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greenjudy · 6 days
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I know your ask box is probably full, so I totally get it if you don't get to this anytime soon, but I need some help.
I'm a sixteen year old aspiring writer with ADHD and anxiety. My writing patterns are horrible. I go months without writing then spit out a hundred pages. I've been writing since I was eight and I've never finished a story longer than a few thousand words because I physically cannot force myself to write in order, though I can eventually fill in the gaps (if I'm given a few months).
I'm trying my best, but it feels like my best isn't good enough for the world. Do you (or any other successful writers you know) have similar problems? Or is this something you overcome with time? Basically wondering if there's hope of me being successful despite these traits. Thanks!
You're sixteen. The reason why the world isn't filled with successful sixteen year old novelists is we were all (or most of us) trying to figure out how to do the writing thing in bursts and spurts and with dozens of beginnings and not a lot of endings, and we have some characters over here and some story over there and we can't work out how to make them align and work together. And so on and so forth.
You are not a failure if you haven't published a Hugo-award winning trilogy by the time you're twenty. You're an egg that hasn't even finished hatching.
Write. Read everything you can. Write more. Finish some short stories. Read more. Write more. Experience some life. Finish longer things. You'll get there. It's not a race. It's a way to learn.
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greenjudy · 6 days
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algorithmic social media is a tour bus in hell and you are getting carsick
These vehicles are designed to elicit bad feelings in us because those feelings drive our engagement. They are hard to turn off, hard to ignore. We feel compelled to jump in or morbidly driven to keep clicking on ahead.
This is wholly for the profit of the shareholders of the vehicles.
It does us absolutely zero good. Worse than that, it's poisoning us.
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greenjudy · 21 days
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Outstanding performance by Dominique Dodge of “Mrs. Judge,” a Carolan tune. Take a listen--she deserves your ear. :) 
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greenjudy · 25 days
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SECRET Message in Supreme Court Trump Decision Has MAJOR Implications
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greenjudy · 1 month
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Aleph Major, the Royal Senior Delf Mars, in his new winter coat.
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greenjudy · 1 month
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How Dropshipping Ruined Online Shopping
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greenjudy · 1 month
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It's ready to ship.
The fruit of more than 5 years of searching, saving, waiting. A Starfish Glencoe in maple: 34 strings, staved back construction, Camac levers, gut-strung. Tension high for a lever harp, designed for the Scottish clarsach tradition, not the lower-tension Irish tradition. Maple for purity of tone and faster decay, allowing for better articulation, especially on the bass end.
I've been low-key in mourning for my spectacular old Pratt Chamber Harp, which I was privileged to own and play for about 8 years, and finally had to give up because of where I live--super, super remote, in a tiny space with unpredictable heat and humidity.
This baby is half the weight of the Pratt and a fraction of the size, with a ton of projective power. It will fit in the back seat of a car and the corner of my room. I can't wait to hear its voice.
Next: it takes a journey from Ballachulish. Pouring rain here, so we are in a holding pattern for the next few weeks.
When it arrives, I'll record some noodling on it; don't expect much, I only play for myself, but it might be fun to hear how it sounds.
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greenjudy · 1 month
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Debaser by D.S. & Durga: Midgar shuffle
…don’t know about you, but I am un CHIEN! Andalusien! --Black Francis
I picked up a number of samples by the indie perfumer D.S. & Durga, including “Steamed Rainbow,” “Deep Dark Vanilla,” “Pistachio,” and this one. Debaser is my favorite so far.
Online reviews are mixed. The famous and eloquent Kafkaesque likes this, but argues an incongruity in its name; while Debaser cites the 1989 Pixies tune, the Black Francis screech is nowhere to be found in this pleasant, fig-based fragrance, powdered with a little iris, warmed up with tonka and coconut, sweetened with pear, and something slightly spicy and woody underneath. Other reviewers have taken up this theme, confused by the edgy name, complaining, even, about false advertising. Many allusions to green accords, garden wanders, fresh meadows, and so forth; all the traditional imagery of the mainstream mind as it seeks an exit from the ordinary.
I smell these described notes, certainly—the milky fig, the coconut, not too sweet but very present; the bassy tonka, the blonde wood, the iris and the moss all cutting through the lactones and preventing them from getting insipid.
But I am not transported to a bosky grove or dew-laden meadow: this fragrance is no portal to Narnia.
It's a little like one of those reversible pictures--a goose one way, an old lady another; if you focus too much on the fig and all its lacy green assumptions, you miss the city.
Because the thing is I get a very specific hit of leather jacket—no, vinyl… no, leather after all, a biker jacket, nice and bulky, the kind you wear as armor for the subway. The jacket you wear as you stand in the corner of the mechanics’ garage when your moto goes tits-up. The one you have on as you chew on a pear-flavored hard candy, lounging, inconspicuous, waiting for that guy on your docket--the dumb one, the weak link--to come out of the liquor store and lead you to your real quarry.
The one you wear when even the rain feels dirty.
The longer I had Debaser on, the more the affect crystallized: it’s Midgar, buddy. If this name means nothing to you, don’t worry. Just drop in the degraded urban environment of your choice, but fill it with the joy and optimism peculiar to that space, the joy of catching the last train, the joy of spicy red oil noodles, the joy of sarcastic jokes with your partner in crime.
For friends of mine who know where Midgar is—thus what I mean by citing it—I should warn you that depending on your skin chemistry, you may have to traverse an astonishing amount of coconut before the leather jacket, the train, the slanting light all come out to play. You may also find the pear alienating. Me, I like it; it’s artificial, but it’s not pretending. You keep the little tin of those little pear-flavored jewels in the pocket of that leather jacket and you watch the sun track across the hoardings as you listen to the buskers, taking your time.
It’s a good day.
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greenjudy · 2 months
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greenjudy · 3 months
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In recent things I've seen, it functions almost like stage directions or a film script scene heading: "EXT. BROOKLYN DINER - NIGHT"
pov youre posting about povs
i am sure this has been talked about by many before (and also this is not veiled complaint from chuck i really am just observing and interested) but it is FASCINATING to watch real time evolution of language from younger buckaroos who do not seem to know what 'POV' means online
amount of online videos that say 'pov' and are not actually from the point of view they are describing is not just a lot, it is probably MORE often than not. feels like one of the fastest changes in word meaning i have ever seen
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greenjudy · 3 months
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book rec: Doppleganger
If the Naomi be Klein you're doing just fine If the Naomi be Wolf Oh, buddy. Oooof.
I'm about a third of the way through this and finding it a surprisingly successful amalgam of personal reflection and sharp observation about some both terrible and unavoidable shit to do with modern life, that is to say, life online. It's got an aesthetically pleasing way of taking Klein's own funny/lamentable/creepy problem of mistaken identity (everyone conflates her with once-admired feminist author, now wingnut antivaxxer conspiracy theorist Naomi Wolf) and using it to push out towards a phenomenon that is not just a problem for celebrity authors, but for everyone: your image has in fact been captured and is being used in ways that are ultimately inimical to you. As she's mapping this out, she also clarifies the paranoid turn in modern thought that has brought us so many conspiracy theories--helping us to see why they flourish and how we might think in this space without falling prey to them.
I'll write a follow-up review when I have finished this book.
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greenjudy · 3 months
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An Upper-Class Southern British Accent, 1673 - 2023
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greenjudy · 3 months
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art tips
don't call what you create "content". regardless of what it is. that's the devil talking. call it art, call it writing, call it music, call it analysis, call it editing, literally just call it what it is
I was going to put other things but oh my god please just don't call yourself a "content creator". you are a person you are making art / writing / music / etc you are an artist an author a musician
you are not an Image Generator For Clicks And Views. please. allow yourself to connect with your work by naming it properly and acknowledging yourself in kind
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greenjudy · 3 months
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one of the only good things about modern life: bird bath cam
Thinking about how Percy Bysshe Shelley would have been riveted by birdbath and watering hole cams
This gentleman would watch a birdbath cam in Michigan or Aix-en-Provence with tears in his eyes
Do you not think he would have a whole birdbath-cam-poetry volume? Because he very obviously would
Do you not think he would be following with passionate interest the doings in the nest of the ospreys on the Finnish Meri Kotka YouTube channel?
The ospreys, the juncos, the blackbirds!
O cloud, o time, o bead of dew light-filled
shining suspended on talon, on wing:
what to that my betrayed beating heart?
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greenjudy · 4 months
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The Band Geeks play Roundabout (Quarantine Edition)
Remember?
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greenjudy · 4 months
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look how cleanly he changes the angle of approach, stance always triangular, swiftly shifted from right shoulder in front as he comes in to left shoulder as he finishes his turn beside his opponent. also note the way he uses the hilt of his own sword on the disarm
so crispy
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greenjudy · 4 months
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Ensemble Sangineto in the Dusty Strings Harp Workshop
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