GUYS DO NOT GIVE YOUR MANUSCRIPT TO AN AI THIS IS A BAD IDEA ON EVERY LEVEL DON'T DO IT
original tweet from @jamesjyu reads: "We launch Shrink Ray today on Sudowrite! Upload your manuscript and get loglines, blurbs, synopsis, and full outlines automatically. Takes a ton of legwork out of book marketing. Below the tweet are two images of the program."
original quote tweet from @sudowrite reads: "New in Sudowrite: Upload your whole novel/script, get instant longlines (sic), blurbs, synopsis, and outline!"
tweet from @FantasyFaction reads: "Oh jeez! Bad bad, very bad! Writers DO NOT willingly give your manuscript to an AI so it can "learn" by stealing your work! I know blurbs and synopses are hard, but PLEASE do not do this! - JI 🐉
(stolen from ML Brennan & Sravani Hotha so I can include alt text)"
obsessed with harvey at the y2 luau. absolutely busting ass with this quirked up jpeg shuffle. hes such a shut-in i bet this was like a magical girl transformation for him. the townsfolk see him walk onto the dance floor and are like ohhhh shit peepaws about to bust it down narsty style. fuck it UP white boy. the last ditch effort of a swagless migratory bird throwing back his ENTIRE pussy to attract a mate. im so obsessed with him you dont understa
I’ve seen this trend with Azula but I would really like to see the same thing with the rest of the cast, specifically Katara and Suki. Heavy on Suki, considering how traumatic it must have been being thrown into a maximum security prison presumably for the rest of your life at only 15, and slowly lose hope of ever escaping if not for Kyoshi :(
Okay gonna skedaddle now thanks for coming to my TED talk
"You know," Thomas starts, putting the flowers down on the sand as he rolls his sleeves up. "How you yelled at me, back in the Glade, because I wasn't helping out?"
A breeze ruffles his hair, longer than it was a year ago, and the tang of salt doesn't register anymore. "I know, I know. You technically didn't yell. To be fair, I was new, and it's not like I had someone showing me the ropes."
He kneels on the ground, in front of where the tombstone stood. This wasn't the boulder that Vince had set up in the beginning of Safe Haven's existence--this was smaller, flatter, bordering on where the sand meets the dirt. "Now, I feel like all I'm doing with these kids is showing the ropes."
Busying himself with rearranging the flowers, he rubs his thumb on a golden petal idly. "They're doing fine. Between me and the others, things are getting done. Maybe not as efficiently if you were here, but we're trying." He pauses. "I'm trying."
Thomas' voice doesn't shake, not anymore. How can it? It's just him and Newt. His voice never shakes with Newt.
Waves crash somewhere behind him. A bird chirps, its tune lively and bright. The world continues to spin, and it's a long moment before he speaks again.
"I'm throwing myself into work, Newt." His gaze tilts skywards. "I'm working, aren't I? I build homes, I teach, I train the others. There's food, so much of it, enough for years and for anyone who wants to start a family. Last night, I woke up because people were laughing so loud near my bed--laughing. I couldn't even get mad."
Careful not to mess up the floral arrangement, Thomas leans forward slowly until his forehead is pressed right up against the slab, stone cool to the touch. "How busy?" he wonders. "How busy do I need to be until this gets better? How much more do I need to do before it starts to get better? How much more do I need to give?"
When he doesn't get an answer, Thomas lets his eyes slip close. "I'm busy, Newt. I'm busy, and I'm trying, and I'm so fucking sad."
Eventually, Thomas raises his head. He presses his lips to the top of the tombstone, smiling wryly to himself. "At least I can actually reach the top of your head like this, right?"
He gets on his feet, brushing the sand off of his pants, feeling the sun beat relentlessly down on his skin. "Tomorrow, then. Maybe it'll get better tomorrow."
“If you’ve ever studied mortal age cartoons, you’ll remember this one. A coyote was always plotting the demise of a smirking long-necked bird. The coyote never succeeded; instead, his plans always backfired. He would blow up, or get shot, or splat from a ridiculous height.
And it was funny.
Because no matter how deadly his failure, he was always back in the next scene, as if there were a revival center just beyond the edge of the animation cell.
I’ve seen human foibles that have resulted in temporary maiming or momentary loss of life. People stumble into manholes, are hit by falling objects, trip into the paths of speeding vehicles.
And when it happens, people laugh, because no matter how gruesome the event, that person, just like the coyote, will be back in a day or two, as good as new, and no worse—or wiser—for the wear.
Immortality has turned us all into cartoons.”
~ Scythe
Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.
Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!