#mad writing

[mad-c1oud]

Chapter 9 Part 1- A Reminder

recall, rant, run, rage

[the-corset-witch]

gunna grab a fresh caffeine, do the inspiration dance, and try to make the words happen

[aquestiontotheworld]

Needles

I have come out/been outed to my mother at least 4 times over the course of my life. I won't bore you with the details, but as anyone who knows me will not be shocked to find out, each one was suitably dramatic and tear-filled. Each time it happened, however, I left the interaction feeling embarrassed and ignored, mostly because she always had some reason for why she didn't think I was right about myself. I was just trying to fit in with a crowd, she didn't want me to label myself and close myself off from any future opportunities or experiences, she worried about how I would be treated by an unkind world, and so on, and, like a child who has been raised by a woman who told me things like "the only people you can ever trust in the world are me and you, baby", I listened to her, I took in her opinion as fact, and I folded myself up and neatly replaced myself back in the closet, identity to be examined at a later date. It's only been in recent years, and with a lot of therapy, that I can confidently say that her responses were never actually about me, she didn't actually say those things because she knew me better than I knew myself; she said those things because of her own discomfort. She hadn't planned for me to be my own complete, confident, separate person, and so she lashed out and tried to keep things the way she wanted. I can also see just how used to this treatment I was, too. Any time I did something that she didn't like, even if it wasn't something "bad", there were screaming arguments and silent treatment, inescapable rants about how betrayed she felt, how she had made sure I never endured the abuse she had as a child, so I needed to be grateful, and my actions now feel like a slap in the face or a knife in her back. In contrast, to me, my relationship with my mother has never felt like a knife in my back; there was never really a major betrayal or argument or incident that harmed me enough to make me reconsider our relationship. It was more like millions of little tattoo needles spread out over my whole life, each pinprick slowly colouring me and changing me until I looked down and realised that I didn't know who I was anymore. I have spent a decade now slowly discovering the depth of the colours and words she painted me with, working out what is salvageable and what I now want nothing to do with, until finally this year I told her that I didn't want her near me any longer. My skin is broken and battered and bruised from two and a half decades of being her daughter, and I just can't take it anymore. I look at myself now, especially since that conversation, and I see all the good, bad, messy, complicated bits of me that are undeniably shaped by her, the habits and patterns, the jokes I tell, the memories of her I have associated with the simplest of phrases, and I realise that, whether she likes it or not, I will always be the man that my mother raised.

Postscript: just in case anyone is wondering, I don't hate my mum. In fact I feel like now more than ever, I love her enough to understand so much of where she's coming from. But the problem is, I have spent a lifetime understanding who she is and why she does things, and I have never felt like that was reciprocated, so now I just do not have the energy to maintain such a one-sided relationship, where I am only loved as her child, and not as a person. I can't live my life in service of her anymore, with me putting myself last, or hiding parts of myself and ignoring the damage she has done to me so that she never has to see me as a "problem". I deserve better.

[the-corset-witch]

They always wonder how I decide. How I decide to come out, to reveal myself, and how I decide who's corrupt.

I don't.

She does; and she doesn't even know she's doing it. I watch the nightly news while making dinner, she listens while coloring. Sometimes she overhears things, and sometimes she says things. A girl locked in youth, and a man who never wants her visions to come true.

"He's getting mean."

"Who is, sweetie?"

"The man on the TV." I looked up at one of the heros giving an interview after saving a building from burning.

"How is he mean?"

"He starts the fires. I saw him do it." She arcs the crayon she holds in the air and paints the vision she had in the air. The sketchy crayon colors move with animation of the hero truly setting a building to burn, waiting, and then coming in for glory.

"That is mean." I plated up dinner, "We shouldn't put people in harms way just to be seen as a good person."

After she went to bed, I began doing some research into the hero. I didn't like acting without a full understanding of what I was doing. But finally, I decided, she was right.

It was two months later when he saved the president that I decided to step in. The president was so thankful that there was an award ceremony that I watched at the convenience store checkout.

When I decided, that evening, to go to the news station, the security guard opened the door, stepped aside four steps, and stared in the opposite direction as I approached; he didn't see me enter, the message was clear. He doesn't want any problems, no one does.

I make my way inside, all the way to the top. I tell them what I want, and they all nod.

The news comes on, and after the headlines, the pretty and sweet newscaster says: "But before we get to any of that, there's breaking news about corruption among heros; Here's Tom Anderson with more."

The cameraman gestures to me to tell me, I'm on, and I begin; "The Presidential Medal of Freedom? Or The Presidential Medal of Fire-Starting? I've brought you footage of The FireEnder actually starting and fueling the fires he claims to save you from! Please roll the clip."

On another screen facing me, and the other newscasters, the clips began playing. The truth was coming out, and that was the most important job I could provide for my people. I watched as shocked faces appeared around the newsroom before continuing after the clip ended.

The truth was, I'm not a villian at all. I have no powers, I can do nothing but this. But the little girl that happenstanced into my life? She's a hero worth me protecting, even if I'm ordinary.

In a world of supers, you are hailed as the most terrifying super villain. You rarely appear and are feared not because you are evil, or have some grand plan. It is because super heroes inevitably become corrupt. When that corruption becomes too great for the world, you clean house.

[chodzacaparodia]

It's frustrating that you can come up with the plot of an entire fic in just a few seconds, but writing it all down can take anywhere from never to forever.

[maeamian]

If you saw me agreeing with being annoyed about wasted helium in a fictional context and were like "I bet she has some more helium based anger in her life" good news LAPD fucked up a raid on a medical facility they thought was a pot farm and flat out ruined thousands of gallons of the stuff.

[yeehawpim]

[theorphicangel]

thinking about bf! sukuna struggling to apologise with words after a small argument... he's not too good in putting his feelings into words so he does the next best thing...acts of service.

Specifically through making a fruit bowl for you.

Cheesy, he knows, but it's the one of the ways he wants to make it up to you.

One second you're busy at your desk, typing away at your laptop before you feel a shadow behind you. without turning around a platter of fruits are placed next to you as well as with a glass of water. the plate is colourful with strawberries, mangos, bananas, cherries, apples, oranges, pears, kiwis and more of your favourites.

you raise a brow, some of these fruits aren't even in season right now so you wonder how in the hell Sukuna managed to get his hands on any of these.

'how did you get these?' you chew on a sliced apple.

he merely shrugs, 'top secret.'

'right....'

a silence passes between the two of you, sukuna awkwardly standing next to you. you can sense he has something to ask you before he leaves, you want to ask what is it but remain silent out of fear of pressurising him.

it's okay though because he finally gets round to it.

'are you still mad at me?'

ah there it is.

you hum, looking down at the perfectly organised array of fruit.

'mhmmm, not anymore thank you 'kuna' you allow him to lean down so you can finally place a kiss on his lips, a kiss that he has long awaited for.

'finally, thought you were never going to speak to me again.' he mumbles once he pulls away. you pat him on the cheek with a giggle, 'you did good 'kuna'

[genderqueerdykes]

the solution for taking care of "unsightly" homeless people is to house us. that is the only solution. if you can't stand the look of someone living on the sidewalk, you shouldn't stand for them being put into that situation to begin with. housing us is the only answer.

[rubenstein]

These are drawings of Mad Writing of a Survivor from a Horrid Event of a storyline for my series. What's your thought?

[iheartmonaco]

imma just send ideas at the randomest of (uk) times everr lmfaoo

texts with the grid (+ollie, if possible. im predictable i knowwww) where the drivers send a spicy pic to (male or gn) reader to distract them whilst at work? heheh

-bear anon

Bb boy I love your prompts

When You're At Work

🔸 including: Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman

🔸warnings: mature, mentions of sex

🔸Gender neutral reader

🔸 masterlist

[bizarrelittlemew]

i can't wait to be 30+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 40+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 50+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 60+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 70+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 80+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 90+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to look back on my life and know that i loved things deeply and passionately and was inspired to create and was part of communities with incredible people from all over the world brought together by the stories that touched us

[the-corset-witch]

How the Graph & Vault appears after the finished manuscript. Observations:

Not surprised to see Protag & Antag so close together as they share the majority of the book together

In the edit/rewrite in October, I want to break apart the scenes into their own notes rather than write each chapter in one note with no separation.

Having the calendar right there made figuring out small details of the plot so easy on the fly, this set up is very good, I like the workflow of it.

[thebluemallet]

Portia may not have always been the best mother, but she was the only one who noticed and brought attention to the fact that Penelope wrote terrible things about herself in Whistledown once she learned the truth.

Someone should write a fic where that is brought to Colin and Eloise's attention by someone else and they both have that "oh shit!" moment.

[mischievous-thunder]

You can't just kidnap a princess and expect him to agree with you immediately after, Wade!

[strangebiology]

Success is Dependent on Secret Information

A lot of career success depends on you and the work you put into it, as well as luck beyond your control, but sadly, it also depends on secret information, magic words, and stupid little tricks.

That's not fair. I don't like it, but we can help by sharing that secret information--which is the antidote to gate-keeping. That's why I recently wrote this in my Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress substack:

It can be really disheartening to realize that, when you thought you failed at something because you didn't do well enough, other people had the magic words. For instance, some injustices I've witnessed (that may or may not always be the case, or maybe not anymore!) include:

A good athletic score doesn't get you into a college sport--having a coach or parent talk to the college coach is mandatory

Many school-sponsored scholarships are often not tightly linked to grades, test scores, or financial need, but whether the student said the right words ("I can't afford that") to the right person (presumably some financial office person.)

Apparently, some aspects of some degrees are cheated on by most students (if that's the case, we should tell all students that it's ok to cheat on that so they don't waste their time on something that apparently wasn't important anyway, or worse, fail out just for being ethical.)

Especially related to books: Few people will mention that you can get grants! Not my agent, not my publisher, not the 1 zillion "pros and cons of trad publishing" articles out there mentioned grants (Grant eligibility is a HUGE benefit of trad publishing.) I got more money from grants than my entire book advance!

Let me know what magic words/secret knowledge you've learned, that you wish you knew sooner. Or: the widespread understanding of what information would make a field more fair?

And please share ANBIP with anyone writing, publishing, or seriously about to start writing, a nonfiction non-memoir book, especially if they're interested in the more practical side (I share more about resources and strategy than craft.)