s-queen

[s-queen]

This is gold

All About Writing Fight Scenes

@galaxies-are-my-ink asked,

“Do you have any advice on writing fight scenes? The type of scene I’m writing is mostly hand to hand combat between two experts. I’m definitely not an expert so when I try to write it, the scene ends up sounding repetitive and dull.”

Fore note: This post is coauthored by myself and one of my amazing critique partners, Barik S. Smith, who both writes fantastic fight scenes and teaches mixed martial arts, various artistic martial arts, and weapons classes.

I (Bryn) will tell you a secret: I trained MMA for seven years, and when I write authentic hand to hand fight scenes, they sound dull too. 

The problem with fight scenes in books is that trying to describe each punch and kick and movement (especially if it’s the only thing you’re describing) creates a fight that feels like it’s in slow motion. 

I write…

Lowering her center of gravity, she held her right hand tight to her face and threw a jab towards his chin. He shifted his weight, ducking under her punch. His hair brushed against her fist, and he stepped forward, launching a shovel hook into her exposed side.

But your brain can only read so fast. In real life that series of events would take an instant, but I needed a full eight seconds to read and comprehend it, which gave it an inherent lethargic feel. 

So, we have two primary problems:

How do we describe this fight in a way the reader can understand and keep track of? 

How do we maintain a fast paced, interesting fight once we’ve broken down the fight far enough for readers to understand it? 

(We will get back to these, I promise.) But for now, let’s look at…

Different types of “fight scenes:”

Keep reading

[s-queen]

How do you cry for help when you don't speak the language of the gods?

[s-queen]

Moving from my The Magician era into my The Hanged Man era. Believe it or not that’s called growth baby

[s-queen]

October 28, 2023

I wanna love myself as much as I love the thrill of being able to love you

[s-queen]

October 21, 2023

Maybe feeling lost isn't so bad...

The first thing you see when you look at my profile is, just below my name, "Lost(? on my twenties ". That feeling of no direction is the whole reason I started this page. To communicate to random people that would perhaps listen, how bad I felt. Because sometimes it's too much to be sad and alone at the same time, and this platform somehow feels less alone, cause the possibility that someone will read this is always there.

The point of this post is that, a few days ago, I realized something powerful for me, that literally yanked me out of the depressive episode I had been in for almost a year. I had been questioning my passion for writing, for art, my academic path and the direction (or lack of) my life was taking. I realized how much I still have to learn about life, about being an adult, about who I am, and realizing how little I knew of myself was the breaking point that unraveled the poorly tied knot keeping my mental state in one piece.

Today's Saturday, or well, 2am on Sunday. On Tuesday it was my birthday, and I decided to just stay home, fuck university and anyone else for a couple of hours and I took some time for myself. Woke up early, saw the sunrise, meditated and after I was done with breakfast I took my journal and I decided to write everything I felt, the nice, the not so nice, and the ugliest parts of my feelings and my mental state, without the pressure of trying to understand, just letting it out. I came to a big realization after an hour in conversation with myself. It might seem simple and obvious to some, but it's hard to think straight when you're so deeply buried underneath layers of stress, anxiety, and self worth issues. At some point I realized "Yeah, I don't know who the fuck I am right now, and maybe that's a good thing... I don't know who I am anymore, I am a blank slate. That means I get to decide who I want to become, what version of myself I want to show the world, what version of myself I want to be proud of. Maybe that new journey will eventually lead me to discover more about who I am" and I think there's something really powerful in realizing that sometimes, all we need is a change in perspective.

At least that is what I needed this time.

[s-queen]

"Whenever she went, the world seemed to follow"

I haven't been able to get that random little phrase out of my head. Figured I would leave it somewhere.

[s-queen]

September 10, 2023

It feels like I outgrew everything I used to care about. Now, I'm lost in the middle of a well known road hurting because I started this path before I knew the smallest thing about myself, and my only options are to keep going as if nothing had changed, or turn back and sprint into the unknown hoping that feeling lost somewhere else will feel better than feeling lost at a place I'm supposed to feel comfortable calling "home"  

[s-queen]

Satan’s usually pretty chill in the way he runs Hell. Today he’s scrambling to make it look as miserable as possible because God is soon to visit

[s-queen]

Writing Prompt: Refusal of the Call

[ I saw this post this morning and idk, it kinda made me want to write again. My first language is Spanish so, if there's any errors or funky syntax please let me know xD. If I missed any typos, I'm sorry I have shit eyesight. ]

OC accidentally buys a fast-pass ticket to their destiny for $5.

🖋️🩷🪄

After their shift at the library, Alex stops by Moira's yard sale, an old lady that lives several houses down Alex's street. There's still a lot of stuff patiently waiting to be bought, so she sits on her rocking chair by the sidewalk. Feeling bad for the elderly woman, Alex decides to stop for a bit and contribute. Apparently she's moving with her family to a nice farmhouse in England and wanted to get rid of anything she wouldn't need anymore. Or that's what the chatty librarians were saying.

At the back of the yard you can see vintage chairs, clothes, a shelf with silverware, porcelain dishes and various stacks of books.

Closer to Alex there's a comfortable looking sofa and multiple boxes of old Christmas decorations that look at least 30 years old. On top of a rustic dinner table lays a sword, hilariously out of place considering the old woman that seems to own it. Golden, with a polished blade and an intricate hilt decorated with emerald and turquoise-colored gems, it seemed like the kind of object you would find at a renaissance fair, or an antic shop that is definitely selling you bullshit among its few authentic items. The worn off tag hanging by the hilt says $5.

“No returns” says Moira in a sing-songy voice.

With absolutely no idea what the fuck they would do with a sword, they give in to the impulse and rummage through their backpack for five bucks. Giggling to themselves, Alex hands her the bill, already fantasizing about their mother's face once they get home, dragging a sword bigger than them up the stairs. As soon as they pick it up, the gems in the hilt shift and the blade starts to glow in increasingly bright golden light.

“Oh, HELL NO!” Taking a few steps back, they drop the sword to the floor, hitting the sidewalk with a loud clang.

Alex has read the stories, heard the tales. Everybody knows what happens to the chosen ones after they accept the, in this case, golden sword that seals their destiny. The sword shakes and vibrates on the sidewalk until it begins to levitate vertically off the ground, now hovering midair at Alex’s chest level.

“No returns” repeats Moira, a smug smile on her face.

“Yeah, sure… Fuck that!” Alex wasn’t even done yelling before they were sprinting at full speed up the road.

(…)

Enjoying her afternoon tea, Hélène didn’t remember the last time she had been blessed with such a peaceful evening. No dishes in the sink, the whole house freshly cleaned, dinner was taken care of, and the cookies in the oven would be done any minute now. The kids would be here soon too. Smiling at her mug half full, Hélène walked out into the balcony of the second floor, the perfect place to enjoy the last few rays of sunshine and say goodbye to the sun for the day.

It was one of those days where it was easy to see the beauty in everything. The neighborhood’s kids were playing outside, making the most out of summer, and even their high-pitched screams had a nice ring to them. As the sun approached the horizon, she could see some other kid running at full speed up the road, not even bothering to use the sidewalk. Less than 100 meters away, the kid almost tripped and she did her best to suppress the laughter, failing miserably. “That’s so mean, forgive me Goddess” she said, still chuckling.

As they kept closing the distance, she noticed that the sunset glow seemed to follow the kid, as if they had some sort of divine outline shining behind them. Now four or so houses away, whatever this kid was screaming at the top of their lungs seemed to blend in with the high-pitched screams of the toddlers and teenagers playing in the sidewalk below.

“MOM! MOOOOM!”

That’s when Hélène realized that it wasn’t just a random kid, and that it was no divine sunset glow.

“MOM! OPEN THE DOOR!”

That kid running like their life depended on it was none other than Alex, one of her children; and that light behind them was a hovering golden sword chasing them closely behind.

🖋️🩷🪄

[s-queen]

That's actually such a great way to look at active progress and change your perception of failure.

Found on twitter, going to adopt this now

Writer friends, tell me how many WIPs and how many UFOs you have. I have 2 WIPs and [redacted] UFOs (jk it’s around 16 across my three main fandoms)

[s-queen]

Beautiful, so much potential

Person A: "Thank you for coming to get me so quickly, you must be sick of constantly drawing the short straw though, huh?"

Person B: "What do you mean?"

Person A: "Well, ever since you joined, you've always been the one who ends up getting sent to come save me. Before then, everyone always drew lots whenever I got in trouble, and whoever lost was never exactly quiet about how annoying it was to be stuck rescuing a disabled analyst. I'm honestly surprised you haven't filed a complaint yet!"

Person B: "...Is that what they told you?"

[s-queen]

Normal People, Sally Rooney

[s-queen]

You would think that the God of Death has no respect for life. However, nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, out of all the gods, it is the God of Death who has the most respect for life, for all too often have they been forced to watch mortals throw their lives away.