#you quickly get writing advice that is actually useful and you get some disinfectant for the brain rot

[detectivenyx]

the 19th century: our publishing houses have so much work to do! A whole 4,500 books were submitted for publishing this year :( the invention of mass production makes things so hard.

modern publishing houses: hooh, slow day today. we've only got 6000 books to decide on the yay or nay to go to publish. better still keep an eye on the 2700 self-published novels though

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

[marvelslut16]

Stick and poke

Prompt number: 7 “yes I did, what about it?”

Fandom: IT

Paring: Eddie Kaspbrak x reader (aged up to 17 or 18)

Rating: T

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking. Mentions underage smoking. Mentions teens giving each other stick and pokes- I beg of you not to try at home! Swearing.

A/N: First time writing Eddie! I feel like all I write for now are Marvel and IT. Borderline punk and/or rebellious Eddie. 

You and the rest of the losers are sitting in a circle on the floor of your underground clubhouse in the barrens playing a game of truth or dare. In the middle of the circle sits a large decanter of some brown alcohol you can’t be bothered to remember the name of, each time someone calls chicken they have to take a swig of the drink. As the game progresses, the liquid starts to steadily decrease, most of the time due to Richie’s questions. 

The losers not caring if they get drunk, each one lied to their parents and said they were spending the night at one of the others houses. So none of them have to worry about stumbling home drunk in the middle of the night, instead all of them staying overnight at the clubhouse. 

“Dare,” you smirk confidently at your friend with coke bottle glasses. So far you’re the only person to pick dare with the trashmouth, the rest choosing truth and most using chickens.  

“(Y/N/N), I dare you to” Richie smiles mischievously, you regret letting the trashmouth in on your feelings for his best friend. “To kiss Eds.”

“What?” Eddie looks panicked and starts hyperventilating. He reaches for his inhaler, quickly taking two puss from it. “That’s disgusting! Do you know how many diseases you can get from a single kiss?”

Eddie continues to ramble on about how unsanitary it is and you eye the decanter, which Richie stole from his father’s alcohol cabinet, in front of you. You’ve had the least amount of alcohol so far this game and the only one not to chicken with Richie, you aren’t about to start now. You roll your eyes and turn to your left, where Eddie’s sitting beside you, you grab him by the face and pull him in for a quick peck. 

Richie’s eyes grow considerably larger behind his glasses, Bev’s cigarette almost falls from her mouth as her jaw goes slack, Ben’s giggling at what just happened, Stan’s slapping a five into Bill’s hand losing a long standing bet between the two, Mike is whooping at you two. And poor Eddie is gaping at you, clearly flustered and looking for words. 

“You kissed me!” you aren’t sure if it’s a question or an exclamation. What surprises you though, is that he doesn’t go for his inhaler again, nor does he reach into his fanny pack for one of his many pills. 

“Yes I did, what about it?” you aren’t sure how you want him to respond to that, but you know it’s not the silence that you’re met with. 

A few hours later you’re sitting in folding chairs in one corner of the clubhouse with Richie, giving him a stick and poke as he tells you about the latest prank he pulled at school. It’s a prank you witnessed, but that doesn’t seem to register in his slightly fuzzy tipsy brain. By now the few shots you had to endure our pretty much out of your system, feeling and abating completely sober unlike the rest. 

“Quit moving!” you scold Richie for what feels like the hundredth time, he’s moving his hands while telling his story. Which isn’t helpful since you're trying to do his stick and poke of a pac-man ghost on his inner wrist, and he keeps almost screwing you up. Eddie’s eyes are on you as you finally wipe Richie’s arm clean, done with the little tattoo.   

“You want one Eddie spaghetti?” you hold up the needle you just used on Richie. You reach into the fanny pack wrapped securely around Eddie’s waist, which causes the poor boy to grow flustered again, pulling a disinfecting wipe out of it to wipe the needle clean. After that you use Bev’s lighter, running the flame over the needle to make sure it’s sterilized. 

“N-no, he stutters out, eyes focused on the way your lips form your words. “My mom would kill me.”

“She doesn’t need to find out about it Eddie,” you wave the needle teasingly in front of his face. He’s as sober as you, possibly even more than you, so you trust his judgement. If he had anymore than two shots all those hours ago you never would have asked. “You just need to hide it until you move out in a couple months.”

“Okay!” you’re surprised when he agrees, so is Richie who is staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. 

“What do you want and where do you want it?” you ask, quickly adding the next sentence when you notice Richie about to speak. “Beep beep Richie.”

“I’m not really sure,” Eddie plays with the zipper on his fanny pack, taking a seat across from you in the chair Richie recently abandoned. “But it has to be somewhere I can hide it.”

“Hmmm,” you start mentally ticking off places you can’t do the tattoo, your mind coming up with multiple scenarios on Mrs. Kaspbrak accidentally finding the tattoo. “I could do the base of your neck, like where the collar of your shirt goes. Or I could do your side, below your ribs.”

“How about my side,” it isn’t a question so much as a statement. “I want to be able to see it.”

“Any ideas on what you want, or do I get to surprise you?” Eddie fiddles with the bottom of his shirt and you wonder if he’s going to back out. 

“Surprise me,” Eddie nods, confident in his decision. 

“Do a penis!” Richie hollers, taking a swig of the alcohol left in the decanter. 

“Shut the fuck up Richie,” Eddie snaps and you giggle at the two. 

“You need to take your shirt off Eds,” you both blush at your words, causing Richie to wolf whistle. 

“Look at the Edster stripping for (Y/N)!” Richie hollers a little too loud, not that you’re worried anyone will hear you in the middle of nowhere. 

“Beep beep Richie!” Bev calls back, leaning her head on Ben’s shoulder. 

You scoot your chair beside Eddie’s, facing his right side you put one leg going behind his chair and the other towards the front, sitting in a v-like shape. You grab another wipe from Eddie’s fanny pack, cleaning the area of skin below his ribcage, Eddie’s right hand shoots out and grabs your knee, squeezing his eyes tight before you even have the chance to dip the needle in the ink. 

“As much as I enjoy your hand on my knee,” you admit. “It’s kinda in the way.”

You pry his right hand off of your skin, placing it on the back of your chair. He reaches his left hand across his body so he’s once again holding onto your right knee. You let him stay in the position, knowing he needs it mentall, and he’s managed to not twist his side and mess up your tattooing area. 

You decide to do a larger tattoo for Eddie than you did Richie, go big or go home. Right? You contemplated doing a small little fanny pack, but you didn’t want Eddie to take your teasing as an insult. Instead you decide on a basic mountain range, three overlapping triangles, and a sun poking out from behind them, a simple circle. A simple serene tattoo that Eddie can look at and calm down to when he has a panic attack.

As you actually start to tattoo his side, his grip on your knee tightens. You don’t mind though, you’re enjoying the weight and warmth his hand provides. Eddie’s eyes are on you the entire time, committing your concentration face to memory. He tries not to shiver every time your fingers run over his exposed skin, a warm fuzzy feeling growing within him. 

You’re focusing so intently that you don’t notice when Eddie becomes slightly more adventurous and lets his hand drift up to your thigh. Finally done with the tattoo you wipe it clean a final time, leaning back to admire your work. It’s your best tattoo yet, if you do say so yourself. 

“Remember to clean it everyday,” you aren’t sure why you’re giving Eddie, of all people, hygiene advice. He isn’t Richie, he has common sense. “And if it gets infected tell your mom right away, don’t try to hide it out of fear of getting in trouble. I’ll take all the blame Eddie, say I made you get it because I wanted to practice.”

Eddie squeezes your thigh as he compliments your work, sending a bolt of electricity from your thigh to your heart. Before you know it his lips are crashing into yours, this kiss far better than the one earlier in the night. The thumping of the blood in your ears drowns out the whoops and hollers from your friends. All you can focus on is Eddie; his soft lips on yours, the softness of his hair beneath your fingers, and the feeling of his hand moving from your thigh to your hip- his free hand also going to your hip, fingers digging in. 

When you pull apart for air, he uses his grip on your hips to pull you onto his lap. Now straddling him, you comb your finger through his dark locks with blonde tips. He begged and begged Mrs. Kaspbrak to bleach them and she kept saying no. So finally Richie and Bev bought bleach from the store, and did it themselves. Needless to say she wasn’t happy, but after two doctor's appointments, with two different doctors, she finally concluded that Eddie wasn’t going to randomly fall over and die from the bleach. 

Stan slaps a hand over Richie’s mouth to keep him from ruining the moment going on in front of the group. He’ll let Richie make fun of the two afterwards, but he doesn’t want his friends to get this close to finally being together, just to have Richie’s teasing make the both of you chicken out and ignore each other. He’s not sure he can handle all that pining again, the entirety of the losers club isn’t sure they can handle that again. Your hands slide down from Eddie’s hair to his still bare shoulders, pulling him in for another searing kiss. 

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​ @mrs-malfoy-always​

[dutyrisen]

&&. announcing his grace, ( elias sävelsalo ), the  ( 38 ) year old ( duke  ) of ( lapland ). he is often confused with ( chad michael murray ). some say that he is ( vague & moralistic ), but he is actually ( amiable & resilient ).  

UPDATE:

since returning to finland with vanamo, elias tried to find balance in their new normal. he received a far warmer welcome than she did and used it to shield her as much as he could

he took zhenya’s advice. he reclaimed his title, became a much more prominent figure. this meant occasionally clashing in ideology with his wife.

he’s still a bit confused though, still suffers from ptsd, but it’s managed better. 

members who are newer and don’t know him, details under the cut !

i really hate writing intros aha! anyway hi, i’m lea. some of you might remember me. 

elias was always an easy child, because his parents were smart, humble and sincere people. 

the attitude his family imbibed in him, especially in the coldest most frigid and bleak seeming months in lapland, is that things always come to pass; good humour can minimise most problems, and eventually you’ll see their depth is not as much as you felt it was — so that was who elias became. he always had a way of making everything seem easy. an unassuming charisma that would have anyone follow him.

this was why the road to following the footsteps of his parents was not very difficult. elias was well-liked, admired. people genuinely enjoyed being in his company. he never sought out the limelight, but always ended up becoming the life of the party.

then he met... her.  vanamo intrigued him from the very beginning, he could never tell whether she was interested, or disdainful on any given subject, and even as he began to decode her responses he started to realise how different she was to anyone he’d ever met. her intelligence struck him. the way she had been raised struck him. it challenged his devices and pushed them further. where his eyes initially would find hers out of curiosity, they started to search for them just because, and then be unable to look away.

once they became inseparable, that was it. the day he proposed was the best day of his life. it felt full, later. a career, being proud of his partner who’d made a name for herself in parliament, a son he adored — until the day they found out what the finnish royal family intended to do. 

making the right choice had never been harder, especially knowing that luukas would be going to bed without his father for the forseeable future. but elias couldn’t back down from what was expected of him — it wasn’t just his beliefs, his love for his home that drove him, it was also to protect his father’s legacy. to show luukas someday what courage and sacrifice meant.

elias descended into the frontlines in karelia despite vanamo’s distaste for it. he told himself that he’d make it up to her when this was over. he told himself there were people that needed his help via his military service. he never returned. 

fast forward 2 years, he wakes up to the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant and the steady beep of a monitor, in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people. when he realises the staff are speaking russian, he panics, thinking he’s been caught and will be charged a prisoner of war. 

the first hurdle to get over is the language barrier, which the hospital solves quickly by having someone explain things to him in both finnish and english. then it is to process that he’s lost 2 years, the heavy realisation that his son has grown for 2 years without elias there to see it. 

it’s really not fun finding out your country isn’t really even a country anymore. that not only did you lose a war, but that your wife has been profiting from the situation, yes it is a harsh designation, but what else is he to believe? why else would someone conspire with the russians?

needless to say, she is now blocked on twitter and every other platform known to man. news of his awakening was met with a flurry of activity once his mother was notified, but he opted not to accept visitors while he complied with physical therapy to try and regain his strength. he also has some residual ptsd.

he’s decided to make a snap decision to fly to where everyone else is, even though he’s still grappling with the fact that he’s essentially lost everything he thought he had, and isn’t sure who he is anymore. he wants to see his son, and he’s not here to play

tl;dr finnish dude, back from the dead to find wife pushed their sovereignty off a cliff, sound the alarm, he’s confused

that’s all, this is probably missing a lot of things, but  please plot with me!

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter VIII: Richie begins to understand his daughter a bit more and reaches out for help.

There were a lot of things Richie liked about parenthood.

He liked seeing the world through his children’s eyes and experiencing things he had long dismissed as if for the first time (watching Lydia watch Star Wars was better than watching it for the first time as a kid). He liked the structure that came with parenting. It put his anxiety in check and, like the weighted blanket Eddie had given him on their first Christmas, calmed and comforted him.

He liked making his children laugh—loved it, in fact. Making Lydia and Tess laugh was better than making an audience in a thousand-seat theater laugh. And he liked laughing with his children, and was particularly fond of their strange, nonsensical jokes.

He liked the fact that though people complained about how it hard it was to raise kids today, what with all the rampant technology and kids growing up too fast, he was raising his girls in a time and place where having two dads wasn’t that weird. Sure, most kids they knew didn’t have same-sex parents but very few people actually gave a shit about it. It warmed Richie’s heart.

Finally, he liked waking up with the knowledge that he truly wasn’t alone anymore, that there were people who loved him unconditionally.

Of course, there were things he didn’t like about parenthood. He wasn’t crazy about punishments, though he was reluctant to just let Eddie handle those for fear of their kids determining that one parent was the nice one versus the mean one. He also didn’t like extracurricular activities, but he had the sneaking suspicion Tess wouldn’t be interested in as many as her sister was.

He hated germs and the knowledge that if one kid coughed, the entire house was under quarantine. When he found himself wiping down all the doorknobs with disinfectant wipes, he realized all his teasing of Eddie was unfounded. He had turned into Mrs. K. Gross.

He also had a very low tolerance for other parents. Most of them were entitled shitheads who raised snotty-nosed idiots that ran around without any boundaries or consequences. Eddie always teased him for preening so obviously whenever they were complimented for how polite and well-mannered their daughters were in public. Whatever, a victory is a victory.

And finally, Richie definitely did not like how little time parenting left for him and Eddie. He wasn’t stupid, he knew having a family would put their romantic life on the back burner a bit but sometimes, it got rough. Sometimes he just wanted a date night without worrying about the kids with their babysitter but it wasn’t like he could shut off his brain. And yeah, when Bev and Ben flew down, spur of the moment, to visit Mike and his new girlfriend in the Florida Keys, he was a little bit jealous. But then Lydia and Tess had asked for help with building a blanket fort in the living room and he realized, this isn’t so bad.

So no, Richie didn’t regret having kids with Eddie. He loved his daughters and couldn’t imagine life without them. And perhaps it was because of what happened in Derry that made Richie so determined that nothing would threaten his girls.

And if that meant hours of research and more long nights reading than he had done while in college, then so be it. If it meant he woke up every morning exhausted because he had been up half the night digging through forums and links and hints on the internet, whatever. The only thing that irked him about it was the worried looks Eddie sometimes shot his way. But who cares? Tess needed answers.

And of course, the name scratched on the piece of paper the nurse had given him gave no real leads. Whoever this was had no social media presence, not even a LinkedIn. Was this guy a fucking 90-year-old? Even they had Facebooks, at least.

Eddie turned over in bed and groaning, blinking slowly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he grumbled, squinting against the light of Richie’s iPad which, to be fair, was on the lowest setting.

“Reading,” Richie replied. “Go back to sleep.”

“You need to go to sleep to begin with,” Eddie yawned. “What fucking time is it?

Richie glanced at the time at the top right corner of the screen and winced.

“1:32,” he admitted.

“What the fuck,” Eddie said, reaching for his iPad. “That’s enough.”

“Eds, no, wait—”

“It’ll be there when you use it tomorrow morning,” Eddie replied, taking the iPad out of his hands and closing the cover. He placed it on the nightstand and wrapped his arm around Richie’s middle, causing Richie to wince once again. He had definitely gained some weight but stress-eating in the middle of the night will do that to a middle-aged man.

“Come on, lay down,” Eddie said softly. “Relax.”

“I can’t.”

Eddie sighed and maneuvered his head onto Richie’s chest.

“Tess has been fine,” he admitted gently. “No seizures, no bad dreams, no mentioning of anything out of our past for over a week. You can relax for one night, Rich.”

Richie swallowed and gazed up at the ceiling. He knew Eddie could easily feel his heart beating rapidly and he wondered, not for the first time, just how much he frustrated his husband. Suddenly, Eddie turned his head and kissed Richie’s chest, right above his heart. Richie looked down at him and was suddenly struck with the thought of how amazing it was to be laying here, in this house, with Eddie in his arms.

“Come on, love,” Eddie whispered, “try to get some rest with me, hm?”

Richie nodded and laid back.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Whatever you say, Eds.”

Pulling up to the preschool in the early afternoon always filled Richie with relief. Not for the first time, he reflected on how grateful he was that in their school district, kindergarten was also only a half-day. He had no idea how he would handle Tess going into first grade and having both girls gone all fucking day, the house empty and silent. What the fuck was he gonna do with his time?

Richie parked the car and stepped out, his hands in his pockets. He could write more, he guessed, maybe even take Eddie’s advice and try his hand at essays (“You could be the next David Sedaris, Rich,” Eddie had insisted one day. Richie thought he was being a bit too kind but whatever).

Maybe he’d start hanging out with those stay-at-home moms who spend their free time drinking white wine, going to Zumba, and annoying their friends with pyramid schemes. He could charm his way into that group, couldn’t he?

Richie opened the door to the preschool and was greeted by the sound of children playing, a few whining, one crying, and teachers trying to maintain a semblance of order. He greeted one or two that he knew, along with saying hi to a couple kids from the neighborhood before spotting Tess, pouting in a seat.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said happily. “What’s going on?”

She said nothing, just looked down at her hands as one teacher, Miss Lisa, approached the two of them.

“Do you want to tell your dad what color you got today?” she asked Tess pointedly.

Richie frowned. The fucking color system. Tess always had green next to her name but from the look on her face plus the tone of Miss Lisa’s voice, he knew things were bad.

“What color did you get?” he asked gently.

Tess merely looked away and wrapped her arms around her knees. He turned toward the teacher.

“Yellow,” she replied, “for not listening and talking back.”

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“That doesn’t sound like you, Tess,” he said. He crouched down to her level. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you listen?” She remained silent, still avoiding her father’s gaze. “Tess, look at me.”

She glanced over and bit her lip before looking back down at her lap. She shrugged once. Richie sighed and straightened.

“Go get your jacket and backpack. We’ll talk about this at home,” he said. She took off for her cubby. He turned back to the teacher. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “all kids have days like this. It was just surprising from Tess, that’s all.”

Richie nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to her,” he offered lamely.

Miss Lisa nodded and then took a step closer to Richie, lowering her voice.

“Does Tess talk about her imaginary friend at home?” she asked.

Richie froze, and he briefly wondered if she could tell that the rictus smile on his face was false.

“Sometimes,” he breathed.

She nodded.

“That’s what the issue was today,” she said. “She was too busy playing with her imaginary friend to listen and then talked back when we tried to get her to focus. She’s quite protective of this friend.”

“Right.”

She must’ve thought Richie was upset because she quickly explained, “Most of the kids here have imaginary friends, it’s totally normal. It’s just that when they use them as an excuse to break the rules, we have an issue.”

“Of course,” Richie said blankly.

Miss Lisa smiled reassuringly as Tess arrived with her jacket and backpack and a pout still on her face.

“Come on, kiddo,” Richie said, leaning toward to take her hand. “Say goodbye and apologize.”

“Bye, Miss Lisa,” she muttered, looking down at her shoes. “Sorry.”

“Thank you, Tess,” the teacher replied gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Richie and Tess walked out of the preschool silently.

He sat at the kitchen table beside his daughter. She was in a much better mood now that she was home and eating apple slices coated in peanut butter. Richie took a moment to memorize how content she looked before opening his mouth.

“Listen, kiddo, I gotta ask, why weren’t you paying attention in school today?”

Tess shrugged and munched on another slice.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that,” he continued. “And you’re such a good student. You know better.”

She frowned briefly and nodded. Richie wiped a hand over his face as he sighed. Fuck, this was harder than he thought.

“Your job at school is to listen to the teachers,” he explained, feeling like the world’s biggest hypocrite, positive that when he tells this story to his parents, they’ll laugh for hours. “You know that. And you don’t talk back. That’s not like you at all.”

“I know,” Tess mumbled, sounding very near tears and sending a stab through Richie’s heart.

“Baby, you’re not in trouble,” he said quickly. “You just...learned a lesson today, right?”

She nodded and sniffed.

“Oh, come here,” he murmured, immediately taking her into his arms and pulling her onto his lap. He kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “It’s okay, kiddo. You had an off day. It happens to everyone. Even me.”

“Yeah?” she asked, muffled from hiding her face in his chest.

“Yeah,” Richie insisted. “I have them all the time.”

She turned her head and rested it against her father’s heart. Richie tightened his arms around her and allowed himself some time to just enjoy. But he had to find out more.

“Tess, baby,” he said softly, “do you have an imaginary friend?”

She hesitated every so slightly before nodded.

“She’s real,” she insisted.

“I know,” Richie replied, swallowing. “What’s her name.”

“Abracadabra,” she admitted after a moment’s pause. Richie frowned. Sounded like a regular imaginary friend’s name. Maybe this had nothing to do with...everything else.

“Sounds cool,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Do you guys play together a lot?”

“No, only sometimes.”

“But you guys played today?”

“Yeah,” Tess admitted, wiping at her nose. “She only stayed for a little.”

“What do you guys like to play?”

Tess shrugged.

“She just shows me stuff.”

Richie tightened his grip on his daughter.

“Like what?” he whispered.

“My shine.”

“Shine? What’s that?”

Tess sat back in her father’s lap and gazed up at him, confused.

“My magic,” she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Your magic that...helps you see things? Like me and Daddy as little boys?” Richie asked slowly.

She nodded.

“What does she show you?”

Tess hesitated, then tilted her head to the side, and raised one hand to rest along her father’s face. All at once, the air rushed out of Richie’s lungs, as if he was in a vacuum. He was no longer in their kitchen, but everywhere at once, flashes of memories and images swirling past his eyes like trees when you speed down the highway.

He caught glimpses of himself as a child, Eddie with his broken arm, Bowers shouting at him in the arcade, stepping on stage and bombing, Edding kissing Myra in City Hall, Neibolt collapsing, Eddie pale and coughing up blood, screams and tears and laughter, Tess as a baby—before he had ever known her, Lydia pushing her sister to the ground in frustration, Richie and Eddie arguing—unaware that both girls could hear them, the Losers overwhelming Tess with their hugs and kisses when they first met her, Richie floating, the MRI machine. All of it streamed past in a dizzying smear of color and sound until, like water in a drain, it circled into a box and abruptly, a hand came down and slammed it shut.

Richie blinked. He was back in his kitchen with his daughter in his arms, her hands folded delicately in her lap.

He gasped, his chest heaving, tears running down his face. He gazed down, slack-jawed, at his daughter, who suddenly looked so much older and wiser beyond her four years.

“She shows me how to stop it,” she said plainly.

“Mikey, I need your help,” Richie said quickly, barely able to catch his breath.

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” Mike responded just as quickly.

“I’m fine, we’re all fine,” Richie replied. “I just need your help in doing some research.”

Mike hesitated. Richie bit his lip and tightened his grip on the phone.

“Is this about Tess?” Mike finally asked.

“Yeah.”

“Richie, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mike admitted softly. “I mean, I’ve been doing some thinking and maybe Eddie’s right. Maybe this is all crazy.”

“It’s not, though,” Richie said firmly. “It’s not because I fucking saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“Everything,” he blurted out. “Her ability to see things that have happened fucking years ago. I saw it. She showed me.”

“How?” Mike asked and Richie could just picture the cautiously curious look on his face.

“She fucking put her hand on my face and, I don’t know, transferred it,” he said, realizing quickly how insane he sounded. “I’m telling you the truth.”

Mike was silent once again but Richie didn’t have time for it.

“I need your help finding the girl in the articles you sent me,” he continued. “They protected her identity but I need to find her.”

“Richie, how the hell am I supposed to—”

“I don’t know, but that’s what you do, right? Research,” Richie reminded him.

Mike sighed.

“And what are you gonna do if I find her real name and info?” he asked tentatively.

“Talk to her,” Richie said. “I’m not gonna show up at her house but maybe I could at least email her or something.”

“Rich, I think you’re working yourself up a bit,” Mike said gently.

“No shit I am,” Richie exclaimed. “Mikey, this is real. And I need your help. Please. For my daughter’s sake.”

“Oh, for fuck...” Mike groaned. “Why’d you have to go and say that?”

“Please.”

“Alright, alright,” Mike sighed. “I’ll do some digging but I make no guarantees.”

“Yes, thank you so much, man. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rich.”

Richie jumped when he heard the front door open and close and both girls rush to greet Eddie with squeals of “Daddy!” He turned back to the stove and began stirring the pasta for no apparent reason. Stay calm.

Eddie walked into the kitchen, loosening his tie and smiled.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, stepping up to Richie to kiss him on the cheek, “how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Richie answered quickly. “You?”

“Tired, but what else is new,” Eddie said. “The girls have a good day?”

“Yeah, fine,” Richie lied. The water in the pot suddenly boiled over, splashing onto his hand. He hissed and snatched his hand back.

“Oh, Rich,” Eddie sighed, grasping his wrist and rushing him to the sink and running cool water over Richie’s hand.

“I’m fine,” Richie said, wincing. “Lower the heat on the stove, would ya?”

Eddie nodded and reluctantly let go of Richie’s hand to lower the burner.

“Do you want some ice?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine. Not a big deal,” Richie said quickly, turning off the water.

“Rich, I think you should hold some ice on it,” Eddie insisted, gazing at the angry burn on his hand.

“I said I’m fine,” Richie repeated, drying his hand on a dishtowel and trying not to wince at the pain.

Eddie gazed at him, a hurt look on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “You seem jumpy. Did something happen? Something with Tess?”

“Nothing happened,” Richie lied again. “I’m just tired and headachey.”

“Okay,” Eddie said slowly. He turned towards the cabinet where they kept the first aid kit and took out a bottle of ibuprofen. He poured two in his hand and handed them to Richie. “Take this for your hand and your headache. I’m gonna go take a shower before dinner, alright?”

“Fine,” Richie said, swallowing the pills dry. He turned away as Eddie walked out of the kitchen.

Richie hated lying to Eddie. He also didn’t think he was particularly good at it, which was quite funny considering he had lied all throughout his career and most of his adulthood. You’d think he’d have this down perfectly but now, lying to Eddie’s face, it sucked. He didn’t mention what Tess had showed him and probably wouldn’t have discussed her behavior at preschool but they were somehow raising two oddly honest children and she blurted it out at dinner.

“How was school today, girls?” Eddie asked as he served them both.

“Okay,” Lydia said, more interested in her food than anything else.

“I got yellow today,” Tess admitted sadly.

Richie flinched as he watched Eddie try to decipher just what on earth she meant by that cryptic statement before he remembered.

“Oh,” he said, mildly confused, “why’s that, sweetheart? You’re always on green.”

Tess shrugged and looked down at her plate of spaghetti sourly.

“Had some trouble listening today,” Richie said quickly. “I talked to her already.”

“I see,” Eddie said, nodding. “Did the teachers and Papa explain why it’s important to pay attention?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“I always pay attention,” Lydia pointed out.

“I know you do,” Eddie replied before glancing back at his youngest. “You okay, Tess?”

She nodded and gazed up at her father as if wanting to say more.

“I think she’s just embarrassed,” Richie said suddenly.

Eddie frowned but dropped the subject as Tess began eating. Richie relaxed, guilt nevertheless rising in his throat.

Later that night, as they laid side by side in bed, Richie wondered if he should just tell everything to Eddie—about Tess’s imaginary friend, the visions he saw, asking Mike for help. What’s the big deal? The worst he could say was that he was crazy...again.

Suddenly, Eddie reached for his hand and held it gently in the dark.

“How’s the burn?” he asked softly.

“Fine,” Richie said blankly, having completely forgotten about it.

Eddie brought his hand to his lips and kissed it gently in the general area of the burn before trailing kisses up Richie’s arm in an exaggerated imitation of Gomez Addams. Normally, Richie would laugh, but this time, he just pulled it out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Not now,” he sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him and just knew they probably looked ever sadder than usual.

“What’s going on, Rich?” Eddie implored. “You’ve been weird all evening.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Richie lied again. “I just got a lot of things on my mind.”

“So tell me about them,” Eddie asked, rolling onto his side to fully face his husband. “That’s what spouses are supposed to do. Share issues.”

“You do that with Myra?” Richie snapped, horrified even as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Eddie tensed and stared at him, shock written plainly on his face.

“Fuck you, Richie Tozier,” Eddie said after a moment’s pause. “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is but fuck you. I haven’t done shit to you.”

He rolled over onto his side, away from Richie, and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders. Richie clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, wondering just what the fuck was his problem.

The email wasn’t very long.

I can’t find the girl from all those studies. They did a solid job protecting her identity. But I did find more about the guy she mentioned as her mentor a couple times in the articles. It is the same name that nurse gave you. I recognized it from a story an old-timer once told me back in Derry. I did some digging and found out that he works in a hospice in New Hampshire. The number’s below. I hope this helps.

Richie typed the number into his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He took a deep breath and put his phone down. He turned his gaze to the laptop screen, Mike’s email staring back at him.

If he called, he could possibly get the answers he needed for Tess. Or he could literally be opening Pandora’s box, if the vision she had showed him had any truth to it. He dropped his face into his hands and groaned and before he could second-guess himself, he picked up the phone and called the number.

Richie’s stomach was ice as it rang several times and he was about to hang up when a cheery voice answered, thanking him for calling the hospice and asking where to direct his call. Richie licked his lips and opened his mouth.

“Dan Torrance, please,” Richie said.

[whimsical-ness]

Oh, Baby! | 03

◇ Link to Masterlist

◇ Sehun series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

◇ Genre: ‘Life As We Know It’ AU, Fluff (involving babies!), Slight Angst

◇ Summary: You and Sehun have always maintained your mutual dislike for one another. But what happens when an unexpected incident leaves the two of you in charge of a baby, together?

◇ Word Count: 2.8k

“Okay. We need to make a schedule,” you announced, spreading out a large chart onto the floor in front of Sehun.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Look, we both work. And we can’t leave Yuna home alone, obviously. And before you say to hire a baby-sitter,” you interjected, seeing Sehun open his mouth to speak, “we can, but not every single day, and certainly not on the weekends. Yuna needs to know what it’s like to have parents, at least.”

Sehun sighed. “Fine. I need to work tomorrow.”

“So do I,” you replied. 

You gazed at eachother, arms crossed. Waiting for the other to give in.

“We both know who’s work is more important,” said Sehun slowly. You cleared your throat. “Importance isn’t the point—”

“You work from home half of the time, don’t lie to me,” cut Sehun.

Darn.

It was true. You worked for a family friend’s business, handling the accounts and the finances. And all your work could basically be done from anywhere, as long as you had internet access and a computer.

Sehun, on the other hand, worked as an assistant manager at a large multinational company. Which meant he definitely had to be in at work every single day.

The man did have a point. Annoyingly.

You bit your lip. “Alright, I’ll stay tomorrow. But we need to properly write this out. See, I’ve drawn up a table and everything.”

Sehun burst out laughing. “You’re crazy if you think this is going to work. I can’t stay home, you know that. You need to find a baby-sitter for the days you have to work, and the rest of the time it’s going to have to be you, darling.”

You made a face. “Don’t call me that. And fine, if I have to take all the responsibility for most the week, the weekends are going to be all you. It’s only fair.”

Sehun scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ll help, obviously, but there’s no way I’m staying home every weekend.”

“Every other weekend,” you said firmly. “We have to make this fair. And right now it’s still incredibly unfair to me.”

You argued for a further 20 minutes until you were interrupted by Yuna crying.

“What is it?” you called, abandoning the argument and rushing to see what was wrong. Yuna was looking extremely uncomfortable from where she was was sitting on her play mat, her nose scrunched up.

You crouched down next to her, but recoiled as soon as a repugnant smell filled your senses.

“Oh. I think she...finally pooped,” you said, grimacing as you stood back up. Sehun made a disgusted face. “God, that smells gross,” he said, covering his nose. 

You gingerly picked Yuna up, holding her at arm's length before placing her on her diaper changing table. “Come here, Sehun. I am so not doing this by myself,” you called, wrinkling your nose.

Sehun reluctantly hovered behind you. 

“Go on then,” he said. 

You turned to stare at him. “What, why me? Because I’m the girl?”

Sehun approached Yuna uncertainly. “I really do not want to do this.”  His hands hesitated above Yuna’s diaper. Then he started to try and pull it off.

“What are you doing?” you sighed. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” he hissed. “It’s not a bra I’m taking off a chick, it’s a diaper I’m taking off a baby. Is there a box I can read or something?”

“It’s not rocket science,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You see those tabs? Undo them.”

Sehun did as you said, immediately jumping back once he was done. He retched, and you hit him the arm, simultaneously gagging.  “Don’t do that,” you croaked. “You’re going to make me throw up!”

Sehun put his hand over his mouth and nose. “What do I do?”

“Clean her up,” you squeaked. “Quickly, Sehun! It’s getting in her toes—”

“Okay, okay! Give me the baby wipes—”

You pulled out wipe after wipe, handing them to Sehun as he wrinkled his nose and got to work. Poor Yuna squirmed, kicking her legs at him. 

And then the doorbell rang. 

Sehun scrammed to open the door, while you were left muttering not so nice curses at him. “I hate you!” you called loudly. “Just so you know!”

You peered down at Yuna, still trying not to throw up. “Let’s get you cleaned up, little one.”

5 minutes later Yuna was in a brand new diaper and was satisfactorily clean. Sehun walked into the nursery to declare that some of the neighbors had arrived with food. 

“Tell them I’ll be right there,” you said, handing Yuna to him. Sehun wrinkled his nose as his eyes scanned your face. 

“What?” you snapped. “Yuna’s perfect, no thanks to you. Coward.”

Sehun swallowed. “Um, right. I’m..gonna go.”

You cleaned up the nursery and made sure your hands were immaculate and poop-free. And then you took a deep breath and left the room, wondering how on earth you were going to deal with all the neighbors.

“Hello everyone,” you said brightly, plastering a smile onto your face. 

They turned to you, their smiles warm, but then a few of them began to laugh.

You turned, wide eyed, to Sehun. “What? What is it?” Sehun was trying his hardest not to laugh either. 

“Um. You have shit on your face.”

“You are the absolute worst,” you hissed at Sehun, once everyone was gone. Sehun was still laughing.

“I tried to tell you! But you just made me leave,” he said, gasping for breath. “Fuck, you should have seen the look on your face when you realized it. I should’ve taken a picture.”

You crossed your arms. “Very funny. I feel like I have to soak my face in disinfectant or something.”

Sehun grinned, bouncing Yuna on his lap. “Good going, sweetie,” he said to her. “You can say when you’re older that you’ve successfully thrown poop at someone’s face.”

Yuna giggled as Sehun smiled at her, clapping her little hands. Your eyes softened. 

“The neighbors all had some great advice huh?” you said. Sehun looked at you questioningly. “Most of that went over my head. All that stuff about the right baby food and discounts on diapers?”

You sighed. “You know, we could do with that information, seeing as how we’re completely clueless. But I was talking about the baby sitter.”

Sehun nodded, putting Yuna down onto her playmat. “Oh yeah. I think we should call her. If all of them are recommending her, she must be good, right?”

“Hmm,” you replied. “We can talk to her about what days she can do, if not everyday.”

“She’s probably a retired old lady. I bet she’ll be able to watch Yuna for us every day. And then our problem will be solved,” said Sehun cheerfully.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. “Yeah. That would be quite helpful.”

Except, she turned out not to be a retired old lady at all.

When she arrived the next day and Sehun opened up the door for her, he almost choked.

Because this baby sitter definitely did not look like your conventional idea of a baby sitter. For one thing, she was so young. And she was gorgeous.

“Hello,” she said brightly, while Sehun’s ears went red. “I’m Hanna, it’s nice to meet you!”

You nudged Sehun in the arm to make him stop staring and smiled warmly at Hanna. “Hey! Thanks so much for coming on such short notice. But we’re really desperate.”

Hanna nodded, smiling back. “It’s not a problem! Where’s the little one?”

Sehun cleared his throat and immediately went inside to bring Yuna out. You nearly rolled your eyes at his sudden change in attitude.

“So, Hanna,” you started. “If you don’t mind my asking, how is it that you’re a baby sitter? Seeing as you’re so young...” you broke off, awkward. 

Hanna laughed airily. “I get that question a lot. I’m actually just a college student on a gap year who’s looking to make some extra cash. And I love kids, so this is the perfect job!”

She broke off when she saw Yuna. “Oh my gosh! She’s precious!” she gushed, as Sehun smiled and gave Yuna to her. 

Yuna blinked with her round wide eyes, and then smiled, as Hanna cooed and bounced her.

“Wow,” you said in awe. “You really are as good as our neighbors mentioned. I’ve never seen her warm up to anyone in an instant like that.”

Hanna smiled modestly. “It’s really nothing.”

“You seem like such a genuine and warm person,” said Sehun earnestly. “Yuna already loves you. And from what I’ve heard, babies have the truest judgement of character.”

There was silence for a moment as you stared at Sehun and Hanna blinked bewilderedly. “Thank you,” she said finally, laughing awkwardly.

Sehun smirked.

You nudged him in the arm again. Could he be any less obvious?

He went on like that for the next half hour, shameless flirting while Hanna grew increasingly flustered and pink, and while you furiously tried to get the conversation back on track.

When she left, you slammed the door shut and glared at Sehun. “You’re such a creep, Sehun. Now she won’t even want to work here.”

Sehun laughed. “Are you kidding? She was flattered. We’re definitely hiring her, by the way.”

“Why?” you fumed. “Just so that you can ogle at her all the time and show off your ‘daddy’ skills? I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on,” Sehun protested. “You saw how great she is. Yuna loved her. And she said she can stay all morning every single day! Where else are we going to find someone like that?”

You crossed your arms. He had a point. Hanna was free to babysit Yuna everyday, until 2 p.m, which is when you’d decided you would come back home. It was working out quite ideal.

“But you want to hire her for the wrong reason,” you pointed out, raising your eyebrows. Sehun shrugged. “Maybe the fact that she’s totally hot is an added factor. But you can’t deny that she’s exactly what we need.”

You bit your lip.

“Why?” provoked Sehun. “Are you jealous?”

Your eyes widened. “What? Why would I be jealous of the baby sitter?”

Sehun smirked, his eyes twinkling. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe you’ve finally started to see how great a guy I am. Maybe you want me all to yourself.”

You gaped at him. “You’ve lost your mind,” you sputtered. “I most definitely do not want you.” 

Sehun stepped closer to you, suddenly, and you took a step back, your waist colliding with the kitchen counter. “So you don’t find me even slightly attractive?” he said in a low voice. “Not even one tiny bit?” 

He was too close, his eyelashes fluttering over his dark eyes, his lips curved in a suggestive smile. The breath hitched in your throat. 

“No,” you breathed, your voice slightly uneven. “I don’t.”

And then he was backing away, the smile still on his lips. “Whatever you say.”

You turned away from him, feeling oddly warm. 

“We’re still hiring her!” Sehun called as he sauntered away.

The next few weeks passed in a blur, with you and Sehun both trying to adapt to your new lives and routines.

Hanna came over at 9 a.m every day, when you and Sehun left for work, Sehun attempting to look as responsible and fatherly as possible, making sure she noticed him.

Then you came back home right after lunch when Hanna left, leaving you with Yuna until the evening, when Sehun returned and had to do his share of being there for her.

You were oddly settled, slipping into this daily routine. You soon became accustomed to the afternoons with Yuna; she usually napped for a few hours and so you had some quiet time all to yourself.

And then your evenings were usually noisy and full of life, playing with Yuna, feeding her, bantering with Sehun and fighting over what to watch on TV.

You still felt pangs of grief every now and then, guilt even. You couldn’t help but feel as if you had stolen Jisoo’s life, her home, her family, even though she’d been the one to leave it to you.

But then you’d remember that your situation was nothing like her’s had been. Yes, you were living in her house and taking care of her baby. But you weren’t married to the love of your life like she had been. This wasn’t a proper family. 

You loved Yuna with all your heart. But Sehun stuck out like a sore thumb in your scheme of a happy life, and it bothered you. You weren’t sure whether you liked having him there or not. By now, you’d grown too used to him, to this circumstance that had forced the two of you together.

He was almost becoming less of a pain, you thought sometimes, and more of a companion you didn’t mind having by your side.

Your intense dislike of him had certainly diminished, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge around him.

All you were certain of was that you didn’t hate him, not anymore.

But just when you thought things were finally settling down and everything was fine on the Sehun end, all it took was one evening to bring it all crashing down.

It was a Friday evening, and after countless reminders to Sehun of the fact that you had an event to help run for work, it seemed to have completely slipped his mind.

Because he announced to you that was going to a party, and that he couldn’t look after Yuna. You were furious, re-stating the fact that your commitment was much more important, and that he had been informed about it for weeks. He had no right to shirk his responsibilities for a party.

Not wanting to argue with him for longer, and completely fed up, you just left for the event, leaving him with no choice but to figure out what to do.

You assumed he’d just call Hanna and beg her to watch Yuna, or even ask the neighbors to take her in instead. The idea of that pissed you off, but you couldn’t make his decisions for him. If he was that immature and irresponsible, there was nothing you could do about it.

But you were pleasantly surprised when you came home late that night to find Yuna fast asleep in her crib, and Sehun staring darkly at the television in front of him. He took a swig from the bottle in his hand as he saw you, his eyes glinting.

“So you stayed,” you said quietly. “I’m glad.”

“Hanna couldn’t make it. The neighbors weren’t home. So yeah, I didn’t have a choice,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “I don’t really have a choice at all, these days. Not since I got left with a baby without any warning.”

You let out a breath. “God, Sehun. The one night where you couldn’t do something you wanted—”

“It’s not just today, dammit,” he burst, setting the bottle down with a thud. 

You laughed in disbelief. “I’m so sorry Sehun, that parenting isn’t as fun as you thought. That you can’t go running to your little parties when things get too tough. But deal with it. You’re an adult, for god’s sake. Act like one.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Your life got exciting didn’t it?” he said darkly. “Your life before all this was dull as fuck.”

“How dare you?” you breathed, now angry. 

“Me on the other hand, I had a fun life,” he spat. “I would go out anytime I fucking wanted to, I didn’t have to worry about coming back on time to take care of a child. I could go on dates with girls, drink until I couldn’t stand up straight, and I loved it. And look at me now. This is pathetic.”

A nasty rage was simmering in your chest.

“You may have had a fun life, but you sure as hell didn’t have people who respected you, let me tell you,” you said, your voice dangerously low. “Junmyeon, Jisoo and I, we were ashamed of you. We just never said it straight to your face.”

Sehun stood up, his eyes flashing. “Fuck you.”

You clenched a fist. “Fuck you,” you whispered. 

Sehun brushed past you and grabbed his car keys. “Where are you going?” you said, alarmed.

“It’s none of your fucking business,” he replied, opening the door. “Are you crazy?” you hissed, grabbing his arm. “You’re drunk. You really shouldn’t be out driving, especially not when your kid’s parents died in a car accident—”

“She is not my kid,” he snapped, wrenching out of your grip. 

“Then whose kid is she?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling with hurt. 

Sehun ran a hand roughly through his hair.

Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

A/N: Soooo things got kinda heavy? What do you think about Sehun’s outburst? Leave me your thoughts as always, I wanna know what you think!!

[chaj]

via medium.com

credits: Alex Gray

There are plenty of articles swirling around the web offering very practical processes, frameworks or new perspectives aimed at building the future of brand strategy and account planning.

This is not one of them.

See, planners love to talk process. Rarely do we discuss practice.

I’m talking about those small, simple, surprisingly enriching habits we can do to help us operate better as creative people. Routines we can return to and repeat, over time, in order to compound our creativity. Interests and skills that can prevent us from devolving into lifeless robots.

The reality is, we can ramble on about Porter’s 5 Forces till we’re blue in the face — it won’t necessarily make us more inspired, more creatively fulfilled or more imaginative in the way we approach the craft of brand planning.

So instead of penning another post with some elaborate consumer mindset matrix that you can copy-and-paste into your next strategy presentation, I figured I’d instead offer up 20 ways to help you become a better strategist. A mindset, rather than a skillset.

It may seem trivial. It may seem impractical. But even if there’s just one thing in here that you start using, I’ll consider it a roaring success. And of course, it’s not an exhaustive list, so I’m interested to know what works for you.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Archive your media consumption

Books, podcasts, news stories, documentaries, interesting YouTube clips. Diversify. Record all the media you consume, on paper. If you want, distill it into one sentence once you’re done, or write down the one thing you found most remarkable about it. It may sound obsessive. And it is. But if you subscribe to the idea that creativity is merely connecting the dots, you need to start by collecting more dots. Either you’ll quickly find holes in your media diet, or you’ll begin to see more patterns in the world around you. Win, win.

Write your own textbook

Before I landed my first job as a strategist, I had zero experience in the field. Zilch. But what I did have was a surplus of post-graduation angst, way too much time on my hands, and a handful of empty notebooks. So I read blogs, consumed industry articles and scribbled down a bunch of bad ideas that now make me laugh. I filled notebook after notebook with random quotes, stats, useful insights from studies on psychology or human behavior, diagrams of business frameworks, lists of branding principles, even slides from noteworthy Skillshares. It’s still a habit I hold today, and it’s probably been the most beneficial contributor to my own work. Become an obsessive archiver. Create your own course syllabus. Write your own textbook.

Go to a bar by yourself

Or coffee shop. Book store. Park. Doesn’t matter. Some place where people mingle. Free yourself from corporate captivity and head out into the wild. For some odd reason, it seems as though strategists and account planners today don’t get out into the real world very often (even stranger, we’ve begun to celebrate them whenever they do). Which is why the smallest, simplest thing I’d challenge you to do is to go interface with complete strangers somewhere. Observe the way people interact. Ask them questions. Listen. Don’t be a creep. It may feel awkward at first, but you’ll come away with something special. And the truth is that the more awkward, terrifying, or contrived this may feel to you, the more you probably need to actually go do it.

Meditate

It’s as simple as this: if you work in a creative industry and don’t meditate, you’re leaving potential on the table. So start with this: 10 minutes a day for 10 days. It’s that easy. If you don’t notice any difference in your mental state, then feel free to discredit everything else I say from this point forward. I genuinely believe in it. And some of the smartest, most creative people I’ve worked with are believers, too. You know that uncomfortable, anxious feeling you experience when you have 30 open tabs on your browser? Same thing happens inside your noggin, day-in and day-out. You may not even realize it. But it clouds and corrodes your mental machinery. Use meditation as your mental disinfectant.

Set yourself back 40 years

“You have to understand the past to understand the present.” Those are the words of famed astrophysicist Carl Sagan, but it’s pertinent advice for marketing strategists, too. In an industry so obsessed with timeliness, it helps to recognize and appreciate timelessness. Because as much as we like to nerd out on Snapchat’s latest ad offering, or Mary Meeker’s mobile adoption charts, or some clever campaign execution that just sprouted up on every industry trade website, the reality is that you can learn a lot about the future by better understanding the past. By understanding the things that haven’t changed or will never change. By recognizing behaviors, attitudes or ideas that withstand the test of time. You can check out The Anatomy of Humbug or The Book of Gossage or 100 Ways to Create a Great Ad or A Master Class in Brand Planning or even check out John Griffith’s Out of the Box Thinking. Anything that provides a peek behind the curtain of Nowness.

Make writing a practice

A common first mistake is thinking you’re not a writer. That it’s a domain reserved solely for people with ‘creative’ in their title. Nonsense. If your job depends on articulating ideas, you need to write. Not to mention, you need to write with clarity, with simplicity and, at times, unfettered imagination. Fortunately, there are a lot of good books out there to help anyone, in any position, get a better handle on how to write. Annie Lamott’s Bird by Bird. Stephen King’s On Writing. Steven Pinker’s The Sense of Style. Kurt Vonnegut’s rules for writing. There’s a bunch. Bonus: George Saunder’s “What Writers Really Do When They Write.” Or just stop reading bad books from bad writers. Life’s too short for that.

Study shareholder reports

For better or for worse, Wall Street runs this world. And since shareholders determine so much of the business world today, both directly and indirectly, these publicly available artifacts are invaluable. They give you a better sense of how corporations actually create value in the world, how they communicate that value and how they intend to build on that growth moving forward. Learn the basics. Know what to look for in a balance sheet. Understand a company’s levers for growth. Look at the language they use. Better yet, invest a few hundred bucks in a company. Monitor its ebbs and flows for a few months. It’ll teach you more about business than any advertising award show case study.

Debunk your own opinions

Strategy requires decisiveness. Problem is, decisiveness sometimes breeds certitude, self-assurance, maybe even cockiness. Be suspicious of certainty, everywhere you see it. One of the great qualities that make strategists so valuable in the creative process is their innate sense of contrarianism. Their recognition of biases and blindspots. The ability to put thoughts through the scientific method. So to build up this elasticity of mind, I say, spend more time exploring contrasts. Refresh your critical thinking skills. Study the dichotomy of debate. Watch FoxNews and MSNBC in the same sitting (but stop before it makes you depressed about the world). Covet thy contrasts. Ultimately, it’s about listening more, not less, to the opinions of those you disagree with. Because having answers is great. But having perspective is, too.

Follow creative visionaries like you follow sports teams, Beyonce or Game of Thrones

I‘m always fascinated to hear how other creative people talk about their work. Creative people beyond the world of advertising or marketing. I’m especially partial to architects and industrial designers — the way they share inspiration, the way they describe their creative process, the words they use to articulate experiences, and the manner in which they frame the challenges they overcame. It’s inspiring to hear them talk, and it’s a kick-in-the-ass reminder that you don’t need a bunch of slides in a Keynote deck to sell an idea. Go find inspiration external of your industry. It’s everywhere. Simple stuff, like James Victore’s YouTube videos, Netflix’s Abstract series, or a podcast on the craft of songwriting. For God’s sake, let’s broaden our creative aperture beyond just marketing.

Go for a walk

The benefits of walking on creativity are really starting to stack up. Personally, I’ve been amazed at how quickly it can jumpstart thinking. My advice: make it a daily ritual. Even if it’s just 5 minutes or quick spin around the block. Take a colleague. Talk things through. Bond. It’s a useful way to really get to the heart of something. Not only can this more casual setting help bullshit-proof your talking points and weed-out all the wicked jargon, it may be one of the handiest ways to get outside of your own head a bit. As Søren Kierkegaard once said, “I walked myself into my best thoughts.” And suffice it to say that dude had some pretty profound thoughts.

Start an observation journal

In his book Choose Yourself, James Altucher recommends writing down 10 new ideas each day as a way to develop your ���idea muscle.” The thought is, most of these ideas will probably suck, but it’s the regimen the matters most. Instead of ideas, you may find it beneficial to create a shortlist of observations or insights you have throughout the day. It can include seemingly minor realizations, like the way people act in elevators, or the way runners acknowledge each other on the streets or your own quirky theory around how people’s fashion choices correlate to their usage of certain slang. I don’t know. Get weird. Something might stick. And whenever the duty to “uncover an insight” for a project finally comes along, it won’t feel so daunting. And who knows, maybe it’ll all eventually culminate into something brilliant like this or this or this.

Get tactile

The screen is your enemy. At least at first. So before you even begin to design a presentation or outline a narrative or self-edit your thoughts, it helps to get out of your own head and put things down on paper. Not Powerpoint. Not Google Docs. Paper. Use sharpies, stickies, index cards. Pull out a blank page and free-write for five minutes. Draw your own version of an input canvas. Make lists, sketch diagrams, give yourself a nasty paper cut. It helps. A strategist’s own self-induced demand for irreducible simplicity often makes this type of playfulness seem verboten. But it gets the brain to fire in different ways. And there’s a bit of magic in making a mess. Plus, it often results in interesting creative stimulus that can help inspire others, or even make them feel a bit more like an active participant in your own process.

Master the interview

Say what you want about Howard Stern, but the man extracts answers out of people that no one else can. I’m amazed at how great interviewers can do this. They strip away people’s protective layers like old coats of asbestos-laden paint. TV legends like James Lipton, Barbara Walters, Larry King. But there’s also a new wave of noteworthy people today on YouTube and podcasts. People like Sam Jones, Brian Rose, Krista Tippett, just to name a few. Watch their body language. Listen to their line of questioning. Notice how they navigate the subtexts in between spoken sentences. The point is, we stand to gain a lot from speaking less and listening more. And being able to ask the right question, the right way, at the right moment, is some sort of alchemy.

Write poetry

Hold on, hear me out. This one’s more important than you think. Writing poetry trains you to choose your words wisely. Admittedly, it’s hard. Really hard. And it can be incredibly uncomfortable at first. But reduction is an art-form. And simplicity is key, right? You’ll quickly notice how many of the words we use on a day-to-day basis are (at best) entirely unnecessary and (at worst) downright confusing to those around us. Start writing. Obsess over details. Revise, refine, rework. With a little bit of patience and a commitment to practice, you may be astounded at how drastically it changes both the way you express yourself and how you communicate ideas. Plus, poetry almost serves as a sort of creative liposuction for buzzwords, cliches and other egregiously overused language.

Channel your inner comic

Comics are critical conduits of cultures and society. Sounds overstated, right? It’s not. The role of the comedian — among many — is to observe people’s behaviors, the words they use, their assumptions and habits and idiosyncrasies that all too often go unnoticed. For comics, truth is currency. Jokes make us laugh because they make us think. And that’s why stand-up comedy is incredibly relevant to any aspiring creative individual (aside from also being utterly enjoyable). Have a go at writing some of your own comedy bits. Revisit the beautiful world of satire writing. Sign-up for an improv comedy course. Not only will it get you to think, it will get you to think fast. It’ll teach you about universal truths. It’ll teach you about delivery. It’ll teach you how to rediscover your own sense of playfulness. And it’ll teach you the importance of not taking things so devastatingly seriously. We‘d all stand to benefit from taking things a bit less seriously.

Analyze the anatomy of stories

People who work in advertising are all storytellers in the same way that people who live in Los Angeles are all actors. Hogwash. Instead of trying to become the next Rumi, maybe start by simply unpacking the methods that other master storytellers use to hook you. Virtually any story — a news article, a TED talk, a documentary — can be dissected into distinct elements. What’s the main thesis? How do they support or prove this thesis? What’s the narrative arc? What are the chapters of their story? You can usually identify the sequences of stories with a little extra effort and attention (case in point, most business books have one core idea behind them — no matter how ‘big’ they claim their idea to be — even a cursory glance at the table of contents can give you a better sense as to how the author chooses to present their story, offer evidence, explain its implications and, ultimately, persuade you).

Maintain logs

Logs are just daily recordings. You can use them to monitor your personal finances, track fitness goals or tally up your basic to-do lists. Anything, really. But logs are important because they operationalize two things that all strategists continually need: perspective and progress. Logs remind us that making shit happen takes time. It also takes dedication, an eye for effectiveness and a step-by-step plan for actually getting there. Don’t overthink it. Start small. Ideally, something in your personal life you want to achieve or get better at. Set goals. Figure out the ways to best get it done. Make adjustments as you go. It’ll add rigor to your personal life. And it’ll bleed over into your work eventually.

Bourdain yourself

Yes, I just turned celebrity chef and television personality, Anthony Bourdain, into a verb. But it’s a helpful one. I’ve long admired the way Bourdain (and really any travel writer) looks beyond their own understandings of the world in order to gain a new perspective of the people around them. It’s a good way to live your life. Certainly more interesting. Truth is, I’ve never stepped foot inside of a mosque. I’ve never attended a polo match. I’ve never competed in an organized dance competition nor have I ever traveled to Southeast Asia. Yet each one of these experiences have their own unique subcultures, traditions, vernacular, symbols and social norms that make them remarkably distinct and special. It gives you a slightly better sense as to why people act the way they do. Why they believe what they believe. You get to see the underbelly of what matters to people. Keep notes. Take pictures. Absorb.

Teach others

Inside of you is a set of experiences, ideas and opinions unique to you. Cherish it. There are a ton of eager students, junior strategists or otherwise aspiring professionals who could gain a lot from learning from you. Pay it forward. Even if you have no altruistic bone in your body, consider this: teaching is hard, and chances are, it’ll actually make you better at what you do. Because one of two things will most likely happen. One, you’ll realize how much you still need to learn. Amazing, damn that ego. Two, you’ll quickly find that explaining basic concepts — like, say, how to write a creative brief or how to find insights or how to ask provocative questions—all help to solidify and simplify your own process and approach. It filters out superfluity. It refocuses you on the foundations. And, let’s not forget, it serves to help out others that could really benefit from face-time with a devilishly brilliant strategist like you.

Check-Out

There’s a great quote from, of all places, Winnie the Pooh: “Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.” It’s an important parting sentiment. Because sometimes it actually helps to stop being a strategist. To stop experiencing life through the lens of what can this teach me about brands or marketing or the current state of media? To stop defining yourself by your day job. To stop over-thinking, over-exerting, over-internalizing every passing idea that swims through your head during the course of the day. Close your laptop. Get out of the office. Spend time with people who don’t work in advertising and marketing. People who have never heard of Cannes Lions. People who don’t care which agencies you’ve worked at in the past. People who never utter words like “value proposition” or who sling around slang like “authentic brand connections” or who refer to their friends and families and other people they pass throughout the course of their day as “consumers”. Go have fun. Indulge. Enjoy something mindless. Take care of yourself. Temper the flames. Don’t be your job.

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

house training chihuahua | puppy training techniques

New Post has been published on https://dogtraining.dknol.com/english/house-training-chihuahua-puppy-training-techniques/?utm_source=Tumblr&utm_medium=Tumblr+%230+Freda+K+Pless&utm_campaign=SNAP%2Bfrom%2BBest+Dog+Training

house training chihuahua | puppy training techniques

Tunnels Also, you should regularly check the firmness and consistency of their stools and if they’re too hard and dry, or soft and runny, there’s likely something wrong with their diet or a medical condition to blame. Again, seek the advice of your family vet. 32 Back to top Crate Training Guide Like “sit,” you can start training your dog the “down” cue with a treat lure. Thanks Brushes, Combs & Blow Dryers Kristi PahrMar 02 Use these training tasks as you integrate the puppy into your life. For example, ask your puppy to “sit” prior to receiving her food, “sit” before you let her in or out the door, and “sit” before you pet her. These are times when your puppy wants something and is more likely to comply. In this way, you are training your dog all the time, throughout the day and also establishing predictable rules and routines for interactions and helping the dog to learn who controls the resources. Training your puppy prior to getting each requested necessity, helps to prevent problems. Having your puppy sit before getting a food or treat prevents begging, while teaching your dog to sit before opening the door can prevent jumping up or running out the door. Be creative. The time you spend training your puppy now will pay off when you have an adult dog. To have a well-trained dog, you need to be committedto reinforcing the training tasks on nearly a daily basis for the first year of your puppy’s life. The more you teach and supervise your puppy, the less opportunity it will have to engage in improper behaviors. Dogs do not train themselves, when left to choose their behavior they will act like dogs. Go back Changing Lives: Socialization with people & other dogs Even if your dog has many bad habits that need to be corrected, or if you don’t have as much time to put into the training, you’ll still see results, if you keep at it. Training Locations Urgent Care How to Introduce a New Puppy to Your Older Dog Kentucky Derby Breakfast Pre-elimination behaviors COPYRIGHT Gadgets LTHQ May 18, 2015 at 1:09 pm The Puppy Primer The concepts of “pack” and “dominance” in relation to dog training originated in the 1940s and were popularized by the Monks of New Skete in the 1970s. The model is based on a theory that “dogs are wolves” and since wolves live in hierarchical packs where an alpha male rules over everyone else, then humans must dominate dogs in order to modify their behavior.[68] However, recent studies have shown that wolves in the wild actually live in nuclear families where the father and mother are considered the pack leaders, and their offspring’s status depends on their birth order which does not involve fighting to attain a higher rank, because the young wolves naturally follow their parents’ lead.[69] See our Dog Trainer Professional program for the certification course. If you comfort your puppy whenever he whines, it may actually make things worse. It will make your puppy think he’s being praised for whining, and get him into the habit of repeating it for your affection. Winning Your Puppy’s Love, Trust and Respect You are here: Home / Puppy Training – Dog Training Guides, Information, Tips and Advice / Puppy Training Stages © Copyright 2017 – Red Cat Media Ltd Most importantly, socialization—the key to raising your puppy to be a well-adjusted adult dog. Private Training: Individualized training for problem behaviors, in your home or at the SPCA. Private training options include training for blind or deaf dogs, shy or nervous dogs, aggression towards people or pets, resource guarding, one-on-one training in your home or at the SPCA, service dog training, and all other training that will help with your individual circumstances. The options are limitless – we are here to help! Learn more, Email us, or call 831-264-5422 to schedule an appointment. CANCEL So where do you start with dog obedience training? You could take a class, but it’s not necessary; you can do it yourself. In fact, with the right attitude, it can be fun for both you and your dog! Lisa Smith says That I-90 Closure Is Happening This Weekend Exercise & Toys for Birds You’ll want to get your pup to the veterinarian within 48 hours of bringing him home. That’s important to make sure he’s in good health. Many puppy purchase contracts require an exam within that time frame as well. Without it, the seller may be unwilling to accept the pup’s return if he has a serious illness or congenital or hereditary defect. Some dogs can be nervous or shy – whether that’s around other people or dogs. Some tips to help your dog overcome their fears and learn that the world isn’t such a scary place include: Puppy Level 2 It’s natural for puppies to play-fight, and very healthy for them to do so. If you need a break from it, separate them by putting them in their individual crates, or different rooms.

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fbq('track', 'ViewContent', content_ids: 'dogtraining.dknol', ); Kennel Disinfection Promoting Your Cat’s Health Belgian Malinois The topical products we use on ourselves and even our pets could cause big problems if accidentally ingested or administered incorrectly. Dr. Burch notes that sometimes house soiling is a sign of a physical issue. “Well before the several month mark, a dog who has seemed impossible to housetrain should have a good veterinary workup,” she says. If your vet finds that your dog is healthy, the next step is to find a trainer or behaviorist who has had experience with this issue. April 14, 2017 7:53 pm my store In my experience, one of the main reasons housetraining fails is because dog parents have a tendency to look at their canine companions as four-legged humans. They view pet accidents on the floor the same way they would view a person who relieved him- or herself on the floor. Shop By Pet Writing Cornerstone Society July 25, 2018, 5:07 pm For Veterinarians                      Note that these are consecutive minutes/hours, not total time during the day or night.  Class Locations – Exclusions: Add-on items, out-of-stock items, Donations, Petco Gift Cards and eGift Cards; items shipped through white glove delivery or LTL delivery; orders exceeding the maximum weight limit of 300 lbs.; and applicable taxes. Additional exclusions may apply and will be noted on the Product Detail page and/or Shopping Cart. Place an Obituary Your puppy must accept YOU as the leader in your family. Being the leader simply means you are the one who decides what is okay for Puppy to do and what isn’t okay. Not only do temperatures heat up at this time of year, but fires as well. Keep your family and dog safe. …read more Screen Reader: Supported Saturday 8:00am – 12:00pm Pet Friendly Listings 21st Century Cures Comments (4) 5.0 out of 5 starsVery Helpful Essential Skills for your Growly but Brilliant Family Dog: Books 1-3 (Boxset): Unde… It was too simplified and basic, didn’t add much to my knowledge even though this is the first puppy I’ve had. all other dogs have been rescues About Canna-Pet® Once you’ve progressed to the point where you’re trying to get your dog to spend progressively longer periods of time in their crate, you’ll want to start replacing (or supplementing) their training treats with longer-lasting treats and food puzzles. Food puzzles are great because they occupy your dog’s mouth and brain for a much longer period of time than a simple treat or regular chew toy. Good examples include the variety of “stuffable” Kong toys, and those from West Paw Designs (e.g., the Quizl or Toppl). Check out this article for more on choosing a good food puzzle or interactive feeder for your dog. Took us a little longer, but our puppy quickly learned how to read, and got with the program. The dog activities are all provided in PDF form so you can print and make a workbook for your personal use. We come to your house 3-5 times each week for 1 hour training sessions with your puppy. You don’t even have to be there. Then we meet with you for a one hour weekly session to transfer your pup’s new skills to you. obedience puppy training | how to train puppies obedience puppy training | boxer puppy training obedience puppy training | puppy training videos Legal | Sitemap

[ladyofmind]

January Hashtag Games

Chances are you started to follow me for one of two reasons...

1- You saw my music posts and enjoy listening to my playlists (a great reason to be friends by the way)

2- You found me through my writing, and likely one of those writing-related topics was a hashtag game. Which, was more fun than I thought it would be, so there will be more of these posts in the future.

I participated in 3 games, this past month, and pulled my answered together in one place now.

First up is one that quickly became a favorite, even if I was a latecomer to it...

#characterstell, hosted and credited to @m_arbanassi, not only set one of my favorite characters loose on Twitter, but it also made me think more about some of the other faceless faces in my crowd. It also holds the honor of being the first post I had retweeted, not once but twice. I can not tell you how much Sly’s introduction, and it’s retweets meant to me. After all, it is very easy to just like and keep going, I do it often enough, but to retweet a post about a name? Sometimes the little things make a difference to someone else, and in this case, it was like being heard even a tiny bit in my new little fresh grass patch of Twitter. All because of a character with a name I researched quite a bit to strike the perfect balance, in what is essentially just an Easter Egg type of inside joke between myself and the real Sly.

#CharactersTell

15/1- Out of all the chars, spotlight falls on "Ballentine Rajneesh Siyamak, but you can call me Sly for short." In an old-school fashion, Sly bent at the waist. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, and welcome to this fascinating club. Are you here for a milkshake?"

16/1- (Sly) "I strive to be neutral, and my own person. I may have learned some of the finer arts of socializing from Miss Tweety, MC to you, but I prefer to be my own man." #lonewolf is an insult to *someone's* sense of self. Prefers #observer or maybe #batman

17- As host with a persona to upkeep, I find inclusion with all patrons. Gus was a mentor, Malta and Frost for dialect or brogue, Deej's comedic antics (thunderous stampede interruption of Bebe, caught by Nira) 👈 they keep us lithe and in need of disinfectant.

18/1- I like big books and can not lie… You don't get a moniker of "Dictionary" for being a music catalog. I have had some spirited debates about lyrics and… (Mechanical bat draws focus, #dancing on jukebox to play @tapefive #BadBoyGoodMan) #themesong        

19- I have been informed that I used to flirt poorly, where the person of interest was not even aware I was trying. Former covert coquet, now I woo those in low spirits, but I am not looking for any attachments. Might still be bad at knowing when I am courted...

20/1- Hotheaded? That is never me. I do not antagonize easily, nor can one ruffle my feathers as they say. If you are looking for argumentative types, talk to Nira about a duck. Or make fun of Frost's kilt. Who goes looking for that sort of trouble anyway?

21/1- If by weapons you mean a sharp wit, brilliant wordsmith talent, and the ability to make some mean drinks with a well-received boozy milkshake? Then consider me #always #armed and #dangerous

22/1- You saw me as the big lug the wee lasses took pity on, and danced with. They loved how I could toss them in the air, and I loved the respect getting the attention of Tweety, whom my snobby friend couldn't, got me. More admirers didn't hurt either ;)

23/1- hobbies? I have a girlfriend now, thanks to that one bar night, but I fix cars and love that. #classiccar fan right here.

24/1- My parents are like any other really, mom and dad are great, had a bunch of kids, some have made them grandparents. Nieces and nephews are adorable...

25/1- Yes! I'm the second youngest, with 2 brothers and 2 sisters. We're all old enough to start our own families now, and I can't wait to either!

26/1- is a story about an under confident guy (with a slick self important friend), who gets the attention of an influential woman, who opens up his love life from there worth telling?

27/1- if you asked my social status months before, I would have said absolutely not, but now? Yes, most definitely yes. 😁

28/1- broken the law? No. I may have been seen as a nobody, but I'm a good hearted nobody thru and thru!

29/1- MC: I have never said anything nasty about her as a person; I just disagreed with the business practices…

Ant: She… looks… less yellow…, and I hate you now too for making me do that.

30/1- I didn't have a story when you met me the first time, but my story continued, and I could very well be a confidante. It's not like I'm single therefore threatening to MC sensibilities…

31/1- Are we not all Main Characters in our own lives? If you act with confidence and charisma, you become important to someone else. A MC in their eyes.

Next up is #authorconfession, from  @-jm-sullivan and @jjulien25

This one was full of challenging questions, like the one about playing cards, or famous paintings? Who thinks about their work in progress that way? Super helpful, and worth the researching to play along...

1- Hello, I am a #library worker by day, #writer by night, simply putting the stories inside me out on paper. Goal is always to finish books and see about publishing them.

2- Resolutions? 1- To stop letting bestie embarrass me so 2- have the cupcake, enjoy the cupcake. 3- Not spend as much on clothing and shoe- *giggles* nope, scratch that one.

3- My @goodreads goal is 5 books, but I am always reading when I am not writing, I just don't always finish a book.

4- I just started my platform efforts barely a month ago, so actually having one is the start of my improving it. The dream is finding like minded souls who like my work…

5- Improving my writing means I have to improve my editing, but like my writing got better with practice, so too shall my editing…

6- Proud of in my writing? That there are scenes that move me, also that my test readers find emotional connections to the works.

7- If Tink were Tweet? I'd have to admit to #magic, but height, and possibly attitudes are similar. Tink would have an amazing wardrobe though. #fashionista wannabe MC anyone?

8- Diversity? I think that I have each character standing out with their culture, or wisdom, the one thing that makes them unique.

9- Ooh good one. The antagonist hits a few rungs on the sin ladder, even with henchmen. But her driving sin? Pride.

10- Weirdest place… Airplane? My hand? Oh how about when I am the adult watching library study hall? Best is when the kids don't come in, but you have to stay in case they do…

11- Mucky middle, and possibly needing to rewrite already, to shore up a big plot bunny that will only get worse if I don't fix it now.

12- Victory has to be doing #NaNo and making my 50k. Proved to myself I can do it, now I must keep up the momentum to keep #winning

13- 💃💃🕺 +  🥃🍸🍹👙🎉  = 😊😘😜🤔😳😮🤯🙄😎😇

14- So many choices! Tweety of course, because she is how I started really writing… but I have loved chars from @Lynsay_Sands, @JennAllyson, and Adrienne Basso

15- Two day #wordcount since midnight is only a clock setting…. #amediting- 5786 #amwriting- 378 plus many uncounted blog or Twitter post prepping.

17- T is totally Sweet, like the cheerleader next door, but she can be so sassy!

18- Can you measure love? Because my chars are important to me and so I honor them the best I can by trying to be present for them and their scenes.

19- This is a great question! I'm not sure, but I know Tweet would be a classics woman. #Casablanca… with #BreakfastAtTiffany's being a runner up film.

20- Tweety, Bebe, and Malta of course! They are known as triple trouble for a reason… Just bring the Cockney/English translator and you'll be fine.

21- The honesty in the memories; that was the only reason he couldn't stop reading. #spoilers if I kept going, but it's so good…

22- Famous painting? #Nighthawks by Edward Hopper is more her life, but #MadameX by John Singer Sargent is more how she feels about herself.

23- Fear GIF? Something like this… https://giphy.com/gifs/CAfSQXZj9JLQA/html5

24- Only if it's life threatening… My gals are #tinybutmighty and figure out how to get out of most things, together or apart. No woman is ever that helpless… unheard and unheeded maybe, but not helpless.

25- I have to say Tweet is the King of Hearts, doesn't matter that she's female, she rules the roost with love. Also thanks to @thecardsoflife for helping me figure that one out on their website. Going back to define a few more chars that way now…

26- My SO knows he's Nira, and already has an understanding about my relationship with fictional Woods or maybe Sly, because what writer doesn't want a dictionary brain to talk to?

27- Karaoke? Most likely find her singing #BeautifulGoodbye by Jennifer Hanson.

28- My #WIP has been with me for a long time now, and I am always impressed with its growth into its own established setting with cast of chars…

29- Transporting myself somewhere else? Or just giving a voice to the ideas and chars I love in my head.

30- Writing progress in this new year? None, other than starting social media… But in 2017, I finally finished writing book 1! January is rough to balance #work and #writing.

31- #SparkleOn to quote #AldousHuxley from my advice wall "A bad book is as much of a labor to write as a good one; it comes as sincerely from the author's soul." So just write good, bad, and ugly words. Only practicing will help you find your way of doing you.

Finally, we have that which might have been my first hashtag game find... #WIPjoy from @simmeringmind

1- Naomi aka Tweety lives and works in a bar/nightclub trying to keep a business running among a cast of strange characters, all while trying to find her self and maybe a little love too.

2- 5 things I value? Family, #music, my lessons from #librarylife, my hubs and the support we share, and of course, being able to express myself by #writing.

3- Only the legendary myths remain, sharing the stories in the Red Letters series...

4- To finish writing my books and edit them as well, to hopefully query by summer… #fingerscrossed #hardworkahead.

5- Switching to the sort of Male MC for this one. To be a #famous #rockgod of course. Maybe with the #muse of his dreams too? #spoilers?

6- (stained glass pic) Something that helped inspired depth in my bar #setting

7- The big one of 2017? Finally #finished writing the first #book! Only took more years than I would have liked… Still proud it's finished too.

8- My #strength as a #writer? The feels or #emotions you get from my characters, and my occasional bouts of #wisdom

9- "A giant Scot and a tiny Cockney drinking beyond the point of drunk? Really? So far the only thing that I can relate to is being drawn to a fine musician's arse in jeans."

10- T and B for the win here. Who doesn't have that sort of extreme friend that pushes you out of your comfort zone? Especially loves to make you blush when you're chatting with something cute.

11- Cry? Yes… a little death and heartbreak can do that to you. After all, if you don't move yourself, how can you move anyone else?

12- 1- Character growths from first book, 2- More grown up vibe, no G rating 3- Multiple stories intersecting 4- The pool scene #waitandsee 5- The direction it's taking me on it's own.

13- Without sharing #spoilers, in the first book, there is a description of the bar that feels pretty magical, any of the parts alluding to olden days really.

14- Unfortunately, my poetry days are behind me, been a long time since I wrote angst-y rhyming couplets. Yes I know that's not all poetry, but the reminders… *shivers* nope, no more cutesy dark things, unless it's music, men, or clothes…

15- I beat the #writersblock with #music… It sets the mood, first by taking me out of mine, and then transporting me to the mood I need to #write in.

16a- If someone is going to try to own me, they can and will try, simply because I seem like the ownable sort. But they never will, not entirely, because they will never be able to take away my memories. #daring #note not yet in WIP L

16b- other creative outlets? #cooking, and I like to take pictures, but do not like being in them… creative in ideas, less in execution lol

17- #WIP as food- something that looks soft, fluffy, and too sweet, like cotton candy, but in tasting it, there is depth, balance and richness to the sweetness. So… savory cotton candy?

18- too many to choose, going today's currently repeating list… @awakeatlastrock #purgatorium, Ocean Eyes @billieeilish, and @jakeowen If He Ain't Gonna Love You  

20- It's brave because under all the fluff, at it's core, it's a story about a woman overcoming obstacles meant to break her spirits and still coming out on top… somewhat

21- Halloween of course! The costumes, the candy, *shivers and rubs a spot on neck, blushing softly* the memories are the best part…

22- Goals? Is it really wrong to want a nice looking bar façade that lets the girls make all my money for me? I sing to keep the customers coming, and to show off ;)

23- Frost aka "Ach Lass" "Ah drank wi' th' wee Malta, 'n' efter ye left lest time, th' ither lass cam in. Git cried Tweety doo, 'n' she stuck wi' it. Glad tae ken a'm nae th' ainlie yin wha sees trouble wi' her. Gettin an ulcer fae her ideas..." #badaccents maybe?

24- Dress for successful day, deal with kitty carrying #coffee, why is there always soapy water near the sink? Put out cupcakes, chat, flirt, dance, avoid overzealous types, have a deep chat while #writing, barely make it to bed to do it all over again. #barlife #businessowner

25- Malta- "A day 'ha' changed me life? Da day I me' duck an' Fros' ov course. 'ah can you no' remember 'he day you mee' a bloke 'ha' doesn' lose in 'he game ov drink? so wha' if 'e's a Sco'.. cuppa?"-handed tea before memories become another Cockney/Scottish debate…

26- Relate to her? Once I got arrested because of her, and had to use my blackmail to get off, I walked away to start over. Don't care about her, and don't mention her to me again.

27- Family? Why the staff here is my family now, and there are more memories every day. I'm sure we've forgotten far too many stories, but I will always remember the Handcuffs Halloween… It all started with this band performance in the club….

28- Try to go trad, or at least chat with a #literary #agent first, got to check the iffy legal issues are only in my head… Self pub is not off the table, just got to get ducks in rows. Still understanding it being #Women'sFiction now... bye YARomance, maybe next time?

29- Write for? Myself, the friends I have made that inspired this story, just found out a family friend's youth is into writing, so more reason to test the waters first... #experience that can be taught to the next gen writers.

30- Another line from my inspiring quote boards- "Be so good they can't ignore you."

31- Twitter @ladyofmind721, Tumblr- ladyofmind.tumblr.com/ and Instagram @ladytweet721 If you think I should be anywhere else, let me know! Still debating/working up courage for Facebook…

So I had a great month, putting myself and my work out there for you guys, let’s see where February’s games will take us.... Happy Writing!!