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Stephen King’s Top 20 Rules For Writers

1. First write for yourself, and then worry about the audience. “When you write a story, you’re telling yourself the story. When you rewrite, your main job is taking out all the things that are not the story. Your stuff starts out being just for you, but then it goes out.”

2. Don’t use passive voice. “Timid writers like passive verbs for the same reason that timid lovers like passive partners. The passive voice is safe. The timid fellow writes “The meeting will be held at seven o’clock” because that somehow says to him, ‘Put it this way and people will believe you really know. ‘Purge this quisling thought! Don’t be a muggle! Throw back your shoulders, stick out your chin, and put that meeting in charge! Write ‘The meeting’s at seven.’ There, by God! Don’t you feel better?”

3. Avoid adverbs. “The adverb is not your friend. Consider the sentence “He closed the door firmly.” It’s by no means a terrible sentence, but ask yourself if ‘firmly’ really has to be there. What about context? What about all the enlightening (not to say emotionally moving) prose which came before ‘He closed the door firmly’? Shouldn’t this tell us how he closed the door? And if the foregoing prose does tell us, then isn’t ‘firmly’ an extra word? Isn’t it redundant?”

4. Avoid adverbs, especially after “he said” and “she said.” “While to write adverbs is human, to write ‘he said’ or ‘she said’ is divine.”

5. But don’t obsess over perfect grammar. “Language does not always have to wear a tie and lace-up shoes. The object of fiction isn’t grammatical correctness but to make the reader welcome and then tell a story… to make him/her forget, whenever possible, that he/she is reading a story at all. “

6. The magic is in you. “I’m convinced that fear is at the root of most bad writing. Dumbo got airborne with the help of a magic feather; you may feel the urge to grasp a passive verb or one of those nasty adverbs for the same reason. Just remember before you do that Dumbo didn’t need the feather; the magic was in him.”

7. Read, read, read. “You have to read widely, constantly refining (and redefining) your own work as you do so. If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write.”

8. Don’t worry about making other people happy. “Reading at meals is considered rude in polite society, but if you expect to succeed as a writer, rudeness should be the second to least of your concerns. The least of all should be polite society and what it expects. If you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days as a member of polite society are numbered, anyway.”

9. Turn off the TV. “Most exercise facilities are now equipped with TVs, but TV—while working out or anywhere else—really is about the last thing an aspiring writer needs. If you feel you must have the news analyst blowhard on CNN while you exercise, or the stock market blowhards on MSNBC, or the sports blowhards on ESPN, it’s time for you to question how serious you really are about becoming a writer. You must be prepared to do some serious turning inward toward the life of the imagination, and that means, I’m afraid, that Geraldo, Keigh Obermann, and Jay Leno must go. Reading takes time, and the glass teat takes too much of it.”

10. You have three months. “The first draft of a book—even a long one—should take no more than three months, the length of a season.”

11. There are two secrets to success. “When I’m asked for ‘the secret of my success’ (an absurd idea, that, but impossible to get away from), I sometimes say there are two: I stayed physically healthy, and I stayed married. It’s a good answer because it makes the question go away, and because there is an element of truth in it. The combination of a healthy body and a stable relationship with a self reliant woman who takes zero shit from me or anyone else has made the continuity of my working life possible. And I believe the converse is also true: that my writing and the pleasure I take in it has contributed to the stability of my health and my home life.”

12. Write one word at a time. “A radio talk-show host asked me how I wrote. My reply—’One word at a time’—seemingly left him without a reply. I think he was trying to decide whether or not I was joking. I wasn’t. In the end, it’s always that simple. Whether it’s a vignette of a single page or an epic trilogy like ‘The Lord Of The Rings,’ the work is always accomplished one word at a time.”

13. Eliminate distraction. “There should be no telephone in your writing room, certainly no TV or videogames for you to fool around with. If there’s a window, draw the curtains or pull down the shades unless it looks out at a blank wall.”

14. Stick to your own style. “One cannot imitate a writer’s approach to a particular genre, no matter how simple what the writer is doing may seem. You can’t aim a book like a cruise missile, in other words. People who decide to make a fortune writing lik John Grisham or Tom Clancy produce nothing but pale imitations, by and large, because vocabulary is not the same thing as feeling and plot is light years from the truth as it is understood by the mind and the heart.”

15. Dig. “When, during the course of an interview for The New Yorker, I told the interviewer (Mark Singer) that I believed stories are found things, like fossils in the ground, he said that he didn’t believe me. I replied that that was fine, as long as he believed that I believe it. And I do. Stories aren’t souvenir tee-shirts or Game Boys. Stories are relics, part of an undiscovered pre-existing world. The writer’s job is to use the tools in his or her toolbox to get as much of each one out of the ground intact as possible. Sometimes the fossil you uncover is small; a seashell. Sometimes it’s enormous, a Tyrannosaurus Rex with all the gigantic ribs and grinning teeth. Either way, short story or thousand page whopper of a novel, the techniques of excavation remain basically the same.”

16. Take a break. “If you’ve never done it before, you’ll find reading your book over after a six-week layoff to be a strange, often exhilarating experience. It’s yours, you’ll recognize it as yours, even be able to remember what tune was on the stereo when you wrote certain lines, and yet it will also be like reading the work of someone else, a soul-twin, perhaps. This is the way it should be, the reason you waited. It’s always easier to kill someone else’s darlings that it is to kill your own.”

17. Leave out the boring parts and kill your darlings. “Mostly when I think of pacing, I go back to Elmore Leonard, who explained it so perfectly by saying he just left out the boring parts. This suggests cutting to speed the pace, and that’s what most of us end up having to do (kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your ecgocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.)”

18. The research shouldn’t overshadow the story. “If you do need to do research because parts of your story deal with things about which you know little or nothing, remember that word back. That’s where research belongs: as far in the background and the back story as you can get it. You may be entranced with what you’re learning about the flesh-eating bacteria, the sewer system of New York, or the I.Q. potential of collie pups, but your readers are probably going to care a lot more about your characters and your story.”

19. You become a writer simply by reading and writing. “You don’t need writing classes or seminars any more than you need this or any other book on writing. Faulkner learned his trade while working in the Oxford, Mississippi post office. Other writers have learned the basics while serving in the Navy, working in steel mills or doing time in America’s finer crossbar hotels. I learned the most valuable (and commercial) part of my life’s work while washing motel sheets and restaurant tablecloths at the New Franklin Laundry in Bangor. You learn best by reading a lot and writing a lot, and the most valuable lessons of all are the ones you teach yourself.”

20. Writing is about getting happy. “Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It’s about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink.”

(Via Barnes and Noble)

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Are you all right miss? --  Steve Rodgers multipart fic

so this is a flower shop tattoo parlor AU.  for steve rogers in modern day. 

 "Steve whats wrong...you still in a funk?  Why don't you call that girl (y/n) I mentioned to you?!  She's sweet...beautiful, smart as a whip....and look at how sexy Bucky's arm looks!"  Natasha giggled as she walked into the back of Steve's bakery.  Bucky bolted around the counter and grabbed her around the waist and planted a big fat kiss, the two of them having been dating for a while and Steve rolled his eyes while working on his current pastries.  He had opened a bakery after everything with the Avengers with Bucky and Natasha, the three of them craving a normalish life despite everything that the three of them had been through.  

Steve had styled it after a bakery his mother had worked at when he was a child, only using his and Bucky's mom's own recipes for it, the two of them feeling very at home in the small pastry shop that had now in a hipsterish area of town.  Steve had been feeling lonelier and lonelier, worried that he would never be able to find someone tough enough to handle everything that he had been through, with his PTSD and nightmares.  His displacement in time, all of it was a lot to take on. 

"I don't know....I just...oh hey the truck is finally here!"  Steve bolted out the door towards the front, desperate to get away from Nat and Bucky right now because they were too much for him at the moment.  Seeing them so in love was killing him.  He started to take his frustration out on unloading the truck three 50 pound sacks of flour at a time after telling the delivery man that he would take care of it and to go inside and enjoy some free pastries on the house.  When he came out of the truck he saw her, a girl with beautiful hair like a princess and tattoos lugging a heavy piece of equipment into the shop next door which had just opened.  A new tattoo parlor which had moved from another location, he froze in his tracks with his breath caught in his chest, sweat beading on her chest as she tried to heft a large metal piece of equipment in her arms and tripped over the curb causing Steve to lunge forwards.....

 *readers POV*

You were exhausted and beat, having just moved locations.  Your last client had actually been Bucky Barnes the Winter Soldier, he had come in late at night after the parlor was closed with his girlfriend Natasha to get tattoo's done over the scars around his arm.  The two of them had been adorable together, and so thankful to you for opening up your store late at night, Natasha who had insisted on being called Nat kept asking if you had a boyfriend to which you just laughed softly and shook your head no, trying not to think of the horrific break up which had resulted in you needing to get your own studio across town. 

You felt lost, everyone you knew seemed to be in love and have somebody but you felt so alone, you had been through a lot in your life, and doubted that you would ever find someone who could handle your anxiety, depression, and general oddness that others seemed to find off putting.  At least that's how it seemed to you.  You sighed, trying to remind yourself to text back Nat who had wanted to meet up for coffee when she got off of work at her boyfriend bakery while you stretched, ignoring a truck near you being uploaded by none other than Steve Rodgers.   

You were just jamming along to your ipod and hefting a heavy piece of equipment in your arms when you lost your footing on the curb, and without warning you felt someone catch you as the equipment went crashing down. A muscular arm wrapped around your body as you gripped onto a tightly muscled chest and turned your face upwards to thank your rescuer and your heart just about stopped in your chest.  Steve Rodgers was holding you in one arm while carrying three 50 pound sacks of flour in the other, his muscles bugling as you stared into each others eyes and you slowly took your ear buds out of your ears, lost in his blue eyes. 

"Are you all right miss?" he asked in a deep and beautiful voice.  You just nodded, gulping as he righted you but kept his arm wrapped around you while you kept your hands, fingers splayed on his chest. 

"My name is Steve....you're the new shop owner next to me, I own this bakery....what's your name?" you gulped and smiled, Steve returning a dazzling smile back to you. 

"(Y/N)....I'm (Y/N) I own this tattoo parlor....I think I did some work on a friend of yours Bucky...?" your voice trailed off and Steve's face broke into a mega watt dazzling smile.  Steve going off like rapid fire about how gorgeous the tattoo you had one on Bucky was and the two of you fast striking up a conversation about your respective businesses while he set down the flour and forgot about the truck behind him and you forgot about yours.  Little did the two of you know that Bucky and Natasha stood watching from inside excitedly as the both of them had been wanting to get the two of you together for some time now. 

After some time there was a cough behind you as one of your employees stood there with a grin on her face and a smirk, eyeing Steve up and down and you glanced at your watch realizing that you had been talking to Steve who was now sitting next to you on the curb for over an hour.  You smiled at one another and stood to your feet, brushing off your black jeans and glancing over at your shop then his.  Steve never took his eyes off you, taking in your hair, your eyes, your smile, and thinking about how he wished he could ignore his bakery all day just to talk to this beautiful girl who he had caught in his arms but he was already running way behind. 

"I'll see you around, maybe I can stop by when I'm off...we could get a cup of coffee...neighborly things?" Steve said with a grin as he shoved one hand into his tight fitting pocket and scratched the back of his head with his other hand.  You grinned then remembered Natasha. 

"I'm actually supposed to be getting coffee or something with Natasha tonight...." Steve's face fella s you spoke and before either of you could speak Natasha stuck her head out of the door of the bakery and hollered at the both of you.

"It's a double date then!  See you tonight (Y/N)!  Steve get in here!" Natasha was gone in a second and both you and Steve turned red in the face with embarrassment and he nodded, before turning on his heels and jogging into his bakery. 

"I look forward to it....pleasure to meet you (Y/N)...see you tonight," Steve eyed you up and down as he looked back at you over his shoulder after you had turned your back and thumping into the door frame face first because he was so distracted and excited to see you later that night.  You grinned to yourself as you walked inside, smiling and cracking your neck as you prepared to get to work setting up the shop

 I HOPE SOMEONE ENJOYED THIS THERE WILL BE MORE I HAD IT ALL WRITTEN THEN MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I HAD TO REDO IT IT WAS A PAIN IN THE BUTT BUT I HAD FUN

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Wonder Woman Mondo Poster - TULA LOTAY

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Yuuuup

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Okay so winter soldier not bucky. But winter soldier and hela? THOUGHTS

😂😂😂 The war paint theory (x)

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#dead

it’s has been six years and I still can’t stop laughing at this

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"Doll...whats wrong?"

this is my first attempt so...here it goes.

 a fic about Bucky Barnes, warnings, smut? I guess that's all that I have to say about that!

  You heard the door to your apartment open, your boyfriend Bucky's keys having rattled in the lock from when you gave him a set (which had made him crack a pearly white toothed smile) just three months ago.  You sniffled and tried to dry the tears from your cheeks so that he wouldn't know that something was wrong but your efforts where pointless.  The moment he saw you curled up in a ball amongst the white comforter on your bed with hot coco and your hair a mess he saw the streaks running down your cheeks and dropped everything in his arms to the floor.  White roses for you, a few containers of takeout, and a gift wrapped box dropping to the floor as his eyebrows furrowed and he darted towards the bed frantically. 

"Doll...what's wrong?" Bucky murmured as he cupped one cheek and you pulled your robe tighter over your naked frame.  You sniffled and explained how earlier that day some girls had been making fun of you at the pool, for your shape and your size, the stretch marks on your skin which you hated so much.  You where crying full on again by the time that you finished speaking and Bucky had you suddenly pulled up onto his thick muscular thighs as he held you and rocked you in his arms, one metal and one flesh with his metallic fingertips stroking up and down your spine. 

He pulled away from you and you looked up at your boyfriend's beautiful sharp blue eyes from where you head rested against his muscular chest.  He cupped your cheek and slowly pressed his plump full lips onto your brow, making a trail of raining kisses over your forehead, cheekbones, ears, neck, and finally making his way back up to your lips to tenderly press his to yours making you breath out hard.  Feeling his warm breath against your face through his nose as his flesh hand slid back from your cheek to your hair and he pulled back slightly to look into your (your eye color) eyes.

"(Y/n).  You are stunning.  You are perfection itself, you are a Goddess.  A vision of every mans desire and...they better not ever think of you that way because I would kill them but," You giggled as his voice spoke roughly at the end, suddenly the tears forgotten as Bucky showered you with compliments. 

"You're ridiculous Buck," you giggled as you started to kiss over his chiseled jaw line and he let out a soft low groan, hardening beneath you and you felt your body clench between your thighs in response. 

"Hang on I'm not done yet!  You are a Sex Goddess.  Every curve and dimple is the essence of perfection.  And I love you," you gasped as Bucky flipped the two of you suddenly in a move too swift for you to follow as he pinned you below him on the sheets.  Your robe being shed instantly and his button up shirt falling to the floor, his pants and boxers following soon after as he must have toed of his shoes without you noticing. 

Bucky took his time with you, his hands one cold metal and one soft flesh moving over your body slowly, teasing your nipples with his fingertips as he kissed down your chest to capture each one between his full lips and nibble at you.  Making you gasp and tangle your fingers in his thick brown hair, Bucky made his way lower still, kissing down every curve of you and rubbing his hands over you as he crawled down the bed and paused at the apex of your thighs.  He slowed down yet more, kissing over each outer lip of you and then looking up directly into your eyes as his tongue made contact with your clit. 

He slowly rubbed his tongue in circles, while his two hands rubbed up and down over the curves of your body which he adored and loved you for.  His mouth never ceasing to move between your lower set of lips.  Bucky's full lips capturing your clit between them and his tongue flicking back and forth softly and gently at first, then speeding up and rapidly licking you back and forth side to side.  His crystal blue eyes never leaving yours as he was desperate to hear you cry out his name, Bucky himself so turned on by the taste, sound and sight of you that he was thrusting his hips down against the bed to get some friction on the throbbing hardness between his thighs. 

Right as you felt your orgasm overtake you Bucky sucked on your clit while your fingers tangled into his thick soft brown hair and you bucked your hips against his face Bucky groaning as he waited for you to ride it out.  Bucky rapidly crawled up the bed once your muscles unclenched all over your body.  Sliding himself, all 9 thick inches right into you with a groan from both of you.  Your body hyper sensitive from your orgasm and Bucky barely able to control himself, only giving you 50% percent of what he could give from his fear of hurting you while on top which had happened before due to his enhanced strength and his size. 

The two of you moved as one, Bucky's hands never stopping moving as he kept his eyes on your body and face, loving hearing you whimper and moan.  His groans becoming louder and louder as he snapped his hips back and forth, driving the fat thick head of his cock deeper inside of you yet to a place that belonged only to him as no one else had ever gone that deep inside of your body.  You could tell his was becoming close, his cock twitching heavily inside of you and his grunts becoming louder and more animalistic with every thrust.  You gripped into his hair and locked eyes with him right as he cried out your name, his hips driving home one last time and the two of you came together.  The walls of your body clenching down on him as he twitched hard and you felt thick spurts coming from his body and filling yours up, Bucky gasping your name like a prayer as he collapsed on top of you, holding you tightly for a good time before he rolled to the side and stroked his metal fingertips across your skin.  Whispering compliments to you and telling you that those girls where fucking morons and they didn't matter anyways. 

All that matter was that the two of you had each other, after a time you fell asleep in his arms, your head against his chest and his arms wrapped around you.  You awoke some time later but did not open your eyes, and Bucky was whispering softly into your hair as he thought you slept. 

"It still amazes me doll....every time I hold you in my arms.  It's like all of my anxiety disappears, every fear I have just...flies right out the window.  God......I hope Steve and Sharon are right about the ring I picked out.......I'm so nervous about what you'll say to me tomorrow night when I ask you..." he sighed happily and disentangled from your limbs, making his way into the kitchen to put a pot of tea on as you lay there in shock realizing that your boyfriend was going to propose the next day.....

 hope you guys liked my very first attempt!!! let me know what you think I guess??