#writing your own book

[sanguinifex]

You gotta read and watch some old books and films that aren’t 100% modern politically correct. I’m not saying you should agree with everything in them but you need to learn where genres came from to understand what those genres are doing today and where media deconstructing old tropes is coming from.

Also, more often than you might think, they’re not actually promoting bigotry so much as “didn’t consider all the implications of something” or just used words that were polite then but considered offensive now.

Kill the censor in your head.

[adharagranley-writer]

there are two moods reading something you wrote months ago:

this is garbage

i am a GODDESS

[institutewriters]

By following these steps, you can begin the process of writing your own book and turn your ideas into a finished product. IFW offers writing a book course to guide you on this journey of becoming an ace writer; also, remember to enjoy the process and keep your aim at the goal.

Read More - https://medium.com/@instituteforwritersifw/beginners-guide-to-start-writing-a-book-226aefa49757

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[gingebreadbeetle]

There’s no way Hazbin fans (more so Stans) and Viv herself genuinely believe Hazbin hotel is anything like Bojack? Where does Hazbin even take inspiration from Bojack?? Bojack horseman is such a good show, with complex thoughts and ideas expressed in its writing and characters.

Vivziepop is not a curious writer. She doesn’t care about representing people, she has a limited creative mind because she cannot understand politics nor philosophy beyond a highschool level. Her progressive ideology is built of hate for women and the fetishization of gay men. She has nothing interesting to say, nothing new to add and no substance to her works.

There are so many reasons bojack horseman works where Hazbin doesn’t, and I’m tired of pretending a ‘adult show’ that brings up ‘adult themes seriously’ is on the same level as bojack horseman.

[izzystizzys]

When the 212th collaborates with the 501st, chaos is sure to follow in their footsteps. This has been largely true of every engagement since the start of the war, in Cody’s experience. Had he even an ounce more of a rebellious streak, he might question why and whether the success rate is worth the feral instinct for mayhem his battalion and Rex’ awaken in each other - as it is, he simply fills out the after action reports and then screams into his pillow, which is hard as durasteel and doesn’t warrant the name.

Or, on some days, he steps into the training rooms to work off some nervous jitters only for his foot to catch on someone’s armoured shoulder and faceplant straight into what looks like the entirety of both battalions piled together in a massive cuddle pile.

“What”, he manages between gritted teeth, heaving himself up with one hand supported on Crys’ arm and the other planted in places that make Boil jackknife up with a strangled yelp, “the kriff is this?!”

“We’re watching the Corrie Reality Special, sir”, his own voice calls from somewhere across the room. “The 91st is passing by, so we have satellite access to the Coruscant Broadcast network for a few hours, and we couldn’t settle on a specific show -“

“- so we decided to watch them all”, Rex finishes, sheepishly, where he’s fought his way through wiggling piles, hoots and badly imitated monkey lizard noises. The thought that he shares DNA with these degenerates is enough to drive Cody to the brink of a nervous breakdown some days. “Spopcorn?”

Ah. The Corrie Reality Circuit. When Cody first heard of it, he’d thought it was a prank. Then, they were deployed to the middle of bumkriff nowhere on the edges of Midrim space edging on Outer Rim, with a connection so spotty even classified military intel only got through about half the time, and the whole idea got shelved in favour of clankers and keeping his General’s lightsaber in his General’s hand where it belonged.

Now, a gaudy, glittery monstrosity of a logo announcing a Coruscant Rotational special appears on a rigged up screen, which means one of two things: either Fox is pulling the Galaxy’s greatest long con on all of them, or he’s been murdered and replaced with an evil clone (ha!), because there are no circumstances in which he would agree to star on Coruscant Reality TV.

Cody tilts his head consideringly. Rex smiles at him sheepishly. Tilts the spopcorn bowl at him, invitingly.

“Oh, dank farrik, sit your shebs down!”, someone (Fives, probably) yells out, fed-up…ly.

Cody sits his shebs down.

“Good morning and welcome all of Coruscant to the Great Coruscant Rotational Special: Our Boys in Red Edition!”, a bright red Twi’leki man announces on the screen amidst cheerful jizz music and loud hooting from the training room. “My name is Braham Horton, and I will be your exalted host for this fine, fine late night cycle!”

“And now, gentlebeings of the metropolis, I present to you the images that have driven us all to laughter, joy, and even tears at times over these past few weeks - whodathunkit, that the CSF media project would enthrall a whole Galaxy of viewers and cause the largest recorded peaceful civil protest of all time?!”

“The sorry what now”, says Cody, suddenly thinking back to the urgent meeting General Kenobi was currently in with Generals Windu and Yoda - passing by on the Venator in orbit. “Uhm”, says Rex. Braham Horton, unfazed by the commotion he’s causing lightyears away, chatters on.

“- many hours, so we’ve compiled an introductory little best-of for you, exalted viewers! And what better best of to start off on than the hottest entry of the most explosive bombshell into the villa - please give it up for Commander Thorn and how he stole all of our hearts on Love Island!”

A garish, club-tech jingle Cody has so far only heard buzz through the walls of establishments that generally didn’t allow clones thrums through the training room, followed by what can only be described as the sort of noises spiced up banthas might make. Thorn appears on screen, more oiled up and half-naked than Cody remembers, though just as bleach-blond, hair slightly longer than regulation and smile blindingly perfect.

“I’m Commander Thorn, baseline twenty-four years humanoid - during daytime I might be the scourge of Coruscant’s criminal underworld, but at night I don’t mind playing good cop for you!” He punctuates it woth a sleazy wink and fingerblasters that have Rex honest-to-god gagging, and Cody seeing his life flash before his eyes. If Alpha-17 finds out about this…

Suddenly, Thorn’s smile drops in favour of what might almost be called a scowl on even his handsome face, and the music cuts out. “There, got your soundbyte. Can I go back now? I’m supposed to be on shift.” Indistinct, off-screen chatter and a captioned oopsie… appear in a shower of glitter. Thorn’s face does something complicated. “For HOW MANY MONTHS?!”

Cut to a montage of what Cody can only describe as beaches, oil and abs galore, Braham Horton narrates and extremely close-up shot of what Cody tries very hard not to identify as Thorn’s crotch. His own crotch, in a way. Oh no, that’s weird, stop that train of thought immediately-

“Although our favourite bombshell’s entry into the villa wasn’t without its hitches and hurdles-“, emphasized by a zoom-in on Thorn’s form in a speedo huddled away from a partying crowd of softcore-kriffing contestants on a yacht, “- as well as all know, he would soon find his place in the villa - or places, rather!”

Two crying humanoid women appear on screen, with eyeliner smudges down to their knees. A hoot goes through the room. Cody watches with a sense of impeding doom. “You slept with her after I chose to match up with you instead of Chad?! How could you!”

Thorn, still oiled up with both blasters out for the world to see, winces. “I didn’t me-“

A hysterical gasp, a camera swerve. Three more people stand by the doorway, all clutching their chests with wide eyes. A broad, green Twi’leki man raises a finger to point accusingly. “You were sleeping with them too?! I thought I was the only one!”

“Dear Force”, Cody murmurs, unable to look away from the building speeder wreck on screen. Braham Horton laughs good-naturedly at his misery. “Ah, good times! And who could forget the all-out brawl of the following matching night, where a record number of every single other contestant attempted to physically fight the others for the right to match up with Commander Thorn! Including a somehow returned Chad, who nearly won thanks to the element of surprise. I wish we could show the footage, but then we’d have to slap several warnings on it and probably still get taken off the air.”

“I didn’t know Corries kriffed like that!”, someone (Fives, let’s be honest, it was definitely Fives) calls out into the room, receiving snickers and a well-aimed pillow to the throat for his trouble. He goes down with a choking scream.

“Someone who was less impressed by the hot’n bothered beach weather was Commander Thire, who found himself Less than Impressed by his co-contestants inability to keep it in their pants on Too Hot To Handle!”

Thire’s face, identical to Thorn’s in every way except the ones that matter, appears on screen. His black hair is cut in a cropped mohawk, arms folded over a button-up he’s carefully pieced together with… safety pins? Where are the buttons on it?

“These people are pathological and pathetic and I will spend not a second longer on this farce of an attempt at ‘entertainment show’”, says Thire, air-quotes so sharp they could cut stone. His scowl might be permanently etched into his face, Cody can’t tell. “Unlike literally everyone else, I have an actual job to do. Now move.”

A brief pause, in which cheerful jizz music plays over what is obviously a producer begging off-camera, followed by an eyeroll so hard it hurts Cody’s brain to watch. Thire throws his hands into the air in defeat, marching off into the sea behind him still fully clothed.

“When they didn’t find him until the last episode, I’ll admit, I thought he’d died too!”, Braham Horton cuts in cheerfully. “But would you look at his little lonely island lair - now that’s a fulfilled man, and too many coconuts for my taste! We’ve had to blur his hands out as he discovered the cameras just moments before these holos were taken, unfortunately. And, dear viewer, who could forget this exit-interview for the ages!”

A considerably more clothed Thire appears on screen, eyeing a microphone like he’s about to use it to stab out his own eyes. The reporter clears their throat in audible anxiety. “C-commander, how would you describe your reality experience in one word?”

“Demeaning”, says Thire, blandly.

Silence.

“Um, o-okay”, squeaks the reporter.

“Would you like some more words?”, asks a dead-eyed Thire.

“No, um, I think - I think we’re alright.”

“Because I have many words. Mostly for whoever the *bleep* thought this was a *bleep* good idea, and *bleeeeeeee-*”

“We’ve had to censor most of the Commander’s on-screen appearance, dear viewer, for your sensibilities”, says Braham Horton, eternally and painfully cheerful. “And speaking of sensibilities, who could forget Commander Stone honouring his name in several challenges on ‘I’m A Holostar - Get Me Out Of Here!’”

Soulful violin music fills the gym, overlaid with images of a bald vod Cody surmises must be Stone. Stone stares stonily into the void, glass of bright green something raised to his lips and already half-empty.

“Memorably, he downed a pint of acklay urine within seconds-“

Horrified screams are followed by an image of Stone chewing, yet another thousand-klick stare.

“- or when he ate Tauntaun anus -“

Rex doubles over gagging, and Cody slowly puts his handful of Spopcorn back down.

“- of course the ten minute worm-bath challenge cannot go unmentioned -“

“FORCE PLEASE NO!”, screams someone (Echo) tearfully. Commander Stone, buried to the chin in wiggling orange worms, looks less impressed.

“ - and who could forget his encounter with a horde of ginntho spiders and nests of vexis snakes!”

A remote goes sailing past the screen, missing by a mile, as images of Stone with his whole arm stuck in various boxes fly past. Someone is retching. It might be Cody.

“We would show the infamous butchery challenge wherein the Commander found himself drenched in nexu guts and sandworm brains, but once again, this is family friendly programming and we are not allowed. Nevertheless, a win well-deserved. And now, please welcome the one, the only, the awe-inspiring, the unbelievable: Marshall Commander Fox!”

Another Force-awful jingle, big, blocky letters, and Cody chokes on his own spit when Fox’s scowling face appears on screen. He’s thinner, greyer and angrier than the last time they saw eachother in person. Only the last one is really a surprise.

“I am neither naked nor afraid”, says Fox, arms crossed firmly, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “I am, however, quickly losing my patience. Explain to me again the point of spending my valuable time undressing in the middle of bum-*bleep* nowhere on the Midrim instead of doing my job as the head of planetary security in the middle of a Galaxy-wide war?”

Several beats of silence follow. Fox grows less impressed with each. Cody knows that look well. Usually, it precedes handcuffs and a cold sonic blast to the face.

“Um… you signed a contract?”, says a producer’s voice uncertainly off-screen. Fox barks out a harsh laugh. “I’m legally classified as military property, my signature holds less weight than if I’d had one of the Guard’s massiffs shit on that contract for me.”

“Ouch!”, calls Crys.

“Gettim!”, adds Longshot.

“But… don’t you sign off military documents all the time for the Senate?”, sputters the producer.

Fox smiles with far to many teeth. It’s also a look Cody knows far too well, and even lightyears away it has a shudder going down his spine.

“Really makes you think about the technicalities of that definitely-not-slave-army, doesn’t it?”, he says, dryly.

“Although considerably less naked and afraid than all other contestants, Commander Fox left us with many memorable moments - such as when he saved the entire crew from an angry Acklay!”

Most of the next holovid is blurred out, though Cody can (unfortunately) guess at the why and how. So can most everyone else, judging by the collective groan.

“Down, boy”, says Fox, flatly, to a hissing Acklay twice his size. It rears its fanged head, and a shudder goes through the room. Fox simply crosses his arms and nails the beast with an unimpressed look. “You are making a fool of both of us. Cut it out.”

Chastised, the Acklay blinks at him, slowly lowering itself back down with a confused hiss.

“No kriffing wonder all the Corrie shinies are such hardasses”, mutters Rex, whom Cody is hard pressed to agree with. “I came from a tube and that look gave me daddy issues.”

“Yes, dear viewer, who could forget these heart-warming moments of good, quality television!”, sighs Braham Horton, dreamily. “Not Coruscant anytime soon, that’s for sure! We are now entering the twentieth rotation of the sit-in protest of a petition to allow the Commanders of the Coruscant Guard to compete on Dancing With The Planets, Coruscant Rotational’s epic dance competition!”

“Dear bum-kriffing Force”, whispers Rex, wide-eyed and awe-struck. “Does Fox know about this?!”

Cody, who’s already dialing the kriffer’s comm-code, wipes a singular tear from his eye. “Not a clue, but kriff, am I going to enjoy telling him.”

[triglycercule]

rereading horrortale in excitement that it's being updated again and i am reminded that horror is actually quite silly!!

"cheh heh heh heh~" STOP BEING CUTE YOU DERANGED MANIAC!!!! anyways rereading the comic and refreshing my memory actually showed me that horror sans and pap actually do have a banterly brotherly relationship. idk maybe i forgot about that and only remembered the CORE scene

i can't wait for more horror in book 2. he needs more screentime. how about we just make all of book 2 horror sans. jk. anyways all art by sour apple studios

[thebarontheabyss]

Hey patrons! 💗

So, what did you all think of the short stories collection?

Did any of them stand out to you? What worked or didn’t? Is there else anything you’d love to see more of in the future :D

Also, exciting news: I've begun working on Chapter 5—we’re moving forward!

After the new chapter's update, I'll dedicate the following to overhauling some of the game's romance aspects, sort of a 3.0 update.

Thanks for reading. As always, your feedback means the world to me—please let me know what you think!

Catch you all soon in the Abyss!

[aroaceleovaldez]

Between TSATS and WOTTG at this point it seems like Rick has forgotten that Hypnos and Morpheus are actually two separate gods

Possibly one of the most amusing things about this is we DO have canon acknowledgement of Hypnos and Morpheus explicitly being separate gods, including even official art of Morpheus specifically.

...the thing is though, that this book in particular is ghostwritten.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[nepttunnee]

idk i felt like it

[cashweasel]

Some of you really need to get a grip and stop with this hypercritical bullshit on pb and associates I’m sooooo sick of it.

“The new candlelight project sounds just like the elementalists, nothing about this concept is original :/“ aren’t you the same ppl begging for a fantasy story and the old choices back?

[witchhazelevesque]

Wait… I get that Venus’s warning to Reyna about how “no demigod shall heal your heart” hit her hard because it meant she and Jason wouldn’t be together, but it also didn’t completely rule out A LOT of her people because like… so many of them weren’t demigods, they were legacies.

And okay, yeah, maybe that could be explained but, no not really because in BoO, when Reyna tells Piper about it, Piper says: “There is someone out there for you, maybe it’s not a demigod. Maybe it’s a mortal or… or I don’t know. But when it’s meant to happen, it will.” (492)

Like… the narrative literally forgets that legacies as a concept existed??

And no, it’s not that Piper isn’t aware of that or was distracted by Leo’s death because: “Piper kept busy helping Reyna and Annabeth coordinate between the Greeks and Romans. To Piper's surprise, the other two girls valued her skills as a go-between to smooth over any conflicts.” (489)

Now, Piper gets the short end of the stick when it comes to being written with nuance (hello one off lines about her best friendship with Hazel with talking, crying and sword fighting in HoH), but we’re meant to assume that she’s doing more than is actually written, and she’d have to be aware of these dynamics between demigods and legacies, that SHOULD have been a significant element here since all of Camp Half-Blood are demigods while a large, if unknown, portion of Camp Jupiter are legacies.

But no, the conflicts are like: “Piper did manage to return some Roman helmets that mysteriously made their way into the camp store. She also kept a fight from breaking out between the children of Mars and the children of Ares over the best way to kill a hydra.” (489)

Like.

The narrative itself goes out of its way to make a one to one comparison between the camps in terms of how directly descended from the gods the camper are. With the same god’s two aspects and everything! Ignoring the other descendants of Mars!

But actually!! No, in the same book they do bring up legacies! Nico asks Reyna: “So… is your whole family descended from Bellona? I thought you and Hylla were her daughters, not legacies.” (284)

So why? Is it so inconsistent? (This is a rhetorical question, I know why but feel free to add more)

And all he had to do was change the word ‘demigod’ to ‘hero’. At least for Reyna’s situation.

TLDR: Legacies? Wasted potential. Reyna? Victim of inconsistent writing, vol 132.

[institutewriters]

By following these steps, you can begin the process of writing your own book and turn your ideas into a finished product. IFW offers writing a book course to guide you on this journey of becoming an ace writer; also, remember to enjoy the process and keep your aim at the goal. 

Read More - https://medium.com/@instituteforwritersifw/beginners-guide-to-start-writing-a-book-226aefa49757

[spitblaze]

Listen. Listen to me. Having privilege in one form or another, even situational and conditional privilege, doesn't de facto make you a bad person. A transmasc that applies to a job with their chosen name, whether or not that transmasc passes otherwise, will have privilege over a transfem applying to that same job, because of societal sexism. That doesn't suddenly mean that transmasc is a violent asshole putting transfems at risk, it just means that as a transmasc you gotta be more cognizant of how you navigate the world. It doesn't mean you don't experience oppression. It doesn't even mean you don't experience oppression unique to being transmasc! What it DOES mean is that whether you like it or not, your relationship to women and non-men are inherently different than they would be if you were a woman. And you're gonna have to reckon with that. You can't stop women you don't know from viewing you as a potential threat, but you can use what privilege you may have if you're stealth or pass to advocate for women, and trans women, and other trans men, and to. Y'know. Check yourself once in a while and make sure you're not falling into the toxic masculinity and patriarchal mindset so many of us have already suffered at the hands of.

[itskenickie]

i need all of this in a fic or in a movie