#writing vent

[to-myalphonse]

Being a black writer in a fandom...(this is about past fandoms I was in as a kid btw)

Being a black writer in a fandom is like seeing some musty ass bitch saying, your favorite characters would not like you because you don't fit the world's example of beauty.

Being a black writer is being told that you don't fit in Fantasy stories.

Being a black writer is being told that your culture is beautiful but not you.

Being a black writer is knowing your favorite characters would take time to get to know you most of them at least. (Yes im looking at ya'll who have problematic faves.

Being black in a fandom is like writing x black reader or black! female reader stories with popular fictional characters and you being shit on or gaining less traction because of it.

Black! Reader or black! male or fem reader stories are important for me and others readers and writers. It helps us bring joy to others who want to read or see other black! Reader stories to feel inclucded.

If ya'll got problems with that, follow the golden rule and keep your unpleasent thoughts to yourself.

[vividdreamer]

"yes i know having villains and/or morally grey characters in a story is important – nay, crucial — but I think this character is too *lists the qualities and traits of a villain/morally grey character* and anyone who likes this character should seek help immediately!!!"

[caxycreations]

Went on this mini-rant in a discord already but posting it here cause I'm starting to feel the weight of it more.

I feel like my decision to write a furry novel has actively limited my potential reader base. People see "furry" and think "Oh, I'm not a furry, I won't like that".

But furry is a circumstance of the story, not the focus of it. And maybe it has more impact than I'm seeing, maybe there's deeper reason to turn it down for being furry, but it kind of hurts to see people showing genuine interest in similar stories and tropes and genres and then ignoring mine entirely because they see that the characters are anthropomorphic animals.

I don't know, I'm sure there's other reasons, but I've been outright told by people they've turned away from it because it's furry and they're not furries, as if not being a furry means you are incapable of enjoying the themes, the topics, the story itself. Like the main character being an anthropomorphic canine means you won't enjoy any aspect of it, or won't find anything interesting in it.

It hurts a little more every time someone openly turns it down entirely based on "Well it's a furry thing, right? No thanks." As if that's all there is to it...

As if that's it's defining feature...

As if nothing else could possibly be good, or interesting, or captivating about the story simply because it's about furry characters.

[greater-grief]

have you seen my dad?

excuse me, i don't mean to pester,

but have you seen him?

he's tall, maybe 5'11?

he has blue eyes like mine, striking but sad.

he's kind, far too kind for this world.

he doesn't laugh often but when he does it's so full of happiness that everything wrong disappears.

his cologne, i don't know the name, but i know the smell as i've smelt it my whole life.

have you seen him?

have you seen my dad, my wonderful dad?

you have?

oh.

i'm sorry. my brain gets confused.

of course you've seen him.

he was tall, 5'11 and a half.

he had blue eyes, just like mine, striking but sad.

he was kind, far too kind for this world.

and that's why he had to leave.

there he is.

my wonderful dad.

now nothing more than a headstone.

[lara-prism-light]

I feel extremely unmotivated for anything, I don't feel motivated to do anything, and I especially feel unmotivated to write.

[alex-wolfdragon]

Not gonna lie, as an author, it's so disheartening when your favorite work is your readers' least favorite.

In my case, it's a fanfic, but still. I have the most planned for this one lil story and there's hardly any interest for it, and that kinda hurts. Heh, maybe it'll gain more traction the more desperate people are to read fics. I dunno.

Sorry for the vent, it's just frustrating.

[lazui-l]

Sorry this is kind of a weird desperate vent post but please tell me I’m not the only one who will just read a book/watch a show/play a game/witness whatever form of media and start hyperfixiating on it because of how enjoyable it was

and then you walk over to the creative workshop part of your brain and you sit down and go “I want to make a story just as good as the stories I’ve been hyperfixiating on. I want to make something that will effect the reader just like how (insert inspiration) affected me” so you start brainstorming a plot or a character or a setting

But then you just stop and look at your ideas and think to yourself “I’ll never be as great as (insert certain artist/author who’s inspired your work) I’ll never have the positive emotional impact on someone like they had on me” and you just start hating everything you make and get swallowed by this endless pit of “I’m never gonna make anything great enough” and that makes you so miserable because you genuinely love creating stories and creating characters but your anxiety and constant need for validation drains the joy you once experienced and you feel like an unfinished painting on fire.

Like maybe this is a very universal experience with writers but I’ve never really seen anyone talk about what it’s like to have certain pieces of fiction you adore and bullying yourself into believing you could never make something as great. Has anyone else gone through this/are going through this??? Anyone have any advice or experiences or anything??

[mylittle-escapingdreams]

Nothing Really Matters

Fandom: Marvel Shipping: Tony x GN!reader WC: 797 Note: I came back to tumblr only to find a distinct lack of Tony fluff. I love smut as much as the next person but fluff... is necessary sometimes. This is more of a vent thing for me - again.

The water slowly washed over their feet, the cold pulling them back to reality every time. There was little like this, and yet there was nothing that could make it better. The beach could be lonely and drowned in purple and blue just as the sky painted, a soft glow on their skin from the sun that had started falling behind the horizon and yet something was amiss. Something still left them feeling like there was a hole in their chest, a complete void that somehow managed to suck every bit of happiness out of it. Medication, therapy, yoga, exercise. They'd tried it all. Judging from this one could guess that the issue was a depressive episode, it'd pass. But it never does, does it? It comes back crashing just like the waves do. They disappear and gather whatever strength they have, slowly washing up on the shore only to cover their feet again.

Tony was just arriving in one of his cars, blasting ACDC as loud as he could handle it. He hadn't a care in the world which car it was, what time of day. He remembered this was their favorite spot to be when everything got a bit too much, when life was hard. He'd known hardships, anxiety, depression too. He couldn't begin to understand what they were going through really, since he'd never experienced it first hand, but knowing that it ate them up gave him a pain in his chest not even having his reactor ripped out could mimic. As he slowly walked down a small path with dirt and stones in his shorts and some button up he threw on, he took off his glasses to see the love of his life in a clearer light. The sky behind them gave them an ethereal look, even more so than usual. Something straight out of a book, he'd say. But none of his words will do much to keep those waves from crashing, and he knows it. His steps carried him closer to his love and he stopped beside them, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Tony, I think I'm not meant to be here," they said softly, their gaze just locked to the floor. They were biting on their cheeks, keeping the tears at bay for sure. Tony breathed in slowly, knowing there was more coming so he didn't speak; "It hurts. All the time. It fucking sucks, and nothing works. I've been going through the fucking motions every day. I take my meds, I do the work, I do therapy. And still it fucking hurts. And for what?" They complained, their voice filling with anger. Anger for themselves, the world, the reason they are this way. They wanted to scream, shout, cry about how much it hurt but there was so little that did. Nothing was really helpful here. Tony moved his eyes over to properly give their face a glance, keeping his eyes on them, too. Despite the tears welling in their eyes, despite their bloody lip from biting it hard, and despite the messy and greasy hair nothing could beat the beauty of his person. He could do little but remind them over and over that they are, in fact, meant to be here with him. Listen, help them through it.

"Listen sweetheart," he started, taking a small pause just to contemplate what exactly he was gonna say, "There are few things in this universe I can't explain. Hell, I can explain a shitload of things. And if I could explain and make it all better I'd do it in a heartbeat and you know it." he gently grabbed their hand as he spoke, wanting to slowly approach the matter of touch. Sometimes it's too much, sometimes it's necessary. And he'd learned that it was important to scope it out beforehand, "You are the most important thing in the world to me. I'd burn it all for you."

Tony ran his finger over the ring on their finger. A small token of his appreciation, nothing super expensive because he knew their favorite band and gem. The words they'd promised eachother invisible, but he knew they were engraved on the inside of the ring. Their eyes met his now, the tears falling down their face. It wasn't often that they cried.

"Time and time again I'll let you know I won't let you go. We'll weather this storm. And every single one after it too, you know?" Tony said again, getting a little closer to them. They nodded slightly, their breath shaky. With a quick movement Tony pulled them into an embrace and just held them as they sobbed. If this was what they needed, he'd do this. If they needed him to burn the world, he would, too.

[alex-a-fans]

I have so many ideas for art/fanfiction, so much time. Yet no skill. Any tips? Criticism? It can be anon too.

[papasbaseball]

.

I'm literally backtracking so hard on this chapter bc it just didn't feel right and now I'm just like🧍‍♀️okay but what do I do then?

[whumpthefuck]

Video Description:

A video by the tiktok user authorchrispcompton

A man opens his wallet to show nothing is inside, with text over him that reads ‘Writing about a really rich character when you only have like $20 in your bank account’. The view then switches to his computer screen open to a word document that just reads ‘Her mansion had two bedrooms AND a whole kitchen’.

End of Video description

—

Literally though, sometimes it feels like I’m writing high fantasy when writing a rich character. Every so often it’ll hit that there are real life living breathing people who are just as rich if not richer than the character I am writing.

Like they literally live a life of luxuries I will (statistically speaking) will never know, I won’t even get a whiff of the amount of money these people spend in a single day let alone their entire lives!! Insanity.

Anyways eat the rich. Greed should be punished not rewarded or glorified and glorifying the obscenely rich will lead to further pain and suffering of the poor.

[piko-rose]

My most recent Windows 11 update just removed WordPad and a good portion of all my writing I've been working on for a few months is all gone now.

I fucking hate my life.

I'm fucking done with writing.

[blorbocedes]

ok so initially I wanted the max/GP fic to be 3 chapters in a classic three act story however it's stressing me out 😃 and it's supposed to be a fic for fun....... so I can break it to 4.5 small tiny little chapters with no thematic cohesion 🥹 but at least it'll be out literally like. right now and I wouldn't have to worry ab it... but maybe I should challenge myself to stick to the original plan waaaahhhh idk

[gakriele-lvs-blog]

This Fic is the source of way too many headaches I'm willing to admit.

Originally, it wasn't even meant to be a multichapter story, just an in-the-moment one-shot I wrote in a week and had no intentions of continuing. A few ideas around but nothing croncret. Until a little exchange with a random guy in Discord convinced me to give it a try, even if as a short fic.

My first task was to write the end, no joke, which is a 3-page-long-badly-written scene that surprisingly helped me get a sense of what this story should be about and how to get there.

When I started my priority was to focus on developing a consistent style, a mixture between first-person and Third-person, which slowly became clear was going to be much harder than anticipated, and pairing that with my perfectionism and overall lack of time to write at the time, had a quite difficult time writing each chapter. Can't say I'm proud of the results up to this point while also not that disappointed. I could have done better.

And another issue was the formatting, I wasn't planning in dedicating this much time to each chapter, maybe around 3k each one, but I got carried away and now each is minimum 6 to 8k, which is too much for my liking.

Without mentioning my original intention to separate each Arc into different Fics (some multi-chapters others one-shots) to be part of a Series, but upon comparing myself with other similar fics got insecure and indecisive and now I'm not sure if I should go for that route or not.

Is stupid I know but I can't stop overthinking this.

Anyway, the next chapter for this is... Technically finished, it just needs a lot of polish. So please a little bit more patience would be appreciated. Thank you and sorry for the trouble. If you have anything to ask feel free to do so.

[greater-grief]

pieces of you

you may have left me long ago.

our love left to sit on a shelf and grow dusty,

but no matter how desperately i try, i can't forget you.

your shadow haunts my room,

the stain of your messy departure still forever staining the carpet,

pieces of what was left of us prick my fingers as i attempt to move on.

feverishly i try to sweep, scrub, mop, anything to make it all go away. to make it all brand new.

untouched.

like it never happened.

but no amount of soap will cleanse me.