risstasticwritings
risstasticwritings
Purrfectly Imperfect
42 posts
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risstasticwritings · 2 months ago
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“So I'm ready to go to the temple, then?” I put my hands on my hips, determined for the mission to begin.
She nodded, then handed over a large, black leather bag adorned with the moon and stars. I looked inside and saw plenty of snacks, some bottles of water, clean mismatched socks, and a hand towel.
“This should have everything you need. But I need to teach you one more thing, so listen carefully.” Mama said firmly.
I nodded, giving her my best determined gaze.
“If something attacks you, and you can't get away fast enough. I want you to point directly at the sky, and shout 'flare!' as loud as you can.” She said. “This will cause a flare to shoot from your finger and light up the sky.”
“What happens after?” I asked.
“Someone will come to your rescue and escort you home, safe and sound. Now promise me you'll use that spell when you need to.”
“I promise.” I nodded at her.
Mama took my face into her hands and kissed my forehead. “You're my good girl. Make a good first impression for grandma and don't get distracted, okay?”
“I'll try not to,” I said. ”Are there naked statues inside the temple?”
“Yes, but don't laugh when you see their privates.” She said, patting my head again.
“Okay baby, give Papa a goodbye hug and get going! The sooner you arrive at the temple, the better.”
I nodded again, grinning wide. My first big mission. A mission from my mama. I was not going to let her down!
I gave Papa his hug, but he held onto it for longer than I expected. But what was there to worry about?
Purrfectly Imperfect, ch 6
Mama tied a sash around my waist snugly, after I was fitted with her old robe. She didn't hold onto much from her days as a priestess, but I guess she knew to hold onto the robe until it was needed again.
“Priestesses aren't really…supposed to have children.” Mama said, making sure the sash wasn't too tight.
I took a deep breath in and out, just like she showed me. She smiled and nodded to herself.
“Perfect. Now you're my little junior priestess.” Mama said, lightly ruffling my hair.
She paused a tiny bit when her fingers touched a thin spot, and my heart pounded in my chest. Please don't mention it, I thought to myself. Please, please, please.
“Ah, before I forget!” Mama snapped her fingers, and brought out a small old pot attached to a string. “It took me a while to get the rust out, but it should be fine now.”
“Only visitors wear the incense pot, right mama?” I asked, tilting my head while mama put the pot around my neck and secured it in place.
“That's correct.” Mama said, flicking off a speck of dust from my shoulder. ”That pot was your father's.”
“That's right…” I said, “Now I remember! You and papa met when he ran into the temple, so in a panic you grabbed a pot at random and threw it around his neck! So he wouldn't desecrate the sacred grounds…”
Mama laughed softly, “Mhm! Your grandmother lectured me anyway about the whole ordeal… but the rules of the temple were still followed.”
“Sounds like grandma lectured you a lot…” I sighed.
“She did, but you're not going to mention any of it while you're at her temple, okay?” Mama said, scratching behind my ears.
“Now remember, no swearing, no foul language or visual jokes, don't ask too many questions…” She listed off all the rules, “Just locate the Anchor in the temple, and send your power into it.”
My power. I gazed at my hands, clenching them into fists and releasing them. I always had a peculiar power within me. Sometimes it manifested as little lights on the ceiling during stormy nights, other times I was capable of healing small wounds like cuts or scrapes.
I looked at mama, more specifically the twinklies in her hair. I wanted twinklies of my own, so SO badly. But I couldn't keep hair on my head long enough to grow at a good length. I never knew if she was born with them or if they manifested later in life. When I became a grown woman, would I have twinklies of my own, too?
Mama smiled, “You shine in your own way, sweetheart.”
I glanced at my reflection in her jewelry. I didn't see anything about myself shining. My dull brown hair, always frizzing at the top and sides of my head. My eyes, always baggy from countless nights of misery. I sighed heavily, tearing myself away from the sight.
“Do I need anything else?” I asked Mama.
Mama looked me over, still smiling. She softly took my hands into hers.
“No, baby. You're perfect.”
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risstasticwritings · 2 months ago
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Purrfectly Imperfect, ch 6
Mama tied a sash around my waist snugly, after I was fitted with her old robe. She didn't hold onto much from her days as a priestess, but I guess she knew to hold onto the robe until it was needed again.
“Priestesses aren't really…supposed to have children.” Mama said, making sure the sash wasn't too tight.
I took a deep breath in and out, just like she showed me. She smiled and nodded to herself.
“Perfect. Now you're my little junior priestess.” Mama said, lightly ruffling my hair.
She paused a tiny bit when her fingers touched a thin spot, and my heart pounded in my chest. Please don't mention it, I thought to myself. Please, please, please.
“Ah, before I forget!” Mama snapped her fingers, and brought out a small old pot attached to a string. “It took me a while to get the rust out, but it should be fine now.”
“Only visitors wear the incense pot, right mama?” I asked, tilting my head while mama put the pot around my neck and secured it in place.
“That's correct.” Mama said, flicking off a speck of dust from my shoulder. ”That pot was your father's.”
“That's right…” I said, “Now I remember! You and papa met when he ran into the temple, so in a panic you grabbed a pot at random and threw it around his neck! So he wouldn't desecrate the sacred grounds…”
Mama laughed softly, “Mhm! Your grandmother lectured me anyway about the whole ordeal… but the rules of the temple were still followed.”
“Sounds like grandma lectured you a lot…” I sighed.
“She did, but you're not going to mention any of it while you're at her temple, okay?” Mama said, scratching behind my ears.
“Now remember, no swearing, no foul language or visual jokes, don't ask too many questions…” She listed off all the rules, “Just locate the Anchor in the temple, and send your power into it.”
My power. I gazed at my hands, clenching them into fists and releasing them. I always had a peculiar power within me. Sometimes it manifested as little lights on the ceiling during stormy nights, other times I was capable of healing small wounds like cuts or scrapes.
I looked at mama, more specifically the twinklies in her hair. I wanted twinklies of my own, so SO badly. But I couldn't keep hair on my head long enough to grow at a good length. I never knew if she was born with them or if they manifested later in life. When I became a grown woman, would I have twinklies of my own, too?
Mama smiled, “You shine in your own way, sweetheart.”
I glanced at my reflection in her jewelry. I didn't see anything about myself shining. My dull brown hair, always frizzing at the top and sides of my head. My eyes, always baggy from countless nights of misery. I sighed heavily, tearing myself away from the sight.
“Do I need anything else?” I asked Mama.
Mama looked me over, still smiling. She softly took my hands into hers.
“No, baby. You're perfect.”
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risstasticwritings · 4 months ago
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Is it too soon to ask for a beta reader of what I have so far...? I only have 5 chapters of my book, I'm not sure how it's gonna progress past that or how it's gonna end, this is all in it's very early infancy stage...
But one of my biggest hopes and dreams is to have part of my inner world be put into an actual physical holdable book, with pages to turn, and it being enjoyed by people. I don't care about being a best seller or being rich from it, I care about people liking it genuinely.
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risstasticwritings · 5 months ago
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Resources for Writing Injuries
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femoral artery (inner thigh)
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common carotid artery (neck)
aorta (heart & abdomen)
axillary artery (underarm)
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General Resources
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risstasticwritings · 6 months ago
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i'm procrastinating but here have some writing i yanked out of my brain yesterday. pretend this has a witty insightful title. -----
“I never...got to know her…” Clarence sighed, looking up at the gray, cloudy sky. “Her?” PegaKitty asked, tilting her head. “...you. Well. The ‘you’ I was cloned from.” PegaKitty furrowed her brow, recalling her clone-brother’s description of her. Always crying, always being tortured, always begging to be left alone by the scientists that were caring for her. PegaKitty rubbed her arm, trying to imagine the torment the other-her went through. Nothing came up in her mind.
“One night, the power was out.” Clarence said, quietly, gripping the grass underneath his fists. “So we escaped. I found her, and we took off running.”
“Where did you go? The two of you?” PegaKitty asked.
“I don’t know.” Clarence shook his head, “Anywhere. As long as it wasn’t that damned hell of a building. We were out in the woods, I think. It was raining, cold, but the two of us laughed together...and danced.”
“What…” PegaKitty swallowed thickly, “What happened to her? Me?” Clarence gripped the grass tighter, tears sliding down his cheeks.
“She...she…” He took in a deep, shaky breath. “She didn’t survive the night.” Her blood ran cold, and sweat dotted her brow. With her heart racing in her chest, PegaKitty pressed further into his past. “Why? How?” “...her body was cold. Her eyes...like glass. I begged, screamed, pleaded, for her to come back to me.”
“I…” Her wings drooped, her tail and fur got fluffier. “I’m sorry.” “I cursed the very ground I walked on. If the world outside the facility was going to be as cruel as the inside, I would have destroyed it all.”
Silence, the wind grew colder, blowing harshly. “…I tried to.” Clarence sighed. “Here I was… someone with immense power, and I wasn’t going to let it go unused. So...I exploded as many things as I could, with my electrical discharge. I wasn’t thinking. I was just...damning the world, I guess.”
“Then you showed up, right? Two months ago?” PegaKitty asked. “I don’t know. What happened two months ago?” Clarence asked in return.
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risstasticwritings · 6 months ago
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some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs
* body language masterlist
* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does
* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes
* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said
* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again
* some more body language help
(hope this helps some ppl)
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risstasticwritings · 7 months ago
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Mama shrugged, “We don’t know. For the Holy Mother to be fading like this, her anchors on Eden must be weakening. If you’re able to find one and give it strength…” “Does Grandma’s temple have one?” My parents exchanged nervous glances. “Grandma’s temple...is special. You can’t just waltz in carelessly.” Mama wrung her hands, “Visitors must carry an incense pot. The incense drives away bad spirits. It’s like garlic for vampires.”
“How big is the pot?” I asked. “It’s a small pot, you wear it around your neck in this day and age.”
Purrfectly Imperfect; ch 5
Over breakfast, I told mama of my dream. She dropped her fork, eyes going wide. “She was fading?” I nodded. “That’s...not a good omen. Hang on.” Mama dashed out of the kitchen, returning with a couple of large books. She sat them on the table, frantically flipping through them and muttering to herself. Maybe it was a bad idea to tell her. “Sweetheart, I dreamed of something similar when I was your age. In my dream, she was whole, and solid.” I shoved a bite of breakfast into my mouth, and tilted my head at her. “That’s the mother of this planet.” She gulped, “Dreaming of her, and her body fading… it means…” My stomach was in knots. “It means she’s getting weaker. Her connection to this planet is dwindling. Without her guidance in times of need, we have no answers to our worldly pains OR hopes of the future!” “What...can be done, mama? How do we save her?” “She doesn’t exist in this world; she exists only in the void plane. A space with no time, no ground to walk on, or stars. It’s pure blackness all around.” Perhaps I was selfish after all, sending my wishes into the world. Papa walked into the kitchen, brows furrowed and arms crossed. “We’re not doing this again.” He spoke, matter of factly. “When we moved here, we swore up and down that no trouble would find us.” “It’s not like we can ignore it all and pretend everything is fine!” Mama raised her voice. She sighed heavily, closing the books. “A gateway of despair must have opened.” “W-what does that mean?” I asked. “It means a portal between the restless spirit realm and our planet has opened up.” Papa said. “How do we close it?” Mama and Papa nervously exchanged glances. “We...don’t know. Sometimes they’re dormant for centuries, but when they’re active…” “Sometimes we’re able to placate the spirits and help them move on, but they often come in groups of hundreds at a time. Just giant masses of what used to be people that lost their individuality.” I gasped. “Hundreds? At a single time?” “In my youth,” Mama began, “I was a shrine maiden at your grandmother’s temple. One of my tasks was to survey the nearby areas for any signs of restless spirit masses. When one would be found, I was to take my staff, recite a holy chant, and dispel the mass with holy light.” “Did it work?” I asked. Mama grimaced. “I never encountered one during my time there.” “I spent multiple years, terribly anxious, for something that never arrived or threatened me. Years that I’ll never get back.” “And now that the mother of Eden is fading, it means those spirits will be worming their way through the gaps of her embrace…” “S-so we just need to use that staff, right?” Mama shook her head. “I swore I’d never come back there.” I jumped out of my seat, “Let ME do it. I still can’t fly, but…” Both Mama and Papa grimaced. Was this a dangerous task? Was I going to be strong enough to do it? If not me, then who? “I don’t have that staff anymore, baby.” Mama said, and my ears drooped. She sighed heavily, scrunching her brow and pursing her lips, deep in thought. “I have an idea,” She said. “Oh no. No no no. We’re not doing this.” Papa spoke up, tail swishing behind him. “What other options do we have?” Mama shot back at him, “Let these masses get bigger until they’re one planet sized mass and pretend everything is fine?” Papa groaned, gritting his teeth. His knuckles were white. I wish I kept quiet about my dream. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s my fault. I asked the moon for strength and…” “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Mama pat me on the shoulder, “I, too, asked the moon for things when I was your age.” Papa’s hands relaxed. “I did something similar.” “The point is, asking the moon for whatever did not cause this. The moon is merely a messenger of Eden. It’s okay to do what we did.” “But if I didn’t cause this, what did?”
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risstasticwritings · 7 months ago
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Purrfectly Imperfect; ch 5
Over breakfast, I told mama of my dream. She dropped her fork, eyes going wide. “She was fading?” I nodded. “That’s...not a good omen. Hang on.” Mama dashed out of the kitchen, returning with a couple of large books. She sat them on the table, frantically flipping through them and muttering to herself. Maybe it was a bad idea to tell her. “Sweetheart, I dreamed of something similar when I was your age. In my dream, she was whole, and solid.” I shoved a bite of breakfast into my mouth, and tilted my head at her. “That’s the mother of this planet.” She gulped, “Dreaming of her, and her body fading… it means…” My stomach was in knots. “It means she’s getting weaker. Her connection to this planet is dwindling. Without her guidance in times of need, we have no answers to our worldly pains OR hopes of the future!” “What...can be done, mama? How do we save her?” “She doesn’t exist in this world; she exists only in the void plane. A space with no time, no ground to walk on, or stars. It’s pure blackness all around.” Perhaps I was selfish after all, sending my wishes into the world. Papa walked into the kitchen, brows furrowed and arms crossed. “We’re not doing this again.” He spoke, matter of factly. “When we moved here, we swore up and down that no trouble would find us.” “It’s not like we can ignore it all and pretend everything is fine!” Mama raised her voice. She sighed heavily, closing the books. “A gateway of despair must have opened.” “W-what does that mean?” I asked. “It means a portal between the restless spirit realm and our planet has opened up.” Papa said. “How do we close it?” Mama and Papa nervously exchanged glances. “We...don’t know. Sometimes they’re dormant for centuries, but when they’re active…” “Sometimes we’re able to placate the spirits and help them move on, but they often come in groups of hundreds at a time. Just giant masses of what used to be people that lost their individuality.” I gasped. “Hundreds? At a single time?” “In my youth,” Mama began, “I was a shrine maiden at your grandmother’s temple. One of my tasks was to survey the nearby areas for any signs of restless spirit masses. When one would be found, I was to take my staff, recite a holy chant, and dispel the mass with holy light.” “Did it work?” I asked. Mama grimaced. “I never encountered one during my time there.” “I spent multiple years, terribly anxious, for something that never arrived or threatened me. Years that I’ll never get back.” “And now that the mother of Eden is fading, it means those spirits will be worming their way through the gaps of her embrace…” “S-so we just need to use that staff, right?” Mama shook her head. “I swore I’d never come back there.” I jumped out of my seat, “Let ME do it. I still can’t fly, but…” Both Mama and Papa grimaced. Was this a dangerous task? Was I going to be strong enough to do it? If not me, then who? “I don’t have that staff anymore, baby.” Mama said, and my ears drooped. She sighed heavily, scrunching her brow and pursing her lips, deep in thought. “I have an idea,” She said. “Oh no. No no no. We’re not doing this.” Papa spoke up, tail swishing behind him. “What other options do we have?” Mama shot back at him, “Let these masses get bigger until they’re one planet sized mass and pretend everything is fine?” Papa groaned, gritting his teeth. His knuckles were white. I wish I kept quiet about my dream. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s my fault. I asked the moon for strength and…” “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” Mama pat me on the shoulder, “I, too, asked the moon for things when I was your age.” Papa’s hands relaxed. “I did something similar.” “The point is, asking the moon for whatever did not cause this. The moon is merely a messenger of Eden. It’s okay to do what we did.” “But if I didn’t cause this, what did?”
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risstasticwritings · 7 months ago
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Purrfectly Imperfect Ch 4
hey hey, here's chapter 4 of purrfectly imperfect! Sorry for the wait.
I feel like my chapters are really short for a book but...this is merely a very rough draft, so... ---
That night, I dreamed of a misty landscape. As I ventured through the fog, I saw something strange. Someone. But a lot of her pieces were missing. She was an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. More of her was vanishing, but when we locked eyes, she smiled warmly. “Why are you incomplete?” I asked her. “Don’t worry about me,” She spoke calmly, “Soon I will be a part of your world. It hurts, but I’ve been embracing it.” I reached for her, my hand briefly phasing through her body. “Who are you?” “I am all that lives on the world you walk upon. The trees, the birds, the sun, the moon. The highest peak and lowest depths.” “But you’re vanishing!” I gestured. “Fear not the vanishing, worry about your impact on the world.” “I’m just a cat! I can’t focus, do math, or keep my hair on my head!” Still, she smiled warmly. “Just keep pushing. I’m sure something will give way.” “How do I fly?” “The answer is already in you.” But before I could ask what she meant, I woke up. The sunlight shone harshly on my tear streaked face. Something caught my eye on the windowsill. It was a pure white rose in a glass case. But I blinked and it vanished I didn’t have any plants, or white roses for that matter, but I did have paper. I got out of bed, drawing a rose then cutting it out by my desk. When the rose was completed, I sat it upon the windowsill, facing the sun. Doing this, it felt...right. Maybe the fading lady would like it, wherever she was.
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risstasticwritings · 7 months ago
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I have some very good news! Remember my book? The one that's for real for real going to be a physical book you can hold in your hands for CERTAIN this time? I haven't given up on it! Got some welcomed input from my mama on the latest chapter, so I'll be sure to share that + the chapter before it very soon!
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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Writing References: Tips & Advice
Some Tips & Advice for Writing Fiction
Active Reading ⚜ Hook ⚜ Outline ⚜ Summary ⚜ Wordiness
Allegory ⚜ Food ⚜ Horror ⚜ Humour ⚜ Memoir ⚜ Mystery
Beginning & Ending ⚜ Chapter Ending ⚜ Last Line ⚜ The End
Conscious Language ⚜ White Room Syndrome ⚜ Writing Style
Creative Writing ⚜ Journal Writing ⚜ Speculative Biology
Fight Scene Part 1 2 ⚜ Plot Twist ⚜ Subplot
Procrastination ⚜ Rejection ⚜ Vocabulary ⚜ Your Audience
Writer's Block: Part 1 2
Your Character: Hero ⚜ Likable ⚜ Morally Grey ⚜ Well-Rounded
Writers on Writing
Anaïs Nin ⚜ Andrew Motion ⚜ Annie Proulx
Elmore Leonard ⚜ Ernest Hemingway ⚜ Friedrich Nietzsche
George Orwell: Motives for Writing ⚜ On Poetry ⚜ On Nonsense Poetry
George Orwell: The Prevention of Literature ⚜ On Good "Bad Books"
George Orwell: Describes A Writer
H. P. Lovecraft ⚜ Henry Miller ⚜ Italo Calvino
Jack Kerouac: Are Writers Born or Made?
James Baldwin ⚜ John Rechy ⚜ John Steinbeck
Joyce Carol Oates ⚜ Ray Bradbury ⚜ Ronald Knox
Kurt Vonnegut: The Shapes of Stories
Margaret Atwood: On Plot
Rick Riordan: On Character ⚜ On Dialogue ⚜ On Plot
Rick Riordan: Some Common Problems in Unpublished Manuscripts
Stephen King ⚜ Ursula K. Le Guin ⚜ Vladimir Nabokov
Virginia Woolf: On Censorship ⚜ On Words
W. H. Auden ⚜ William Strunk Jr. & E. B. White
Zadie Smith: Dance Lessons for Writers
More: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ For the Poets ⚜ Prompts Notes & References ⚜ Templates ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Basics
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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Purrfectly Imperfect; chapter 3
That night, at dinner, I numbly prodded my meatballs with a fork.
"Is something wrong, honey?" Mama asked
I looked at her and smiled, "No. Just a long day at school."
Mama furrowed her brow, pursing her lips.
"I got a call from one of your teachers earlier."
"I can explain!" I spat out quickly, rising from my seat.
"Miss Ralph said you were doodling in class today."
"What?! No!" I shook my head, "I was note taking! Why would she say that?"
Trembling again, I gripped my fork.
"She…ripped it all up. My research on bird wings."
Mama sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"That notebook was on sale, we can buy you another one." She spoke after some silence, "But your research needs to be done during free time."
My eyes were leaking again. If I did get the same notebook and decorate it with the same stickers, it'd just get destroyed again. Even if I behaved during class, trying really hard to focus on the lectures and assignments, my effort would never be good enough for the teachers. Or anyone.
"I'm…I'm sorry." I pitifully whimpered. "I won't do it again."
"Just eat your dinner for me, then you can relax."
I sat back down, jabbing my fork into the meatballs and lifting them into my mouth. The taste of tomato sauce made me gag. I wanted to retch. But I got them down in the end.
I washed my plate after dinner, and trudged like a zombie into my room. My room was never clean. I never bothered to clean up the piles of trash or hair I pulled out. Or pick up my clothes from the floor.
Changing into my clean, fluffy pajamas, I flopped onto my bed, hiding from the world underneath my floral comforter. My wings cocooned me, lilacs flooding my nostrils. I stroked my wings, silently praying to myself.
Please let me become stronger. Please let me become smarter. Please let me become somebody else.
Somebody who wasn't sensitive. Somebody brave who had friends. Somebody that made something of themselves.
It's not like I never tried to make friends. I tried taking an interest to what everyone was talking about. To involve myself with them. But it never worked. They always shunned me.
I poked my head out from the blanket, peering up at the waning gibbous state of the moon. I stared at it for awhile, maybe I was hoping it'd say hello or give me some answers. Regardless, the gentle light was so calming. Maybe Eden's natural sattelite could be my friend.
"Hello, moon." I croaked out at the brilliant sphere, "Thank you for sharing your light with me. I like the company."
Naturally, it didn't respond. How could it? The moon had no mouth.
But that night, I told the moon of my woes, and my deepest desires of flight. The moonlight itself felt like it was gently holding my hand.
"I have a favor to ask, moon." I said, "But please don't feel like you have to do it."
"Can you send me a friend my way, moon? Or give me the strength to face each new day?"
"I'm scared, moon." I said after a brief pause. "I'm scared of the world. What if I'm too much for it? What if I never find my place?"
No response. But that was fine with me. The moon does a lot for our planet. Such as maintaining the ocean tides and keeping asteroids away. I felt a little guilty asking it for such a favor. Maybe the moon had enough on it's plate for a simple cat like me.
"Thank you for listening, moon." I smiled. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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I am trying. VERY HARD. Not to make any edits on my first draft of a book. ...uuuunfortunately there's going to be some cut content. Like a sentence where the protagonist voices want of.........stabbing a teacher in the eye with a fork. I feel like that's TOO MUCH. i've written and shown the protagonist wanting to die, but......wanting to do something violent like that...i feel like it's crossing the line.
like yeah when I was a teenager I wanted to do that. blame it on mental instability. But putting that in a book, what's going to be my first ever book, about a girl growing up and making her own place in the world......
like this is something I'm showing my family as I'm developing it. And I grew up playing Mortal Kombat and watching Untold Stories of the ER. things like that.
what am I trying to say.... uh. that sentence. it's very concerning, out of context. like if you don't know me or what I've been through.
like if I were reading a similar YA novel, relating heavily to the main character, and suddenly there was a line like that... it'd be like really bad whiplash, wouldn't it? I feel like that sentence is controversial, and doesn't need to be in the book.
this book takes place in a fictional world that's earth like, but not earth itself. earth is dead. that's canon. so there's magic wielding furries here and there. Buuuut I'm drawing the line......at somebody saying, in the very text of the book, they want to really hurt someone that's hurt them.
does this make sense? is this post pointless? maybe. back to typing.
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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So, my book. writing it is going well, and it's being received pretty well. HOWEVER!! If there are parts that are not tagged appropriately when I post them, please let me know. I promise I don't bite. I take trigger warnings very seriously. I don't know your trauma, and I don't want to force you to re-live it. This isn't meant to be an edgy book, it's the story of a girl growing up and making her place in the world. It's not all happy all the time…but then again, what kind of book would that be?
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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Purrfectly Imperfect, chapter 2
(CW for themes of depression and wanting to die)
multiple months passed, with the magical wings still on my back. They were so soft, and smelled of lilacs. I tried to do what my papa suggested; researching species of birds to see which wings were being mimicked in the conjuration of me.
I really, really tried. So much, that I neglected my schoolwork. To be fair, I WAS taking notes during classes…just not the right ones.
It was just before lunch, and I was hungry. But I was stopped before I could leave. Sweat poured down my face, and my blood ran cold. My fur prickled, and my tail got fluffier. Wiping my hands on my pants, I asked what I was needed for.
My teacher scowled at me, ripping my notebook from my hands. She flipped through it, getting angrier and angrier with every new page.
"Just when I thought you were paying attention." She snarled. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I was…researching bird wings, Miss Ralph."
"Does this look like an orinthology class to you?"
"No, Miss Ralph."
"Have you been doing ANY of your history assignments?"
I swallowed thickly, eyes getting bleary.
"No, Miss Ralph."
Miss Ralph clutched the notebook tightly in her hands. So tightly, my sparkly star stickers were getting ruined.
I wanted to shrink. To run away. To let the floor swallow me alive. I was quietly whimpering, trying to breathe through my shame.
"Are you crying right now? Are you serious? You're taking notes on BIRDS during MY class and you're crying?"
I didn't answer, my head faced the floor.
"Look at me."
Hesitantly, I looked back at her. Her thin lips were tightly pursed. Her black eyes glaring daggers.
With her other hand, she ripped up my notebook into pieces. Every shredded paper breaking my heart. I wanted to scream at her to stop, but I knew better. I could only watch as she destroyed it completely. No amount of tape could put it together again.
She hurled the scraps onto the floor.
"Clean that up, and get out of my sight."
I quickly got on my knees, picking up all of the pieces of what once was my cute unicorn notebook adorned with multicolored glitter star stickers, and threw them all away.
I bolted from the classroom.
Running to the nearest bathroom, I slammed the door shut. I nestled myself by the sinks, and just cried. I cried and cried and silently begged for death, so that I couldn't embarass myself anymore. I wanted to throw up, to bash my head against the wall until I passed out. Fingernails dug into my arms…and then I heard a toilet flush.
This was not a safe place to weep. Nowhere was. Not even the office of the school counselor I once trusted. I wished dearly that I could tear out my too-sensitive heart from my ribcage, so that I wouldn't be such a crybaby anymore.
I tore out of the bathroom before anybody could see me. Nobody needed to see such an ugly sight. My puffy eyes, my dribbling nose, my quivering lips.
The school bell rang harshly, making me puff up again. I could never get used to it.
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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alright I'm gonna type chapter 2 from my notebook now, but fair warning, the story gets pretty dark. A teacher grabs the protagonist's notebook and rips it to pieces while she watches, the protagonist breaks down in the bathroom, she also voices want of…doing a violent act to said teacher. Aaaand she also wishes to dissapear and rip her own heart out. You know, the fun stuff.
Keep in mind all the events in the book are FICTIONAL and not based in reality. All that's real is the pain I faced, and the mental anguish. I promise nobody literally tore up a notebook of mine.
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risstasticwritings · 10 months ago
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Writing Trust Issues Tension
One keeps asking, “Are you sure?” and “What about…?” because they just can’t believe the other person.
Every little thing the other person says or does is met with suspicion, like, “Why are you really doing this?”
They start to open up, then stop, because they’re not sure if they can trust the other person yet.
One keeps asking for reassurance, like, “You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” but it’s clear they’re not convinced.
A tiny mistake or secret gets blown way out of proportion because the trust was already shaky.
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