#8 Rules for Writing

[10cities10years]

8 Rules of Writing

[This week, I led a session at the Madrid Writer’s Critique Group on important writing rules. My focus wasn’t on broad edicts like “write every day” or “write what you know,” but rather on the more technical rules of writing that elevate one’s work and give it the air of professionalism. This post summarizes that session.] Artists are rulebreakers. They want to pave the path, not follow it.…

[archorcist]

thinking about adam's heaven takeover verse ...

[barebevil]

It's the most wonderful time of the year by which i mean its my favorite season by WHICH i mean the My Favorite Books Of The Year youtube videos are imminent. I watch so many of those fucking things i eat them UPPPP but not without prejudice. I love a My 10 Favorite Reads or a Top 20 Books Of The Year, these are beautiful these are perfect to me. a top 5 is good too. Where I draw the line is if i see in the title, and these people always put the number in the fucking title they just cannot help themselves, that theyve read 90 books this year or 120 books or some higher even stupider number. I simply do not care what these people have to say about the books they read. I don't believe they spent enough time and energy on any one of those books to have anything meaningful to say!! 200 books in a year? that's not even reading to me anymore. I don't think.. i'm a slow reader, i'm well aware, i think read hard before picking up a new book because I know it's an investment of my time and my energy and my brain power and thoughts and feelings, i dont read that many books so i want to really CARE about the books I read. but I dont THINK this comes from a place of bitterness or jealousy. I just do not believe that someone who read 120 books in a year CARES enough about any one book that they could say anything truly meaningful about it. do you think someone who read 100 books really thought about those books?? like I have a hard time believing they were affected by those books. Don't you want to be affected?? don't you want to care?? Why don't you want to CARE???? anyway where was i. FAVORITES. I'm so excited I love hearing about people's favorite reads i'm gonna watch 100 of these its the most wonderful time of the yearrrrrr

[good-beanswrites]

Reading fic: Hell yeah!!! I am having so much fun and this is spectacular!!!!! I've been so attentive to the characters that it hasn't once crossed my mind to pay attention to grammar and rules!!!! Peace and love on planet earth!!!!!

Reading my own fic: what. why are there so many mistakes. bad grammar. bad structure. bad punctuation. why does anyone let me post. Mrs [high school teacher] would personally come kill me for these errors. Dr [college professor] would cry seeing this. I am a disgrace. I should be shot.

[im-overstimulated-and-im-sad]

“TK: Dad, thanks for doing this.

Owen: (hugs him) TK…, thank you.

TK: For what?

Owen: I wouldn’t know where to begin”.

[happy-lemon]

"So, I've been thinking...we've got some life fruits in the storage chest that how-many-ever-greats grandma Kana harvested on a quest in Egypt," Fable said, later that day. "And how hard can it be to catch a deathfish?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Put your genius brain to use for something other than miserable books about miserable people being miserable. Catch the fish. Learn the recipe for ambrosia. Bring her back, Dad," Fable said. "Bring Anna back!"

[maeaneke]

Socialist provocateur Cho Hakkai is very concerned about why the sanzo priests have not unionized against... Heaven?

He isn't wrong though.

[scare-ard--sleigh]

what should be my real housewives of beverly hills replacement once i catch up? keep in mind that this is to fill a reality tv specific hole in me and i watch that show bc i love Mess !!

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Hello, is this thing on? May I have a

32. A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.

For Vaxleth, preferably MFL?

Thank yuuuuuuuu <3

32. A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards. read these first

turned my water into wine #21

Vax is going to die. He knows it, can taste it like blood on his tongue. He has been a thief for as long as he can remember, but what he stole last night, he can never return, and he'll hang for it. He sits on his bed, staring at the floor. Does he run? Does he stay and face his fate like a man? And what of Vex'ahlia—will she be indicted for his crime as well? All these years he's spent trying to protect her, to give her the life she deserves, and this is how it all ends. His father was right; he is a disappointment.

He makes up his mind. He dresses, limbs wooden, and kisses his sister on the cheek as she eats her breakfast, still half-asleep. If she notices his despair, she doesn't say anything, but then, neither does he, and certainly she deserves more than his silence on the matter.

(A warning. A chance to flee. But no, not Vex'ahlia. She'll use the opportunity to beg for mercy on his behalf, and he cannot have her tied up in this. He'll hope, then, for a goodbye.)

The guards at the gate wave their customary hello as he approaches the castle. He can't feel his face; maybe he smiles back. Either way, there is no indication that they've been given orders to apprehend him, and he passes through as if this morning were like any other. He is so good at going unnoticed, and few eyes find his as he beats the familiar path to her chambers. The night guard, Jarett, bids him good morning, and Vax sees nothing on his face to suggest accusation or affront. Rather, Jarett claps him on the shoulder, nods once, and heads off to the barracks to sleep.

Vax stands frozen in the middle of the hall. What is he to do now? If Key—the princess is asleep, surely waking her will not assuage the situation. He will wait, then, where he ought to, just beside the door, arms at his sides. He is a thief, but he is not a coward.

He waits five, ten, fifteen minutes, and then the door opens, just a crack. His head whips to the side, far too eager, and there is a familiar, brilliant green eye peering at him. "You're here."

Oh, this heart. He ignores its stuttering. "I...am."

"Will you...please, come in." The door widens and she disappears.

So is this how he is to learn of his fate, a death sentence delivered on the lips of the one who haunts him? He pushes inside, leaving the door wide open, unwilling to compromise either of them further, but she shakes her head. "Please, I need to speak with you."

Reluctantly, he closes the door, and being alone with her in the daylight feels far more criminal than any moment stolen at night. They stare at each other, him just inside the door, her at the foot of her bed, for a long, agonizing minute, before the silence chokes them both and they say simultaneously, "I'm sorry."

They exchange bewildered looks. "Your Highness," Vax says, "I don't understand. Whatever do you have to be sorry for?"

She blinks. "I kissed you, Vax."

There's a low buzzing in his ear. "I kissed you, Your Highness. And I will never be able to repair the offense."

A hundred emotions flash across her face before she settles on something akin to hurt. "I...why are you calling me that?"

He knows why she's asking. It was weeks ago that she asked him to call her Keyleth when there were no other ears around to hear the impropriety. It is a familiarity that he has not taken lightly—though, given last night's transgression, perhaps he has.

"I have taken a grave liberty, Your Highness, and I cannot make the mistake again."

Her head tilts to the side. "Vax...do you think that I regret what happened last night?"

Oh. Oh. This is a direction he had not considered. "I...I don't..."

"Because I don't." She ducks her head. "Perhaps I should. Perhaps it is wrong of me to be so..." She abandons her sentence and meets his gaze again. "But I don't. You have been...a comfort to me, all these nights, but more than that..." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I find myself craving your company at all hours of the day. When you are not near, I feel I am lost, adrift. I have never felt this way before, and when we...well. When we kissed, for the first time in so very, very long, my mind was quiet. It was the most peace I've felt in years."

Vax is staggered. He cannot believe his legs still support him. A thousand sentences spring to the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them all down. He takes a step forward, and when he does, she says quickly, "I do not expect you to return the affection. I do not expect anything of you. If you wish to leave your position, I understand. You are under no obligation to—"

In a moment, he's closed the gap between them. Mere inches separate them, and Keyleth's breath hitches as his hands slowly, so slowly, come to rest upon the column of her neck. "Keyleth," he murmurs, "may I please kiss you?"

Her pupils are wide as the full moon. She nods. He leans in, and already so early in the morning, she smells like apples and sunshine. His lips find hers, and they are soft, pliant, warm. He feels his heart pounding in his ears, so thrilling is it to be holding her, tasting her in the daylight. The kiss is everything their first kiss should have been, instead of some fleeting thing in the night.

When he pulls away, he cannot yet open his eyes. He lets the taste of her linger, feels the soft pull of her throat as she swallows. When he does look, he finds her eyes also closed, lips parted in a tableau of bliss that makes his stomach flip.

"Keyleth." Her eyes flutter open, like she's surprised to hear him speak. "I do not know what happens next."

She smiles, brings her hands to rest atop his forearms. "Nor do I. But I know I would very much like you to do that again."

And who is he to deny a princess such a wish?

[shmothman]

realizing I’ve been wrong about a grammar thing for years and falling into a fit of despair

[sapphicblight]

tagged by @lu-sn​

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words

caught me at a rare time where i’m writing something other than vegaspete:

His voice is soft, far too sweet and gentle to be addressing someone like Kim. 

tagging people who might have already been tagged? with no obligation whatsoever: @t4tvegaspete @babygirlvegas @clandestinegardenias @kerrikins @hawkshadowwrites​ 

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 195

Adjective: Cloistered

Noun: Crown

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Cloistered: having or enclosed by a cloister, as in a monastery; kept away from the outside world; sheltered

Crown: a circular ornamental headdress worn by a monarch as a symbol of authority, usually made of or decorated with precious metals and jewels; the reigning monarch, representing a country's government; an ornament, emblem, or badge shaped like a crown; a wreath of leaves or flowers, especially that worn as an emblem of victory in ancient Greece or Rome; an award or distinction gained by a victory or achievement, especially in sports; the top or highest part of something; the top part of a person's head or a hat; the part of a plant just above and below the ground from which the roots and shoots branch out; the upper branching or spreading part of a tree or other plant; the upper part of a cut gem, above the girdle; the point of an anchor at which the arms reach the shaft; the part of a tooth projecting from the gum; an artificial replacement or covering for the upper part of a tooth; a British coin with a face value of five shillings or 25 pence, now minted only for commemorative purposes; a foreign coin with a name meaning ‘crown,’ especially the krona or krone; a paper size, now standardized at 384 × 504 mm; a book size, now standardized at 186 × 123 mm; a book size, now standardized at 246 × 189 mm

[littledead-ridinghood]

I support Jason being a triple-A battery, that boi is not straight/cis

“You’re projectin—” maybe! Or maybe I’m recognizing the very queer patterns within Jason Todd. Ones that I, myself, walked when I was figuring out my shit! So there! HA!

I think it just fits 😌

Like I have my half written AroAce meta that’s missing panels and is currently half my screaming incoherently because oh boy! Do I have something to tell you, Jason, about saying romantic love is just platonic love a little stronger because man oh man apparently no it’s not! And wanting to date a girl because it’s what you’re supposed to do?! Fuckin’ GAAAA—(of which “it’s what you’re supposed to do” again another in progress idea)

And Jason’s story can be used as a perfect metaphor for transness which Automatically make him trans. Sorry, I don’t make the rules, I just follow the subtext :/ (Also Another meta in progress. I have a list and that list makes me happy because I like writing essays)

[acertainmoshke]

Thanks for all the STS asks!! I have read them, I am excited, and I will get to them—but possibly between tomorrow and Monday. I spent half of today at shul (I volunteered to run a book club?? Who am I?) and the other half trying to finish unpacking and sorting out the living room. I will also go through to look at everyone else’s STS answers the next time I’m sitting at my computer

[likehephaestionwhodied]

Some Kinda Love

Between thought and expression Lies a lifetime Situations arise Because of the weather And no kinds of love Are better than others

Johnathan [Jack] Marleau 1940-2016

Artist born in LA joined the anti-war movement. Leaves LA when his lover is killed in Vietnam, joins the NYC leather community. Does covertly homoerotic paintings that sell for way too much. Has won Mr. Eagle New York multipule times most recently in 1986 where he was sent to Chicago to compete in International Mr. Leather. He did not win.  Wears his keys on his left hip, flogger and red hanky in his back left pocket. [Later in life he wears handcuffs on the middle most beltloop in the back]

Mikey Squires 1960-199

Left small town Ohio when he was 16. Found a job in a record shop, he can’t think of something better to do. Don't let the shirt fool you, he cried hearing about the lawsuits following the Smith’s breakup. Joined the leather community almost by accident but was sold when he met Jack at The Eagle in 1984. The Eagle sent him as their representative to Chicago to compete in International Mr. Bootblack, which he won, in 1991  a year after his HIV diagnosis. He wears his keys on his right hip, a yellow hanky and a black hanky in his back right pocket. 

Marcus Joseph 1994-2015

A photographer, born and raised in San Francisco, he hitch hiked across the country in 1969 to Woodstock, when he got back to San Francisco Queer Liberation was in full swing and he turned to photographing the community from Polk to Folsom. A freewheeling lover no one thought he would ever settle down. He was first runner up for International Mr. Leather in 1986. He wears his keys on his left hip, a black hanky and grey hanky in his back left pocket. 

Callum [Cal] Nelson 1955-2016

Born in England, Callum, moved to San Francisco to study English at the University of California San Francisco. As a PhD student he publishes a collection of poems about queer masculinity. He soon gets a job at UC Berkeley and teaches classes for their queer studies program. He is introduced to the leather scene by a member of his cohort, and immediately meets and falls in love with Marcus.  he is diagnosed HIV+ in 1987. He competes for, and wins International Mr. Leather in 1991, He and Marcus get married in 2013, Jack officiates the ceremony. He wears his keys on the right, a red hanky in his back left pocket and a light blue hanky in his right

Riley Williams 1945-1969

Born in LA Riley met Jack at an anti-war action. He doesn't know how he could have gotten so lucky when Jack kisses him the first time. unfortunately that’s where his luck runs out. When Jack brings the mail to the living room his face is sheet white as he hands Riley the letter on the top. Riley can’t open it he sees it’s from the selective service. He does not last a year in Vietnam. 

[casual-eumetazoa]

i never see anyone talk about how cheap it is to live in Eastern Europe like. provided you aren't paying rent (and where i am, less than 10% of the population rent, the rest either have their own place or live in community housing such as student dorms or social housing), you can live pretty well on a minimum wage!

me and my bf spent half a year living off of 400$ a month, which is actually below minimum wage though not by much. we don't pay rent so this money mostly goes to food, transport, meds, and nice things. we had to do a fair bit of budgeting but it really wasn't that hard. we spend less than 200$ a month on all supermarket trips and despite insane inflation this year, i am consistently surprised about how much food you can buy with the equivalent of 20$... like, we need two people (2 full shopping bags plus my backpack) to carry 20$ worth of food every supermarket trip. a bus ticket for an hour is less than a dollar. train ticket to a different city is like 10 bucks for me (with a student discount). i used to go to therapy every week to a very good specialist and she charged less than 30$ an hour

this is why i am so obsessed with making YouTube or writing into an income source like. i could happily and easily live off of a 100 of five dollar patrons. a very modest book advance of 5k dollars would feed me and another person for a year... yeah