#okay i know why this one was saved to drafts but i think yall deserve to be subjected to it

[megamindsupremacy]

Just had the realization that a time traveling Batkid could meet pre-Robin Batman, figure out Bruce’s age, and, in surprise, blurt out “he hasn’t even gotten Dick yet!”

[normalgirlnextdoor]

Alpha 141! X Omega reader??

Hii! I don't usually post my writing, but I had this idea and wrote up a draft/demo of and idea i have. Let me know what yall think and if you want to see it continued! Reblog if you like it please! Also I didn't really edit it, sorry lol!

You tapped away on your mechanical keyboard, the clicky sounds saving you from the quiet boredom that came with running your base's front desk. Running it of course was your punishment for.. Well lets just say when tensions get high you struggle to keep your mouth shut. And it just had to be today that you get dished this punishment. The day one-four-one was assigned to come in, you know to check the place out, see if there was a ‘missfit’ to take on their team. 

You see, you unfortunately work at a special “military”' base, military used lightly as it's not really used for the government to have soldiers willing to fight, but actually to protect the government from lethal beings that could be useful military weapons. You and everyone else, including your current captain, have very dark reasons for why you’re in here. The only way you specifically could get out of the hellish base was if your true mates, yes mates with an “S”, came for you. Legally the government cannot keep anyone from their true mates, but considering you definitely had four, you had a snowball chance in hell of them coming to you. 

Letting out a loud dramatic sigh you looked over your writing. Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Rubbing your eyes you go back to typing the latest mission report; only to be interrupted by the large military doors swinging open with a slam. In came five different, clearly not impressed people. Four out of the five are men, built like true military muscle heads, while the fifth was very fit female. Taking a deep breath you slip into profession mode, choosing to address the women instead of the four intimidating alpha males.

“Hello! Can I please get your names, ids, and the reason why you are here?”  Your voice was overly sweet, sweeter than it usually was.

“I’m Kate Laswell with one-four-one. John-”  she tossed her head to the side.

“Oh, of course you are,” You dropped the cute assistant act, pulling back into a neutral look. Blowing air through your nose you started to type a quick check in for the special operation group one-four-one. Laswell gaped at you.

“Okay,” You flicked your head up rather fast, causing your dog tags to clink with your military issued scent blocking collar.

“You guys are good,I’m Bite risk by the way,” you inform them that you yourself are on the team they will be montering, before telling them where to go. Laswell smiled at you, tipping her head in thanks as she strutted down the hall. One-four-one on the other hand, took their time analyzing you as they passed by. As the last and largest one, the one with the warm looking skullmask, passed by you rolled your eyes, going back to your mission report. 

“Sir, I’m aware that you want to see your daughter and I am deeply empathetic to what you're going through right now. But unless you show me your Id, I won't be able to even let you into the security system for public visit days, which as I said are: Saturdays, Sundays and specific holidays,” your absolutely fed up. Your team including one-four-one, who are currently coming down the hall to collect you, could even tell just by the stressed undertone of your voice.

“I’m not going to show some barracks bunny my id! I want to see my daughter! Now let me in! I served in world war two! I don’t deserve this disturbing treatment from some omega floozy! You have no idea what it means to work in the military! You're just some whore-” A loud crash.  Your captain quickly ran into the lobby, quickly ripping you off the disrespectful older man. Thankfully she was quick enough to prevent him from leaving with a deep bite scar. Your eyes glowed red as you tried to throw her off, but she kept her hold on you, even as you dug your elongated claws into what skin you could reach. 

“Fang! Get him out of here!” She commanded one of your team mates. As he was being escorted out your captain shoved your face into the crook of her neck, letting out a strong calming scent. You drank it up, forcing your feral omega down. Meanwhile task force one-four-one silently watched. Genuinely surprised how quick things escalated in only the first three hours of their two week observation. 

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Price said, his thick British accent quickly catching your omegas' attention, red eyes looking over to the entire team. Interesting indeed you thought. 

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[creacherkeeper]

writer ask game- tagged by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly !! thank you!!!

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

horrible question to start out with for me cause i dont think i really have one???? i tend to not be as ship-focused as many people in fandom, and also unfortunately am the type of person to get REALLY into things and then many times my feelings dont stay super strong over time. so some Honorary Mentions are shules from psych cause thats probably my oldest remaining ship, ineffable husbands from good omens cause that was my first gay ship, and clintasha from marvel because thats the oldest ship i still have waves of strong feelings about

How many works do you have on AO3?

95, 8 of those being more than 1 chapter/a collection. i also deleted a good handful of fics from older fandoms when i rejoined ao3 in 2015 (i was an early adopter but then left for a while), as well as having a decent amount of fics on ff.net and a fandom specific site from Back In The Day

What’s your total AO3 word count?

just with the fics on there now, 348k. total fics i've written across sites/before deleting was probably closer to 400k. if we're including original fiction / fully rewritten drafts of the same books, i'm definitely over a million

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

hello my old heart (3209 - she ra, touched starved catra 1)

wherever is your heart (1700 - she ra, touched starved catra 2)

you or your memory (1262 - she ra, catradora ptsd exploration)

the memories and scars (1115 - fullmetal alchemist, parental royai and elric brothers fluff)

time take us (773 - she ra, adora chronic pain au)

also shoutout to this untitled good omens ficlet that got 17.5k on tumblr but did not do nearly as well in the ao3 collection lmao

Do you reply to comments, why or why not?

yes, i always do!!! idk it makes me happy to acknowledge the kind things people say ;; and frequently they say stuff in their comments that i want to scream back about or give explanations/behind the scenes for. also i've made friends this way!!!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

im not super a person to leave off with angsty endings, so in recent memory probably this catra cuts her hair fic that takes place after save the cat. or maybe this fic that is almost entirely claudia thedragonprince whump cause i was really Going TF Through It at the time and had to take it out on someone

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

i tend to go hurt/comfort or bittersweet a lot, but probably the like. just absolute Happiest is heartlines on your hand which was the last in the touch starved catra series and was just. the sappiest sap to ever sap

Do you write crossovers?

the only crossover i've ever done was an agents of shield/air bud crack fic that we DONT talk about. i got fucking bullied into doing it okay

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not that much honestly? i got a few kind of mean comments on the touch starved catra #1 but also like. that fic got so popular there were bound to be a few. nothing else to my memory?? if there were a few on older stuff i probably just dont remember it at this point lmao

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i really dont lmao. besides not writing a ton of shippy stuff in general, i dont tend to write anything too Spicy. probably the closest i ever got was one short scene in this ineffable husbands 5 + 1 kissing fic that did not do as well as i thought it deserved tbh hahahaha

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of????? yall would tell me right lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i wrote a little ficlet about elena aos celebrating a colombian holiday with the team and a colombian friend translated it for their family! but i believe that is it. that ficlet isnt even on ao3 i tried to find it but was unable to. i dont believe anything has been translated for public consumption

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i don't think so? but i have gotten fanfic for my aos adoption au series!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i pretty much write things in one sitting or not at all lmao. i dont tend to take on a lot of series and stick to one shots as well. unless its over 8k i probably wrote it in one day. even the ones longer than that usually took less than a week from start to publication (for example, paladin!aelwyn fic is 15k and took 4 days of actual writing over less than a week to write, edit, and publish)

What are your writing strengths?

i feel like im best at dialogue and tend to get a lot of compliments on in-character voices. dialogue is my favorite to write lmao. i also think im good at describing spacing and movements, because i tend to think like. almost exclusively verbally and like?? physically?? if that makes sense?? when i write i picture almost nothing but i can "feel" what the character is doing. like i imagine making the gestures and everything but dont necessarily see anything as a picture in my head

(fun fact: for actual play fic i actually uh. picture the players acting it out, not the characters in the world. lmao whoops. like the first draft of it at least is 'what does this look/sound like at the table' and then i make it into a fic)

What are your writing weaknesses?

coming from the last question, definitely description, again because i picture almost nothing when i write. i have a VERY VERY hard time thinking with visuals. even when im coming up with description, i just THINK WORDS that would describe something, not picture it. so a lot of time i have to base my description on something or im just like. pulling descriptive words out of my ass with no basis. and the visual of it doesnt always make sense to other people. the other thing i struggle a lot with is action scenes, rip

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think there's a time and a place and a right way to do it. i think with anything, it's not a "write what you know" but "know what you write". if youre writing someone multilingual, understand how multilingual people actually talk and use those languages. i think the closest i've gotten is "writing signs" for amaya from dragon prince. obviously thats not exactly the same, but for those fics i went back and forth between translating what she was saying, giving the exact signs without grammar, or just describing the movement of the signs. i dont know that i did it perfectly, but i did my best and learned from it. everything in those fics was knowledge i gained from my ASL classes in college (mostly taught by Deaf teachers)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

technically digimon when i was like 7 years old lmao but first published fic was for avatar in 2007 on ff

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

it definitely changes depending on what i've written recently, but i'm really proud of paladin!aelwyn fic and am still really happy with the catradora ptsd exploration and this self-indulgent ineffable husbands mutual pining fic, but i also will say that writing humor is not always easy for me so whenever i feel like i pulled it off i am very proud of that hahaha

-

tagging @agentcalliope @floralprintshark @beatricexbenedick @marshmallsy @frenchibi @rizguks @strangetorpedos @labelleofbelfastcity

[jpolish-writes-queer-ya-fantasy]

5 Things to do while Writing Your First Novel

Over on my tumblr, the wonderful invisible-galaxies asked:

"What are you best tips for writing a book? I just started writing one, so I would love some advice."

Well, my dear. Feel free to follow up here with more specific questions about your own writing process, but my first instincts (after mulling this question over since you sent it in) are as follows:

1. Congratulate yourself -- yes, already.

We're so ingrained to only celebrate ourselves, congratulate ourselves, when we have a finished product; when we have something polished and pretty and glossy; when we have something complete, and when we have extra money in our pockets from it.

But you have decided to write a book. You have started writing a book. You have, in other words, started creating something that will let you unleash an entire world onto the page, onto the screen; you have decided to bring life to an entire universe.

That deserves celebration; you deserve celebration. Because you've made a brave decision, a brave start; and because if you don't pause to celebrate yourself along the way, the journey's more likely to be overly self-loathing and lonely.

2. Write about... your writing.

Do you know what kind of novel writer you are?

Maybe you can sit down and bang out the first draft of a short story or a school essay or a project report for work, one shot, start to finish. It's linear and it's chronologically-oriented and sure, it needs editing, but it has a beginning, middle, and an end, right away.

Awesome! But that might not be the kind of novel writer you are.

Let yourself experiment -- let yourself write whatever scenes or character sketches are coming to your mind, even if you're not sure where they fit into your overall narrative. Because maybe you'll write a lot of your novel out of order (I sure did), and then have to stitch it back together/rewrite to iron things out. There's nothing wrong with that!

There's also nothing wrong with those of us who outline endlessly before even writing down the first chapter, or whose brains just work in order, getting each scene to flow into the next linearly, from the start.

Whatever your process is, let yourself discover it. Write about yourself as a writer. Ask yourself:

How do I tend to develop my characters into living, breathing people?

For me, does plot tend to come first? Characters? How do they feed off of each other?

Do I have to know everything about a scene before I write it?

Etc. Knowing these things about yourself as a writer can be such a huge help.

3. Share what you can, if Tip 2 indicates it would be helpful (and maybe try it anyway).

Grab a glass of iced tea and swing your legs off the fire escape with a friend, and talk things through with them.

Last summer, I don't know how many hours I spent in the ocean with one of my best friends, floating over waves and exchanging our novel ideas, bits and pieces of information and revelations about singing dragons, teenage superheroes, detention centers, and zine writers. I can't ever describe how central that was to my process.

These conversations weren't just conversations. When I went away to speak at conferences or to see friends, I would print his novel drafts and bring them with me, reading on the bus well past the point of motion sickness (because his writing is just that brilliant). And he would do the same for me.

Writing communities -- even if they're small -- are absolutely invaluable. Sometimes, we can find them online; sometimes, we can find them in school; sometimes, we can find them at free writing workshops in our communities.

We tend to think of writing as a solitary process, and that's so true, but it can also be a recipe for unhelpful ruminating: a lot of us need idea bouncing buddies, cheerleaders, and critique partners who will be honest but gentle when something just isn't working.

So maybe it's just me, but I can't write without the people I love, and I love the people I write with. Period.

4. Map it out.

Even if you're not a planner -- even if you write scene-by-randomly-ordered scene -- keeping yourself organized can help so, so much. I always keep documents of notes on my character descriptions, their likes and dislikes, their relationships with each other.

I have lists of "twenty personal things that readers will never know about x character."

I have fan fictions of my own characters where -- since I'm writing fantasy -- I place them in today's world, without magic, in a given situation, and learn more about them through how they'd react.

I have little maps of when this happens, when that happens. As x is happening to y character, why is a happening to b character? How does this all affect c character and d plotline? (Index cards or post-its and colored pens are super helpful for this sort of thing.)

I have drawings -- and my students will be the first to snort, here, because I cannot draw to save my life -- mapping out where different things in my book happen, and when.

I didn't do most of these things while I was initially drafting; I did most of them while I was editing and rewriting. If any of these things sound helpful, though, don't be me: try to do these kinds of exercises and explorations with yourself while you're drafting, because I know how much more streamlined and generative my process would have been, sooner, if I had.

5. Read, Read, Read, Read. Oh yeah, and write.

What genre are you writing? Young adult fantasy? Adult contemporary? Middle grade historical fiction? If you don't know, that's okay -- find out! Book research is fun. (And let me know if yall want a post about different genres, or have questions about them.)

And then, read. Read it all. All the things your library has in your genre, and all the things your library has out of your genre. I count watching certain television -- really well-written stuff, and even not-so-well-written stuff -- as reading when I'm preparing to write, because great images and stories can inspire me, and terrible images and stories can also inspire me (to make something better, to never have that kind of plot hole, to never kill the lesbian).

I know sometimes when we're writing, it's hard for us to read.

We want to keep our own voice, and we want to be, quite frankly, not intimidated by what's out there. But part of the journey you're beginning -- writing your own book -- is trying to rewire the competition-thinking that makes us intimidated into the collaborative-thinking that makes us inspired by others' beautiful work. It can be hard, and might even take longer than it does to draft your book -- but it's a worth-while process to start off on.

And, of course, while you're reading... write. It's okay if it's out of order, and it's okay if it's outlined down to the finest detail. Just... write.

If you're the kind of person that likes internal deadlines, set them. If you need an accountability buddy to help make sure you stay on track, get one.

And when you accomplish a mini-goal -- like answering a series of deep questions about your main character or finishing that first chapter and moving onto the second or finishing that random scene that doesn't fit in the plot yet but hey, you wrote it -- reward yourself!

Because -- and now we're looping up to Tip 1 again -- you are on an awesome journey, and you deserve to treat yourself awesomely.