatcher727]

Writing Description Notes:

Updated 9th September 2024 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

Confidence/Determination/Hopeful

Surprised/Shocked

Guilt/Regret

Disgusted/Jealous

Uncertain/Doubtful/Worried

Anger/Rage

Laughter

Confused

Speechless/Tongue Tied

Fear/Terrified

Mental Pain

Physical Pain

Tired/Drowsy/Exhausted

Eating

Drinking

Warm/Hot

[kookntae4ever]

This is me. Kinda jealous of all the writers who can write quickly because I can't.

[writersshitpost]

[inkandpaperqwerty]

I don't even do outlines anymore, but this still happens. Planning means nothing; never has.

[conphusedredpandaa]

Never forgotten but...never finished.

[thewriterswitch]

[risafeywritesdrarry]

When writing fanfiction... there are two beasts that wage war within the writer. *sage nod*

[includedisco]

Dear fanfic writers, your need to get VALIDATION for your creativity is VALID

Look, there is no gun to our heads and no one is making us put our blood, sweat and tears into these stories we're writing. But look at it this way, we're human too and everyone likes to get compliments.

Writing for self enjoyment is the goal but don't feel bad for craving more support, hits, kudos, comments, etc. Just because it's fanfiction doesn't mean it's less mentally stressful to do, and it sure doesn't make the stories mean less to us as writers.

Our work is rich and awesome too and we deserve a good pat on the back for it. We deserve to get acknowledgement and credit for it🤝

[sleepdepravity]

Like. I really did just sit down and go like, “you know what, I think I will make up eight whole characters and then use them to write a 2.6k word ten-person conversation.” Why did I do that? Why.

[sleepdepravity]

I think it’s important to add that smartphones nowadays have accessibility features that you can use instead. On the iPhone in the accessibility settings, you can go to Spoken Content and turn on speak selection. This makes it so when you select text on the screen, there’s an added button that says “Speak.”

I don’t know anything about android phones but I imagine that they also have something similar.

I realize the step of having to select text might feel annoying when you just want to have a fic audiobook, but i figure it’s good to note that you already have options available. You don’t need people to market to you something that’s already here.

There’s also options for offline access in case you want that too. Ao3 lets you download fic, which, again, you can use the accessibility feature to read it out. This is just off the top of my head though.

In any case as a writer, the reason I don’t like AI audiobooks is that it doesn’t give control about how it’s read. AI doesn’t necessarily know how to read names or stress certain words. It can’t really make the dialogue distinct from narration, and I don’t even want to know what it would do with my intentional mangling of grammar.

Hey I don’t know if this is being talked about on Tumblr but thankfully the AO3 subreddit has a conversation going about this app that just went live.

TikTok user unravel.me.now has just launch an app (lore.fm) she is calling “Audible for AO3”. It’s an app that uses AI voices to read out fics.

🚨She is requiring any authors who do not want their fics to be on this app to OPT OUT by emailing team@lore.fm 🚨 🚨She has not given an actual template or how you’re supposed to prove you’re the author or said how her team will process this or how she will keep these requests secure🚨

I do not have this app. I haven’t seen anyone use it yet. According to Reddit users, unravel.me.now’s earlier TikToks stated she envisions the app being able to create libraries stored on that app and to have version of “Spotify wrapped”. That implies that eventually data collection must happen, if it’s not happening currently.

I don’t know the actual capabilities of this app. I don’t know the legalities. I do know that it personally feels like this app is trying to turn AO3 into a content generation source and I haven’t heard of the app allowing you to leave a comment or kudos or interact with the original work.

I’m just sad about this.

[itsawritblr]

That fic idea that won't leave me alone.

[thewatcher727]

Writing Description Notes: Physical Pain

Updated 6th June 2024 More description notes

It was as if his bones were made of glass, shattering into a million pieces with every movement and sending waves of sharp, shooting pain coursing through his limbs.

His muscles screamed in protest with every step, each movement sending jolts of electric pain shooting through his body.

The ache settled deep into his bones, a dull, persistent throb that seemed to resonate with every heartbeat.

Every inch of his body felt tenderized, as if he had been used as a punching bag in a brutal workout session.

The sensation of blood trickling down his skin was a grim reminder of the violence he had endured.

His ribs screamed in protest with every breath, each inhalation a sharp reminder of the blows he had taken.

The world seemed to spin around him in a dizzying blur, his vision clouded by the stars of pain that danced across his field of vision with every movement.

A sharp, stabbing sensation shot through his lower back, making him wince.

Her temples throbbed with a relentless, pounding headache.

He clutched his side, pain radiating from the bruise with every breath.

Her muscles screamed in protest, the soreness a reminder of yesterday’s workout.

A burning ache spread through his chest, each heartbeat intensifying the agony.

She bit her lip, trying to stifle the groan as pain flared in her twisted ankle.

His knuckles were raw and throbbing, evidence of the fight.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, a dull ache settling behind her eyes.

A searing pain lanced through his knee, nearly buckling his leg.

She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white as pain shot through her arm.

Her trembling hands betrayed the unyielding agony in her joints, a relentless companion.

Doubled over, he fought against the relentless cramps that seized his stomach.

A sudden, searing pain in her wrist forced her to relinquish her grip, the cup clattering to the ground.

Every step reverberated through her aching feet, a reflection to the miles she had traversed.

Rubbing his shoulder provided little respite from the persistent agony that gnawed at the joint.

A sharp sting on her finger brought fresh irritation, the paper cut a small but sharp reminder of vulnerability.

His tooth throbbed incessantly, a deep, pulsating ache that clouded his thoughts.

Each movement of her stiff and sore neck elicited a fresh wave of discomfort, a constant reminder of strain.

A stabbing pain in his chest made each breath a struggle, a reminder of mortality's grasp.

The throbbing in his hand, where the door had slammed shut, served as a relentless reminder of his own clumsiness.

A dull ache settled deep within her lower back, rendering even sitting a feat of endurance.

His leaden legs protested with every step, each movement a symphony of agony.

His head spun, the pain behind his eyes making it hard to focus.

Sharp pangs in her side served as a reminder of the physical toll of her exertion, a stitch from pushing too hard.

His throbbing ankle, swollen and tender, made each step a test of willpower.

Gritting her teeth against the shooting pain, she cursed the strain from overuse that tormented her wrist.

Pressing a hand to his chest, he felt the pain radiate outward in relentless waves, a reminder of vulnerability.

Her burning shoulder protested each movement, the pain a constant reminder of her injury.

He winced as sharp pains flared in his elbow, each movement a reminder of his body's fragility.

A deep ache throbbed in her hip, a persistent discomfort that refused to be ignored.

His fingers tingled with pain, a result of gripping the tool too tightly for too long.

[joker-and-the-queen]

“I’m writing,” I say as I pace around my room listening to the same song for the 19th time, daydreaming about the general *vibe* of my story.