jailforwriter

[jailforwriter]

List of describing exercises to help you improve your descriptions.

As I try to improve my technical writing skills, I've noticed my describing skills are pretty lacking. So, here is a list of description exercises.

Setting Description

Pick a setting and describe it in a way that evokes a positive emotion, then describe the same setting negatively.

Pick a setting and try to describe it by using all of your senses.

Find a setting you've written before and write 500 words of pure description on it.

Describe a tree from the point of view of a character that's feeling a strong emotion, whether they're depressed, frustrated, or excited.

Character Description

Pick one of your characters and write a 500 word description of them.

Write a 500 word description on how your character feels about different people.

Pick 3 different characters and write 200 word descriptions for each of their voices.

Write a 500 word description about how your character looks at different people.

[jailforwriter]

Let's get into...

Look, at the end of the day, writing is word choice. You're choosing which words to put in what order to make other people feel Some Type Of Way about the result. But there are 4 bits of advice perennially swirling about the bowels of writing forums that, misapplied, might make you shit the metaphorical bed of optimal communication, and I very much don't want that for you. I'm staunchly pro-avoiding the literary runs, in fact. So let's get into how.

On the chopping block today is my nemesis:

"Cut all adverbs"

I'm not going to pretend that I don't know why this advice exists. All two reasons it exists, even. Let's break them down:

Too many adverbs: we're all guilty of inundating sentences with adverbs. There are many moving components to scenes, and there's often a desire to express every last one of them. It's not enough to say that the ball rolled down the empty street; the reader simply must know that the ball crept exceedingly slowly, cautiously inching downwardly and toward the eerily empty street. But see, that's clunky. It doesn't flow well, doesn't add anything that couldn't have been expressed more concisely through better wording, and, most importantly, it insults the reader's imagination. By overexplaining, you're taking away their (admittedly limited, but crucial!) agency to picture things themselves. Womp womp.

Redundant adverbs: pretentious people have invented far too many words over the years for anyone to be out here saying "ran quickly". Running is inherently quick, my guy. Otherwise, we'd be saying walking or jogging or promenading (yes, really). This is the moment to break out the thesaurus and realize that sprinted, raced, and dashed all say what you wanted them to say and bring an evocative, nuanced vibe to the sentence. And nuance is tasty. Nuance is the sauce that the quirked up white boy (the sentence) was goated with. So we're better off just saying "ran" and saving that adverb for when it's actually trying to communicate complexities, which we'll expound on once we get into why adverbs are hot, actually.

NOTE: this crops up particularly often in dialogue. "Said angrily" is a dialogue tag that may seem inoffensive — until you remember that snapped exists, and furthermore, so does slamming the door in their face.

So then when/where in the annoyingly nondescript hell should I use adverbs?

Fundamentally, when they add meaning to stuff. To elaborate:

Substance: a sad smile is different from a regular smile, and should be described as such. If you just say "they smiled", people will assume it's a "normal" (i.e. happy) smile and call it day. If someone almost smiles, it's also telling us something different than if we'd said that they didn't smile at all; now we can't tell that they found the joke funny but chose not to smile, and the interaction loses substance. (Moreover, waiting and waiting patiently aren't the same thing, as I'm sure your mom pointed out when she still told you off because you "gave her attitude" by breathing too hard while you waited for her to press play on the VCR.)

Pacing: someone shaking their head slowly is different from them shaking their head at regular, normal human speeds. The latter is simple negation, whereas the former has an element of emotional nuance, of why the hell did they do that that way? Was it anger or regret? Denial, maybe? No idea! But now the reader gets to ponder about it, and that's where interest is born, methinks.

Tone: there aren't too many ways to interpret someone saying "I hate you". It's a pretty straightforward phrase, for the most part, deployed with devastating expertise by schoolchildren whose parents won't give into capitalistic fads and buy them a Stanley cup. But if I were to say "I hate you" softly, then ah. Things change. We have contrasting emotions now. Depth. Is it really an "I love you" in disguise? Am I just mad that you're making me order at the counter when you know I get, like, weird when I have to ask them for no pickles? Perchance. The takeaway here is that the adverb made it so that you can't take the sentence at face-value, and that, unlike pickles, is very satisfying.

The other 3 horsemen of the misconstrued writing advice apocalypse (word choice edition) will be coming soon, so please keep an eye out for seals breaking on ominous scrolls. Happy writing!

[jailforwriter]

There's nothing more important than writing what you want to read. Don't worry about who will like your book. Don't worry about what market it can neatly fit into. Don't cut corners or blunt edges to satisfy an imaginary person who might dislike aspects of your art. It's yours. Treat it as a pure expression of your soul. Compromise is for cowards.

[jailforwriter]

A closer look at...

Okay, so chances are you remember studying negative spaces in middle school art class. As a refresher: "negative spaces" are the blank spaces around and between the subjects of a composition (i.e. the "positive spaces"). It's also likely that you drew a chair one time using this technique and didn't think about it again, but what if I told you that you can apply it to writing, too? (Yeah, I AM still chasing the glorious high of getting an A+ in middle school art class, and no, I haven't come up with a way to make fingerpainting relevant to writing yet. But I will, TRUST.)

Literally how?

By making what isn't said and shown have meaning! Cool, right? See, in the same way that the empty areas around the chair are what make it look like a chair, the empty areas around that conversation/description/explanation are what will make the subtext visible. Or, you know, detectable, since there's no visibility involved in subtext. Or text, for that matter. Huh. ANYWAY—

But I love talking. Doesn't saying stuff say more stuff? Don't I get more stuff per stuff?

You'd think so, but nope! Remember that "less is more" thing your mom used to say so you'd shut up about dinosaur nostril circumferences on the car ride to school? Yeah, it's that. Basically. What we mean by it in the context of writing is that you're adding too much static (extra noise) to your signal, so now we can't hear the song at all. The "song" here is what you're trying to get across, the "signal" is the way you've chosen to do it, and the "static" is that stupid scene they tack on at the end of every movie ever where they overexplain the plot for your uncle who fell asleep half an hour ago. But we are not catering to your uncle. It's good practice to assume that your audience has both the ability to pay attention and the desire not to be babysat. It's polite, even. So let's remember our manners and resist the urge to make characters say some clunky "I'm really angry" line when going like this >:( would suffice. Let the reader interpret stuff sometimes, PLEASE. Make 'em work for conclusions. Participation is what makes things memorable, I promise!

OKAY, fine. I won't try to fill up every space. But when can I use this technique?

Like, all the time, dude. The next time you want someone to give you more details about something, just keep quiet after they answer and they'll feel pressured to— oh, wait. You mean in writing, right? Haha. Gotcha. Alright, let's have a look at the three main places where you can implement this:

Dialogue (what's left unsaid):

Nothing takes the wind out of a conversation's sails like overstating stuff. Seriously, don't underestimate the impact meaningful pauses, omissions, and interruptions can have on an otherwise bloated exchange. For instance:

"Are you okay?" John asked. "No. I'm angry with you. Also, this crossword puzzle represents a breakdown in our communication. Like, subtextually."

There are a few occasions where stating things plainly like that can work, such as when one character is tired of trying and failing to get the other to acknowledge their feelings, but for the most part, there are better ways to go about this. Consider:

"Are you okay?" John asked. Mary pushed her glasses back up her nose with her middle finger, and realizing she'd miscounted the spaces, crossed out her four-letter word for moron.

Yeah, that communicated a whole lot more and avoided the stilted expository language no one would actually use. Yay.

Another way to say things without really saying them is by having two characters talk about one thing when really, they're talking about something else entirely. It's the classic Hallmark movie moment where a father and son talk about baseball while actually talking about their strained relationship. It usually goes something like this:

Father: "The Mets aren't doing too hot this season. No discipline, no teamwork. At this rate they won't make it to the World Series." Son: "Yeah." Father: "Back in my day, the coach would've torn us apart for playing like that. No mercy. Certainly no room for egos." Son: "Maybe that's why no one wants to play for him anymore." Father: "Or maybe players these days don't take responsibility."*

*Assume awkward and combative eye-contact throughout.

So on and so forth. You've heard it a million times before. But the object lessons here are: the lack of anyone expressing how they actually feel, the beating around the bush via metaphor, and the maximizing tension by minimizing words. Negative spaces! Literally! There's a massive chasm between them and everything is negative as hell!

2. Description (what's left unshown):

Look, I'll be the first to advocate for describing what's present in scenes, because quite frankly, I'd have no damn clue what's going on otherwise. It's hard enough having to conjure up mental images from the black-and-white word soup in front of us. Having said that, indulging in a teeny bit of not showing things can be very effective. For instance:

Drawing attention to the scuff marks on the floor and making me infer that there used to be a second chair there is much more immersive than showing me the chair and having someone mention that no one sits there anymore.

Brains don't like empty spaces. They feel compelled to fill them. So let them! Readers will feel more engaged that way, and will be pretty much guaranteed to ask themselves more questions and get themselves more invested in the situation than if you'd simply filled in the blanks with clutter.

3. Action (what is left undone):

Much like how what you didn't say to your best friend that one time she wore a neon leotard to school says a lot about you, what you didn't do to keep her from slipping in the mud and ruining it forever communicates entire essays about your values, qualities, upbringing, and all those backstory details that make online personality quizzes so fun. To illustrate this:

The phone is ringing. It's someone your character hates. They could opt for action and take the call, perhaps cuss the other person out for good measure, but crucially, they could also opt out of the action. They don't have to take the call. In fact, not doing so might express an even deeper dislike than picking up and yelling would. It's all about using the "negative space" around the untaken action to define the subject at the core of the conflict, which in this case is anger.

Now imagine all the other subtle ways in which you could implement this! A king who doesn't rise when someone enters the throne room. A person lingering at the door and choosing not to knock. Someone getting a letter and deciding not to open it. The possibilities are endless, and there are plenty of empty spaces around them to play with. Yay.

4. Plot (what is left unexplained):

This one is a bit of a bonus observation, since it's not as immediately appreciable as the rest, but please don't be afraid to leave some gaps between plot points! Those empty ("negative") spaces are where the readers will trace their lines to connect the dots! Let them piece together the scraps of backstory and build your character up themselves; I promise you seeded everything well enough for them to arrive at the right conclusion unaided. Give them (and yourself!) some credit, dude.

In summary: emptiness can be cool and useful, and you should consider not saying/doing/showing the thing sometimes.

Happy writing!

[jailforwriter]

Subtext Through Sentence Structure in Writing

Ever noticed how a character’s true feelings can be hinted at without them saying a word? That’s the magic of sentence structure—a subtle tool to convey emotions, tension, and subtext in a way that feels natural. It’s all about how you arrange your words. Here’s how you can use it to give your writing extra depth:

1. Anaphora (Repetition for Emphasis)

Anaphora is the repetition of the same word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses. It can create a rhythm, emphasize a point, or show a character’s emotional state. It's like a mantra or a sense of growing obsession in thought.

Example: "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending. I can’t keep lying to myself."

Here, the repetition of “I can’t” highlights the character’s frustration, their internal conflict, and emotional breakdown. The more it repeats, the more you feel their emotional weight.

2. Asyndeton (Omitting Conjunctions for Speed or Chaos)

Asyndeton is when you deliberately leave out conjunctions (like and, or, but) to create a fast-paced, almost frantic effect. This can be great for moments of tension, confusion, or a character’s overwhelmed state.

Example: "She ran through the streets—pushing past crowds, dodging vendors, barely noticing the rain."

By skipping “and” and breaking up the flow, the reader feels the character’s urgency, the rush of the moment. It mimics the quickness of their thoughts and actions.

3. Choppy, Fractured Sentences for Internal Chaos

When a character is dealing with inner turmoil, sometimes their thoughts don’t flow smoothly. Fractured sentences—choppy, disjointed—can show their disarray or emotional breakdown.

Example: "Why did I do that? What was I thinking? No. No, I—I can’t—I can’t fix this."

This kind of sentence structure mimics the chaotic, fragmented thoughts of someone who’s in distress. The disconnection reflects their internal turmoil.

4. Polysyndeton (Overuse of Conjunctions for Overwhelming Effect)

Polysyndeton is when you overuse conjunctions like “and” or “but,” giving a sentence a heavier, more drawn-out feeling. It can show a character’s exhaustion, hesitation, or even their growing tension as they try to process a situation.

Example: "He wanted to scream, and cry, and punch something, and tear everything apart until it made sense."

The repeated use of “and” here conveys the overwhelming nature of the character’s feelings, as if everything is piling on top of each other, adding to the emotional overload.

5. Ellipsis for Unspoken Thoughts or Tension

Ellipses (the ...) can be used to indicate something unsaid—unfinished thoughts, unspoken tension, or the sense that something is being withheld. This subtle tool adds layers to your writing, letting the reader feel the weight of what’s not said.

Example: "She looked at him... but said nothing."

The silence here speaks volumes. It’s not just that she’s not speaking—it’s the unspoken tension between them that gives this line its emotional weight.

TL;DR:

Anaphora = Repeating for emphasis, building emotional weight.

Asyndeton = Omitting conjunctions to show speed, urgency, or chaos.

Choppy sentences = Fractured thoughts or emotional breakdowns.

Polysyndeton = Overwhelming feelings through too many conjunctions.

Ellipses = Showing subtext through what’s unsaid or withheld.

[jailforwriter]

Let's delve into...

Look, I know you don't like to fail. I KNOW. Neither do I. But do you know who will—and should—fail a lot? YES, your characters! Failure does all the nifty things writing teachers promise us will keep the story interesting: raise the stakes, bring emotions to a boil, and keep things from stagnating and/or getting predictable. Triumphs have their place, and should be present (unless you enjoy metaphorically kicking your readers in the shins, which, hey, more power to you!) but your characters can't always win. That's boring, and unfortunately, boring is the biggest noncriminal sin in entertainment. The good news is that, when your character does win, their previous failure is going to make it all the more satisfying. Doesn't that make you want to nail that failure for maximum improvability? (Hey I HEARD YOU rolling your eyes just now. Rhetorical questions are NOT cringe. Rude.)

So, what do I mean by a "good failure"?

Basically, when they mess up naturally, because of their own choices, in a way that reflects their flaws. "But wait," I hear you say, "does that exclude the possibility of an external circumstance making for a good catalysts for failure?" Nope! There are no hard and fast rules in writing, and shit does, indeed, just happen sometimes. Happen poignantly, even. But your character can't be entirely blameless in every scenario because then things get *taps on chalkboard* BORING. Seriously, consequences are so cool, I promise.

Okay then, why do I want a good failure?

Emotional resonance: do you remember that time you studied hard and still failed the test? Betcha that felt real bad. Yeah, it's that, but magnified by however many people died (or were sad about it! The stakes don't always need to be cataclysmic).

Catalyst for organic growth: do you remember how failing that test made you decide never to pull an all-nighter cramming again? Perhaps even reassess your relationship with God, your identity, and your place in the universe? Yep. And it felt earned, too. Huh.

Narrative depth: how mad were your parents about that test? And how much did it suck getting your Nintendo taken away because of it? That was compelling, realistic tension, baby! It put you right on the—unfun, but necessary—path to making that eventual success feel meaningful. Yay.

Relatability: you know, I felt kinda bad writing all that stuff about how failing that test wrecked you. Because I have empathy, certainly, but also because I've been there too! Mistakes are human, and few things are more effective at humanizing someone than making them an honorary cringefail loser. (This holds especially true if they're usually the god king of being hot and correct, btw.)

Fine, so how do I go about writing that?

Foreshadowing: why, yes, everything DOES always come back to foreshadowing. Good catch! See, foreshadowing marks the difference between a failure being contrived and awkward, and landing because it was tragically inevitable. The character has been making bad decisions that will come back to bite them all book, and the time for gleaning lessons from the teeth marks on their ass is now.

Make the failure specific and personal: sure, failing a test is a universal experience, but failing the most important test ever conceived in the history of mankind and if you fail your mom will hate you and your girlfriend will leave you and you'll go bald isn't. Make 'em feel it where it hurts!

Consequences: internal or external, they better be tailormade to catalyze change. Be it damaged interpersonal relationships or crippling self-doubt, they better not walk away from their mess-up willing to do it again. (NOTE: exceptions may apply in negative character arcs, but even then, the next time they make that mistake, it shouldn't be the exact same one again. It should be so, so much worse.)

Redemption: following on from the last point—make it a turning point! Show me how things are fifty kinds of broken now and how your character plans on rebuilding the mess using the tools they just got from chucking the toolbox full-tilt at their lives.

Examples be upon ye:

Simba in The Lion King: hopefully we can all agree that thinking you caused your father's death is a valid reason to crash out. However, the important thing here is that the crash-out was not eternal. It allowed for an emotional development cooldown period, and when it did end, empowered Simba to make his triumphant return all the more triumphant. Do you think smacking his geriatric uncle off a mountain would've been half as hot if his emotional arc and subsequent redemption had been underbaked? No. Literally. C'mon, lock in.

Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender: ahh yes, the king of redemption arcs, which kinda also makes him the king of cringefailing (both externally and internally! Very illustrative, thank you, Zuko). But I bet you don't just remember his struggle with capturing Aang. In fact, I'd bet quite a few buckaroos what you most remember is his struggle with honor. Could it be because you're grateful for what each setback did to help him find his? What about how they taught him that true honor was internally cultivated rather than externally conferred? And the fact that he chose to help the person whom he'd vowed to destroy in order to get it, for which he used the tools he painstakingly won throughout his arc? Hmm. Perchance. See what I mean? It just feels right when things come full circle, and boy is a good failure shaped like zero!

Ultimately, I hope you found something useful here and that, the next time you're down in the trenches of narrative predictability and character stagnation, you consider pissing in their metaphorical coffees. Thank you!

Happy writing!

[jailforwriter]

writing is creating a world where everything is exactly the same as ours except you can bleach black hair platinum blonde in 30 minutes because you need your character to look hot for the next scene

[jailforwriter]

Anyone looking for beta readers?

Hi all!

I've been trying to find beta readers for an original project for a while now and it's been not the most fruitful endeavor lol. If anyone would like to do a manuscript exchange (i.e. if you've also got a WIP you'd like constructively critiqued and would be willing to constructively critique mine in exchange) please feel free to message me! I read more or less anything, no genre discrimination here lol, but please do keep in mind that my work has strong Horror elements, so unfortunately I will have to request 18+ readers only. Otherwise, please consider shooting me a message to see if we'd be a good fit :)

Thank you!

[jailforwriter]

Symbolism Associated With Flowers For Writers

Acacia: Since ancient times, acacia has been associated with purity and innocence. It is also a symbol of resurrection and new beginnings.

Amaryllis: Amaryllis is a symbol of passion and desire. It is also associated with strength and courage.

Anemone: Anemone is a symbol of grief and sorrow. It is also associated with hope and new beginnings.

Azalea: Azalea is a symbol of love, passion, and desire. It is also associated with beauty and elegance.

Carnation: Carnation is a symbol of love, affection, and appreciation. It is also associated with motherhood and childbirth.

Chrysanthemum: Chrysanthemum is a symbol of longevity, happiness, and good luck. It is also associated with death and mourning.

Daisy: Daisy is a symbol of innocence, purity, and simplicity. It is also associated with childhood and new beginnings.

Delphinium: Delphinium is a symbol of wisdom, knowledge, and understanding. It is also associated with royalty and nobility

Frangipani: Frangipani is a symbol of love, passion, and desire. It is also associated with beauty and elegance.

Gardenia: Gardenia is a symbol of purity, innocence, and grace. It is also associated with love and admiration.

Gerbera Daisy: Gerbera daisy is a symbol of new beginnings, happiness, and joy. It is also associated with optimism and hope.

Hyacinth: Hyacinth is a symbol of love, passion, and desire. It is also associated with grief and sorrow.

Iris: Iris is a symbol of faith, hope, and wisdom. It is also associated with royalty and nobility.

Lily: Lily is a symbol of purity, innocence, and chastity. It is also associated with resurrection and new beginnings.

Lily of the Valley: Lily of the valley is a symbol of purity, innocence, and sweetness. It is also associated with new beginnings and springtime.

Magnolia: Magnolia is a symbol of love, beauty, and elegance. It is also associated with femininity and motherhood.

Orchid: Orchid is a symbol of love, passion, and desire. It is also associated with beauty, rarity, and luxury.

Rose: Rose is the most popular flower in the world and has a wide range of symbolism. It can symbolize love, passion, desire, beauty, romance, friendship, gratitude, and respect.

Tulip: Tulip is a symbol of love, passion, and desire. It is also associated with springtime and new beginnings.

Why Symbolism With Flowers Is Important For Writers

Flowers can be used to foreshadow events or themes in a story. For example, a writer might use a white rose to foreshadow a character's death, or a red rose to foreshadow a romantic encounter.

Flowers can be used to represent characters' emotions or motivations. For example, a character who is feeling sad might be described as holding a wilted flower, or a character who is feeling passionate might be described as surrounded by roses.

Flowers can be used to create symbolism that is specific to a particular culture or region. For example, in some cultures, the lotus flower is a symbol of purity and enlightenment, while in other cultures, it is a symbol of death and rebirth.

[jailforwriter]

writers should be given honorary medical degrees imo because at this point i genuinely believe i know more about the physiological effects of slowly bleeding out from a concealed stab wound than your average physician

[jailforwriter]

If you want to write a dumb little story with a dumb little plot and ridiculously silly characters. No one's stopping you. Genuinely, no one should be allowed to stop you. Write that dumb story with your whole heart and don't hold back.

[jailforwriter]

I think the closest thing I‘ll ever accept as a proof of god‘s existence are fix-it fanfictions. Jesus sounds great and all - but have you ever had a post canon fanfic that was so well written that it sounded like it was actually canon and you felt as if all your wounds were suddenly healed?? THAT‘S a religious experience if there ever was one, if you ask me.

[jailforwriter]

[jailforwriter]

Getting inspired to write is actually really easy! All you need to do is be the busiest you've ever been in your entire life and as far away from a computer as humanly possible. Hope this helps 🥰

[jailforwriter]

The Oracle (and why prophesy in storytelling doesn't have to suck)

You know what most people hate to see in their Fantasy stories? Prophesy. You know what's really fun to pick apart and analyze and makes for some delicious dramatic irony when handled properly? Prophesy.

How come? Well, for one, The Chosen One trope is a little overused. Readers tire of it quite quickly nowadays. Does that mean that it's bad and you should avoid it at all costs? Haha no. We're not Sith. We don't deal in absolutes. What it does mean is that you'll have to get really clever to justify that choice, narratively speaking, and that even then, some readers might still dislike it on principle. The inevitability of prophesy can often deter from our enjoyment of it, and we run the risk of it falling flat if it's not engaging enough.

Which is why I'm advocating for Prophesy Lite™️ (aka The Oracle character archetype) and its untold engagement potential! This business is no longer about ancient scripture handed down from generation to generation coming to wreck your protagonist's shit (boring). All the wrecking shall henceforth be done by one annoying creep only (fun).

By assigning The Oracle this role, we get to pump them full of all sorts of interesting human quirks, such as being a manipulator who purposefully miscommunicates messages, or being a bad public speaker who accidentally miscommunicates messages. Think the three witches in Macbeth. Either way, we're in for a great deal of misinterpretation and ethical conundrums, neither of which would've been half as fun from an ancient stone slab, now would they?

So what does The Oracle do, exactly?

Tergiversate. Like, everything, all the time. They're there to lead everyone down the wrong path via the three most annoying "s" words: semantics, sophistries, and symbolism (derogatory). They may or may not get high on fumes while doing so, Pythia-style, but there are a handful of things on the job description that they must comply with to qualify for the position:

Know stuff: mystical stuff, not just any stuff. The kind of stuff your character couldn't just find in the library. We're talking divine wisdom and esoteric truths of enlightenment here.

Foretelling: okay, so they know stuff. Now, we need them to make that everyone else's problem. For that, they need to prophesize.

Insight: this is the main reason why we didn't just use a cool ancient rhyme. It's because our dear Oracle can offer their own biased advice – riddled with deceit – and make everything worse.

Enigmatic: they gotta be at least a little weird, okay? They're one with the universe from 9 to 5, there's no way they can just integrate into society whenever they want because we need them to. Bonus points if they talk weirdly, too, so no one quite understands what they mean at any given moment, leading to even more hilarity.

Pals with God (optional): ideally, yes. In practice? Well, just imagine all the fun stuff you could have them do if they're only pretending to be a phone for the Sky People.

Why did this merit a whole human person?

Are you still not convinced that this human being couldn't just have been an email? Fine, let's look at other ways in which they could earn their keep:

Ethical spouting machine: remember how we established that they can introduce their own biased interpretations into their prophecies? Well, they also happen to have a mouth, and can therefore cause great emotional turmoil in your protagonist if they decide to pick their moral compass apart with it.

Manipulable: you thought your protagonist was the only one who could be manipulated? Ha ha. No. Your Big Bad is pulling at the Oracle's strings and they don't even know it! Or do they? Idk man, it's your story. Sounds real interesting though. I'd read that.

Potential allyship: unlike a slab of carved stone, this Oracle may establish cute lil' bonds with your other characters, making whatever you choose to do with them have emotional stakes, and we should always raise the emotional stakes where we can.

People grow: and your Oracle is a people, so we can certainly have them grow better. Or worse. Negative growth is also growth. They're a cool villain waiting to happen, is all I'm gonna say.

Subverting expectations since circa 4000 B.C.: I know Pop Culture has made us hate the term "subverting expectations", but contrary to what Hollywood seems to think, it can be done properly. One such way is via the Oracle, who, if we write them that way, can be less ominous and more babygirl. They maybe even down to help our protagonist avoid what should've been an unavoidable fate.

There you go! You can have your proverbial cake and eat it, too, so long as you make that cake (prophesy) very intricate and its baker (prophet) a little wacky. Thanks for reading!

Happy writing!

[jailforwriter]

[jailforwriter]