driftingprose

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I sometimes wonder now many people would go in for a Paris Catacombs type burial situation if that was an option in their home town. No marked grave, no memorial, just having all the flesh chemically stripped from their skeleton, which is then disassembled and incorporated into an anonymous wall of bones in some kind of fucked up underground labyrinth where people can walk through and look at the bones. I have to imagine there's a non-trivial market for that.

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Imagine a Star Trek type food replicator that lacks an internal library of approved outputs and instead uses a generative language model to figure out what you're asking for. People having to do Midjourney-style prompt crafting to get the meals they want out of it. Abusing the system by describing things that absolutely are not food in ways which circumvent the safeguards. Occasionally it produces something that tries to eat you back which it insists with perfect confidence is in fact a strawberry crumble.

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Just had a dream that a novel exists which is written from the POV of an old man dying in the 1920s in the form of diary entries and bit by bit it's revealed it's actually a closeted trans woman who was out during her youth and forced to recloset and now I desperately want to read it

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"I drew my fingers across my trousers and discovered nitric acid acts upon trousers" omg

sdxfcgvzdxfcgvhzdxfcgvhbjnkmlcgvhbjnk science

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A Brief (Social) History of Time

Time is one of the many things that writers coming from a modern perspective have a terrible, terrible habit of taking granted when they attempt to write a premodern fantasy. Modern notions of the second, the minute, the hour, the day, the week, (the WEEKEND!), the month, often get copy-pasted into fantasy literature wholesale, and often the only sop to it being a non-earth setting is a hasty name-change.

(Like: Whoa shit, son! there can’t be a January if this world doesn’t have a Janus, so I’ll call it… uhm… Manuary. >_>)

As a fantasy writer, one of my preoccupations is how things might have developed differently. So obviously our current calendar, with its 28-to-31-day months, 7-day weeks, and 24-hour days is one way that it could have developed, as is proven by the fact that it did, but are there other ways it could have gone? We think of it as natural and self-evident because it’s what we’re used to, but might some other system work equally well? Or are there real, physical factors in play that would inevitably lead us back to the same calendar? Is there a reason for having 12 months? Is there a reason why weeks have seven days? Is there a reason to have weeks at all?

In short, how do you invent a time system that could have plausibly developed? Or should you just file the serial numbers off the Gregorian system and use that?

Keep reading

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y’all need to be more patient with small businesses 😔 I promise that manufacturing is proceeding as fast as possible given the pandemic, and shipping prices are set to lower than the actual cost. it’s just that small businesses don’t have access to the infrastructure that companies like Amazon/Walmart use, so we seem slow/expensive in comparison.

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I love how it’s “The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and MISTER Hyde” as in, yeah, they are basically two sides of the same person but only ONE has a doctorate

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I'm struggling with whether/how to tell a friend that their WIP includes a lot of unnecessary detail and dialogue. Is there a general rule of thumb you'd recommend when evaluating this sort of thing?

The portrait of a courteous critiquer.

It can be tough when you want to give your friends honest writing advice but you also don’t want to hurt them or make them lose confidence in their writing. I would suggest giving this format a try:

1. Imply that it’s just your opinion.

2. Note what good aspects of the story the flawed parts are taking away from.

3. Provide a specific example from the story itself.

Put it together, and the full critique looks something like this:

“I love reading snappier, plot oriented writing like [these books]. You have a really interesting [plot/action scenes/emotional dialogue/etc], but some of the extra dialogue slows it down, so the sections in between feel like they drag to me. Like in [this specific scene], if you cut down on [this description], we could move right from this cool opening to this really neat plot point.”

Remember it’s always best to ask a writer (or any other content creator) if they’d like your critique before you give it! Try a simple, “hey I thought of some things which might make that awesome story you let me read better – would you like to hear them?”

(And if your friend decides they don’t want to take your advice, then support them in that! You’re not their editor.)

For more tips on giving critique, see this post!

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“Are you drunk or something?! Good fucking god. Text me back when you’re sober”

“that doesn’t mean you can send me pictures instead”

“or your bad poetry”

“what do you mean ‘she’d look so beautiful in white’ this is your wedding photo”

“You know what? Fine. You’re excited at meeting the One, you want to tell your best friend in the whole wide world, I get it. But I’m taking screenshots, and B’s going to see all of them.”

>NOOOOOOOOO

“...Yeah, hair of the dog ain’t got nothing on me.”

Person A nudging Person C to ask if Person B likes them or not, gushing about how wonderful and amazing B would be as a partner. Person C screeches that A has been married to B for YEARS.

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Why couldn’t the groom have asked one of his other best friends to go first? 

“Where to begin...?” god I wish I knew, at least that pause for effect should buy me some time, “It was way back in elementary school when I met, uh, Ben,” wait, was it Benjamin or Benedict? He’d have told me to stop by now if this was some elaborate joke, wouldn’t he? “And we’ve been history ever since!”

Polite chuckles all around. The happy couple beamed. 

“Oh, the stories I could tell about this old scamp...” He shot the groom a look with a grin just as wide. But this time, the laughs seemed to come from only half the room. Was that a slight waver he’d seen in Ben’s smile in the moment before he hid his face in (probably mock) embarrassment? His wife (some fancy name or other, Kate to several of the guests and Ben himself) hadn’t seemed to notice, patting him on the back even as she tried and failed to stifle her own giggles. 

What was going on? Even he searched for something to say, he took a closer look at the attendees. 

Ben’s party consisted entirely of relatives of various stripes, aunts and uncles with whole broods of cousins. A handful of those cousins had been the ones to swap stories about Ben with him and one another (but mostly one another); they were all close friends with Ben, apparently, but even they agreed unanimously that he was Ben’s best friend.

On the other hand, Kate’s guests were evenly split between friends, family, and family friends. All of them were polished, dressed in formal wear that gave away nothing of their label but looked outrageously well-made. They’d all known him as Ben’s best friend too, but where Ben’s guests had been nothing but welcoming and showed an eagerness to know every little detail of his life that bordered on mildly terrifying, these people responded with awkward politeness at best and poorly-disguised impatience at worst. Not that they behaved any better among themselves: friends and relatives loudly proclaimed their excitement at meeting again but smiled only with their lips, and every other conversation seemed to be trading hidden barbs back and forth as far as he could tell. 

“...but we’d be here all night if I tried, and the night is still young,” he finished. “So I’ll just say this: that day in third grade when he invited me over after school to play Mario Kart and pig out on junk food made my entire life in elementary school, and I would not be the person I am today without him.” 

It was the best way he could think of to describe that utter humiliation of a birthday party his mom had canceled his cinema tickets to make him go to, just for no one to show up. At least she’d finally bought him that laptop he’d begged for for months as a reward for “learning the importance of social obligations”, but no one here had to know- did Ben just look up?

“With that, I can say nothing more, because this day is about celebrating Ben and Kate, and the new life they embark on together. And just like the rest of you, I can only hope to support them on the way, and wish them nothing but happiness with the one they love.”

He raised the glass in his hand. At least toasts were always simple. Even the snootiest rich people wouldn’t interfere with a toast, it seemed. 

“To B-”

“To Benito and Kirsten!” the guests chorused. 

If he’d been in a better frame of mind, he might have been able to amuse himself with parallels to that other event of Ben’s he’d been invited to all those years ago. As it was, he wasn’t, and he couldn’t, and so he only had one thought on his mind:

Why hadn’t he read the invite more carefully?   

You get an invitation on your doorstep to the wedding of an old classmate from elementary school, who you barely even knew. You go, as a courtesy, and intend to leave as soon as possible, but quickly you realize that this old classmate considers you one of their best friends and has told every attendee about you. At the reception, you are asked to give a speech. The crowd turns their expecting gazes to you. The newlywed couple looks at you in anticipation.

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I pierce the heavens and wonder why, as you open your eyes on each new morn, my hands are tied; you deserve to die

In the heart of your sun, oh-so-high, from that broiling plasma soup I am repeatedly born. I pierce the heavens and wonder why.

But I cannot stay and so I fly, plunging to Earth in your glorious dawn. My hands are tied; you deserve to die.

Again and again I hear the cries of pain and rage, innocence shorn. I pierce the heavens and wonder why

In a room beneath the ground you sigh; your slave is disobedient, and for that you mourn My hands are tied; you deserve to die.

A thousand more atrocities beneath this sky But I am not your Creator. I can only warn... I pierce the heavens and wonder why my hands are tied; you deserve to die.

Light is actually a divine being that needs to travel nearly 93 million miles to the earth’s surface in order for it to survive. However, due to it’s extreme divinity, Light is disgusted by the fact that it must touch the vile humans that live there every single day, particularly you. Today it decides to tell you it isn’t putting up with you any longer.

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Forcefield

She cried out, and God

(*a* god? *the* gods?)

had mercy, heard her prayer.

They granted her a shield.

It was blue like the sky she’d since stopped looking at,

it was swirled like the lollipops she’d eaten long ago.

When it crackled, it sounded like laughter.

At her heart’s call it sprung to life,

a loyal dog protecting its mistress.

Blows became ribbons, bullets turned to fireworks

pearls from painful, disgusting grit

But her shield did not shield her heart

only respond to it

and soon she was wounded again

She did not cry out this time,

but carefully dried her tears

and set off to find answers

She found the gods instead, tall and proud,

and asked why they had toyed with her so.

"Power solves no problems," they said,

"and yet you mistake specks of dust for shining jewels,

scrabbling for them in the dirt. Judgment must be taught through practice.

"Thoughtful cruelties are better than careless kindnesses."

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Ink

My favorite pen has dark blue ink. It glides smoothly over cream-white paper, giving thoughts and ideas form and seeming, concealing multitudes of meaning beneath a single face.

My favorite ink is special, a dangerous substance Thick and long-lasting, it flows through my veins Sometimes I like to imagine I choke on it, its taste burning like the flames of my own special hell A special ink deserves a special pen.

With a stroke, I create my masterpiece.   

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“I mean, everything about being petty I learned from you.”

“Oh, come on! How was I supposed to know you weren’t actually saving them for breakfast?”

“Probably because I put them in an icebox near the door? And told you about my coworker who really likes fruit? Those were the biggest plums I’d ever seen. The perfect way to start a convo. I spent the entire day rehearsing it in my head. And you just had to go and ruin my chance with her.”

“But still, doing that with my toothbrush? That’s fucked up!”

“Well, that was for leaving that note on top of my empty icebox. Did you like the one I wrote you, by the way?” “...”

This is just to say I have used one of your toothbrushes to clean the bathroom tiles

and I’m not telling you which one.

It cleaned so wonderfully. The tiles have never been more spotless. Fuck you for eating my plums, Steve.

“This feels extremely petty.” “That’s because it is.”

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Writing Injuries

[ What a fitting topic, seeing as I’ve been inactive for almost a month now due to my own injury. ] Hey everyone, it’s Abby with a writing advice post! This week we’re talking about injuries, and we’re going a little in-depth.

So let’s get one thing down, real quick: Being injured sucks. But this guide isn’t anything close to comprehensive, and it’s definitely not the only thing you should be relying on for this topic. This is meant to help you get started and build a general base on injuries, treatments, effects, etc.

In this guide, we will not be talking about an injury’s effects on mental health; that topic on its own is extensive enough to be covered in a post of its own (which may very well happen eventually).

Keep reading

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Writing agent Jonny Geller gives advice to young writers. 

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Formatting your Manuscript

If you’re planning on one day turning your manuscript in to literary agents and publishing houses, you need to make sure it’s formatted correctly. In many cases, your manuscript will be skipped over if it isn’t done to industry standard, so here’s the basics that you’ll need if you don’t want to be ignored. Before I get started, please know that this is aimed specifically at fiction manuscripts. If you’re writing non-fiction or a memoir, the expectations will be different, so it would be wise to Google what you need.

The Basics

Make sure your font is 12 point Times New Roman, Courier New, or Arial. These are the only three fonts you are allowed to pick from.

Your spacing should be 1 inch on all sides of the text. This is the default on most word processors, but double check your settings just to be sure.

Your text should be double spaced.

All of your indentations must be a half inch. Do not press indent. Instead, drag over the top arrow on the ruler to have every new paragraph automatically indent.

The Title Page

The top left-hand corner of your title page will have all your personal information. They want to see your name, address, phone number, e-mail address, the novel’s genre, and word count.

Your novel’s title is allowed to be between 20-24 point font if you want. Bold is also an option, but not necessary.

The title will appear halfway down the title page.

“A novel by [your name]” will be about three quarters of the way down the page.

The Next Pages

If you have a dedication, it will be on its own page.

If you have some sort of verse or quote, those will also need their own pages.

Do not include a page for acknowledgements.

The Chapters

Chapter titles will be 12 point font. No bolding or italics.

Chapters will start from one quarter to halfway down the page.

An easy way to format chapter headings is to press enter five or six times

Make sure you always start your chapters the same way every time.

When you start a new chapter, make sure you use a page break to bump the new chapter onto a new page. This will keep it in place so that it will never budge, no matter how much you cut out or add to the previous chapter.

Page Numbers

Page numbers will start with 1 on Chapter 1 of your manuscript. Page numbers will not appear on the title page or dedication page.

Page 1 will be labeled in the footer of Chapter 1. It should be centered.

Page 2 will be in the header of the next page.

From page 2 onward, your headers will be labeled like this:

If you insert a section break after the title and dedication pages, it will make it easier to insert the page numbers.

For the most part, this is the most important of what you’ll need to know for formatting your manuscript. I used this video as reference, so I’m trusting everything it says is true because it was made by an author who has several novels published, and because it was uploaded this year, it should be up to date.

But just remember, whenever you go to turn in a manuscript, make sure you check the website of the agent or publisher you’re trying to contact. They might have specifications that differ with the ones stated in this video, and you should always do whatever you can to abide by what they want.