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What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect–what if she took him in?

Petunia was jealous, selfish and vicious. We will not pretend she wasn’t. She looked at that boy on her doorstep and thought about her Dudders, barely a month older than this boy. She looked at his eyes and her stomach turned over and over. (Severus Snape saved Harry’s life for his eyes. Let’s have Petunia save it despite them).

Let’s tell a story where Petunia Dursley found a baby boy on her doorstep and hated his eyes–she hated them. She took him in and fed him and changed him and got him his shots, and she hated his eyes up until the day she looked at the boy and saw her nephew, not her sister’s shadow. When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a toy car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce.

Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support.

They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.

Harry helped him with his homework, snapped out razored wit in classrooms when bullies decided to make Dudley the butt of anything; Harry cornered Dudley in their tiny cramped kitchen and called him smart, and clever, and ‘better ‘n all those jerks anyway’ on the days Dudley believed it least.

Dudley walked Harry to school and back, to his advanced classes and past the dumpsters, and grinned, big and slow and not dumb at all, at anyone who tried to mess with them.

But was that how Petunia got the news? Her husband complained about owls and staring cats all day long and in the morning Petunia found a little tyke on her doorsep. This was how the wizarding world chose to give the awful news to Lily Potter’s big sister: a letter, tucked in beside a baby boy with her sister’s eyes.

There were no Potters left. Petunia was the one who had to arrange the funeral. She had them both buried in Godric’s Hollow. Lily had chosen her world and Petunia wouldn’t steal her from it, not even in death. The wizarding world had gotten her sister killed; they could stand in that cold little wizard town and mourn by the old stone.

(Petunia would curl up with a big mug of hot tea and a little bit of vodka, when her boys were safely asleep, and toast her sister’s vanished ghost. Her nephew called her ‘Tune’ not 'Tuney,’ and it only broke her heart some days.

Before Harry was even three, she would look at his green eyes tracking a flight of geese or blinking mischieviously back at her and she would not think 'you have your mother’s eyes.’

A wise old man had left a little boy on her doorstep with her sister’s eyes. Petunia raised a young man who had eyes of his very own).

Petunia snapped and burnt the eggs at breakfast. She worked too hard and knew all the neighbors’ worst secrets. Her bedtime stories didn’t quite teach the morals growing boys ought to learn: be suspicious, be wary; someone is probably out to get you. You owe no one your kindness. Knowledge is power and let no one know you have it. If you get can get away with it, then the rule is probably meant for breaking.

Harry grew up loved. Petunia still ran when the letters came. This was her nephew, and this world, this letter, these eyes, had killed her sister. When Hagrid came and knocked down the door of some poor roadside motel, Petunia stood in front of both her boys, shaking. When Hagrid offered Harry a squashed birthday cake with big, kind, clumsy hands, he reminded Harry more than anything of his cousin.

His aunt was still shaking but Harry, eleven years and eight minutes old, decided that any world that had people like his big cousin in it couldn’t be all bad. “I want to go,” Harry told his aunt and he promised to come home.

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10 Tips for Developing a Daily Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Scrivener, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an award-winning writing app designed to help you get writing and keep writing. Here, Scrivener user and first time Camper, Bookstagrammer, aspiring author, and visual storyteller Yeldah Yousfi shares her tips on how to write consistently:

Writing consistently is one of the most important habits to cultivate if you want to become a better writer and reach your Camp NaNoWriMo target. However, while developing a habit of daily writing practice is useful for exercising your writing skills, it can be difficult to maintain.

Here are ten tips that I personally use for developing a habit of writing consistently every day:

1. Set a schedule. 

One of the most important steps to developing a consistent writing habit is to set a schedule. Set aside a specific time every day that you can dedicate to writing—even if you just try this during Camp. This will help you to make writing a routine part of your day, and it will also make it easier to stay motivated and avoid procrastination.

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How to Use Meal Scenes to Develop Characters, Relationships, and Your World

Worldbuilding can sound complicated, but why not make it a little more simple by focusing on food? It may be the domestic touch you need! NaNo Participant Lacey Pfalz talks about using meal scenes to develop your world and your characters.

There’s one thing that remains a universal human truth: we love food! While our perspectives on food might differ, people all across the globe gather together during mealtimes — and thus, mealtimes are made memorable.

Meal scenes can also help your story in a few key ways, especially if it’s fantasy, science fiction or historical fiction.

Keep reading

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"Don’t love what you wrote? Keep writing. The goal of NaNoWriMo is words, not editing. That part comes later."

— India Hill Brown is an author with a passion for writing, reading, and all things literary. Her debut novel, The Forgotten Girl, has been nominated for an NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work in Youth/Teens and a 2020 ALSC Notable Children’s Book. She graduated from Claflin University with a Bachelor’s Degree in Mass Communications and with a Concentration in Print Journalism. In her spare time, she can be found curling up with a good book, a hot drink, and a snack. A self-proclaimed southern belle, she lives in the Carolinas with her husband and two sons.

Check out India on Twitter, Instagram, or Youtube!

Read more camp care packages here!

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I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

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Your daily dose of cat memes

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Throwback thursday to when I was like 12 and I was putting out new writing DAILY...... Like entire Chapters of my then-current wips just, over an afternoon. What the fuck was I on

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Romantic things that make my insides curl up

A reading to B as B falls asleep on their shoulder

Forehead touching. (this literally drives me insane!!!)

Confessing while drunk (idk what it is in books and fanfics but I love it sm)

A absent mindedly holding B's hand and intertwining their fingers tigether

Dancing in the rain

ANYTHING ROMANTIC IN THE RAIN

Dancing anywhere is just so 😻💞

A's friends having to full on explain that A is 100% in love with B

B holding onto A's hand as they squeeze through a crowd

Confessions with flowers 🤭

Holding the umbrella together

Accidental hand touching (ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY HAVEN'T GOT TOGETHER YET)

"Your hands are cold. Let me warm them up."

Secret meetings!!!

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😭😭😭

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Take care of me while I'm gone, okay?

Characters are from CTC (Iris plush is still available on Makeship until 7/21!)

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Writer’s culture is agonizing for weeks over how to describe the most mundane detail and then coming up with the best sentence you’ve ever written while brushing your teeth

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this was a great read. “Laziness Does Not Exist” by Devon Price

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Don't you sometimes get an absolutely extrodinary, mind blowing, such an awesome idea for a story, but you just don't have enough skill level to pull it off?

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Advice for Creating a Magic System

As a fantasy author, I thought I'd share my 5 tips for creating a captivating magic system.

1. Are you writing low fantasy or high fantasy?

Firstly, it's good to know from the get-go whether you're creating a magic system for a low fantasy or high fantasy story.

Low fantasy doesn't necessarily mean there are less fantastical elements or that the story has to take place in a version of the real world. Low fantasy simply indicates that the fantasy elements/magic is not commonplace in that world. Magic and other fantasy elements exist, but only a privy few know about it.

Examples of low fantasy stories include Harry Potter by She Who Shall Not be Named, the Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare, Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo, Twilight by Stephenie Meyer and my book To Wear A Crown.

High fantasy, on the other hand, indicates that the fantastical elements and magic are known about and commonplace in that world. The people of the world know that magic exists, that there are fantastical beings, other races etc.

Examples of high fantasy stories include Eragon by Christopher Paolini, Crescent City by Sarah J Maas, The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R Tolkien, and Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard.

2. Hard magic systems vs soft magic systems

The next thing that's vital to decide is whether you're creating a hard or soft magic system.

A hard magic system has built-in limitations. There are certain things that magic can do and that's it. Examples of stories with hard magic systems include Avatar: The Last Airbender and Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo.

A soft magic system doesn't have inherent limitations in relation to what it can achieve. Examples of soft magic systems include Eragon, Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings.

3. What can magic do?

Now that you know whether you're writing low or high fantasy, and whether you're working with a hard or soft magic system, it's time to create some magic!

This is the part where I can't give you too much guidance, because it's all about your creativity.

What do you want magic to look like in your story? What do you want magic to be able to achieve? How big of a role do you want magic to play in the story and your characters' lives?

Do you want different classes of magic wielders, each with mastery over their own element? Do you want magic to be a flexible tool that can be used to achieve almost anything? Do you want your magic to be limited to telepathic actions or creating portals? Do you want different people to have power over different aspects of nature or different magical disciplines?

Can wielders use magic without any tools, or do they need spells, runes or rituals?

The possibilities are endless, but it's important to establish exactly what magic is capable of in your world.

4. How does it work and where does it come from?

Now we know what the magic can do. Next up is why it can do those things. Where does the power of the magic come from and how do wielders command it?

Does the power/force of magic come from within the wielder? Does it draw from inner life force and energy? Does it draw on energy from another realm or dimension? Does it pull from the surrounding natural elements? Does the power come from a deity or from demonic forces?

Identify the source/origin of the magic.

From there, elaborate on how it works. How does a wielder access the source of the magic? Is it through strength of will, incantations, selling their soul etc.?

For example, let's say that the power of your world's magic comes from the cosmic energy of another dimension. In order for wielders to access that energy, they draw specific sigils on their skin and these sigils act as portals to that world. Once the sigil is complete, the cosmic power flows into the wielder and they can now command it.

5. The limitations

Very importantly, you have to be clear on the limitations of your magic system. Fantasy magic systems often fall flat because they don't have clear confines.

If you're writing a hard magic system, this step is a bit easier, since there are inherent restrictions on what magic can do. With soft magic systems, you have to decide just how much magic is capable of.

But whether you're writing a hard or soft magic system, you need to consider the cost of using magic.

Does the use of magic drain the wielder's energy? Does each instance of using magic darken the wielder's soul or deteriorate their body further? Does using magic damage the natural world around the wielder or drain others of their life force?

Magic without a cost, limitations or consequences just isn't as captivating.

Reblog if you liked these tips. Comment with your own advice. Follow me for similar content.

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