#btw this is like the first thing ive written since finishing the first draft of alexis like..... 10 days ago

[molloytheboy]

tagged by @dead-ghost-walking to answer these fun fic writing questions!

How many works do you have on AO3? 42

What’s your total AO3 word count? 138,556

What fandoms do you write for? currently just the Vampire Chronicles but when I first got back into fic writing in 2020 it was Dragon Age

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Does it feel like a dream, Mr. Molloy? | Next to Never | The Fight | Come As You Are | If This Be Nothing

5. Do you respond to comments? Usually yes! I love receiving them so I try to encourage it as much as I can by interacting <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably gotta be the fic where I killed Louis (which I do still plan on finishing btw)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Holy Ground :)) this one is sickeningly sweet tbh i was in serious need of some fluff when I wrote it

8. Do you get hate on fics? only very rarely. basically never happens now that I only allow comments from people with accounts

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. all kinds. all of the kinds. VC Kink Week 2023

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? not currently but crossover crackfic was how i started my fic writing career back in high school. craziest was a roleplay with my bestie that involved characters from Naruto, Samurai Champloo, DNAngel, Fruits Basket, Gravitation, and Fullmetal Alchemist

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge. nice thing about writing for such a small fandom someone would probably notice and notify me pretty quick

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? yes

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? idk if i can pick one definitively but its a VC ship for sure. its kind of all of them tbh all the main canon ones. i cycle thru obsessing over each of them depending on the fic im working on. if i was forced to choose at gunpoint i would go with Nickistat

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? hate the phrasing of this how dare u make me face my demons. I will finish all of my wips i will break the cycle and then i will be free and never again be plagued by thoughts about the Characters in Situations. i know this sounds like a cop out answer but i genuinely with all my heart believe that i will eventually get to all 17 of my wips this is simply the extent of my hubris

16. What are your writing strengths? dialogue i think. and smut idk can smut be a strength. tbh i haven't received a lot of constructive feedback on my writing outside of fan spaces so i dont feel qualified to answer this

17. What are your writing weaknesses? over-explaining/over-describing characters actions and motives and emotions in a scene. i feel like this is smth that doesnt come across in my final drafts as much anymore bc ive been actively working on it but this is the thing i consistently struggle with during the process. also i tend to be kind of lazy with research which isnt the best quality to have when you write mostly in historical settings. but with fanfic i feel justifed in only spending one hour instead of three reading up on life in 18th century Paris since i do have a life to get back to at some point. if i was writing for publication i would try harder

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I do it, poorly. almost exclusively French in this fandom, and a little Italian. I do my best to check multiple translation sources (from real speakers if possible) and find example sentences to base my grammar on. but again, this is a hobby so I don't hold myself to the same standard I would if I was doing it professionally

19. First fandom you wrote for? pretty sure my first fanfic was that crossover i mentioned earlier so. all of those

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? oh boy. hold on gimme a sec. ok i think its Against All Odds rn. i was at the top of my game when it comes to Loustat banter (had recently reread the first 3 books) and its very tight and compact and cinematic im still really pleased with it 2 years (??!?!?!?) later

tagging @nightcolorz @butchybats and anyone else who wants to! u can say I tagged u <3

[the-halfling-prince]

Abe please gimme Harlow lore (I’ve seen snippets and am Intrigued)

The Harlow fans are getting FED tonight. (Idk how many of those there are, but there's at least you)

So just so y'all know I've got the basics of the series all planned out, but ive only got the first book written (draft 2 is almost finished). A lot of things I say here may contradict with things ive said in the past or will contradict with things I say in the future. Anyway let's go.

The main setting of the books is The Alavenik Archipelago, a small group of islands who's culture is inspired by (but not super directly) Norse (and a little Celtic) aesthetics. Of course most of the stories take place in the main character, Harlow's, home island of Drakenvel (the southernmost island in the archipelago.) The other islands are called Njotidan, Yfgusti, Krowethia, Nihdrikah, and The UnNamed Island. The islands are home to mostly humans, deer, birds, fox, rabbits, wolves, and oh yeah dragons. There's dragons in my Nordic inspired fantasy books don't look into that too much. (I'm a huge fan of httyd and skyrim what can I say?) The culture around how the Alavenikians treat dragons is basically just they avoid them like the plague. The dragons have human intelligence but they don't speak the same language. Our main character, luckily, is autism and thinks it's weird to not try and befriend the creature of equal intelligence that live in their home. This obviously gets her into trouble.

Drakenvel Island is very small. It's got cliffs all along the western shore, and forests covering most of the island (minus where the village is). The archipelago's islands trade with eachother regularly, and the Drakenvellians have mostly livestock and crops to offer. Their land is good for farming, with the main farm being owned by the Freyrson family (Wintergrow Freyrson is the head farmer. She's not super important to the story but her oldest kid is, just wait).

Another important thing to note about Drakenvel is that epithets are important to them. Almost all of the Drakenvellians go by an epithet/nickname of some sort. It can change later in life but typically it doesn't. The exception to this is the chief and his heir, who go by their real names (aka Harlow and her dad. I didn't bother giving him a name tho ngl). Like Harlow's best friend Tiger, who's real name is Björn. Or his dad, Inkwell, who's real name is also Björn. (Also until very recently in Drakenvel history, all the families had patriarchal last names. But slowly they've been transitioning to just having last names. Some of them have previous family members' epithets as last names, such as the Stormrages and Crowthornes, and some of them kept the patriarchal last name they had when making the change, for example the Freyrsons. Inkwell and Tiger's family hadn't made that change yet, but they basically decided they were going to stick with Björnson, since the past three generations have had that name. Hence Tiger's unfortunate full name being Björn Björnson the Second)

The chief is in charge of the village, but there is a council. This council consists of: Chief Stormrage, Wintergrow Freyrson, Inkwell Björnson (who owns the library), Halvor (the children's training leader, more on that later), Spiderweb and Bloodfell Crowthorne (more on them later. Hate them, tho.), and of course, Harlow. (Cause why wouldnt you have a 12 year old on your council.)

Real quick wanna mention Harlow and Tiger's mothers, Harlow's mother (who doesn't have a name yet I'm working on it) and Bullseye Björnson where adventurers who went missing when Harlow was four and Tiger was two. Harlow was basically raised by her mother's mother, and Tiger was raised by Inkwell (who is the best dad ever btw take notes y'all I love him)

Now I mentioned earlier that the kids have training. So on that: Drakenvel is a mostly peaceful village. But after Halvor first showed up from Yfgusti (a not very peaceful village), he suggested that they start a training program for the youth to learn to fight in the odd chance that they do go to war, just like they had on Yfgusti. The chief wasn't sure, but his wife thought it was a good idea so he agreed to it. From ages 10-18 the kids train in swordfighting, archery, wilderness survival, hunting, etc. They do that a few times a week. Harlow is great at it. Tiger is not. It makes for fun dynamics idk

Okay okay enough of Harlow and Tiger (never) what of the other kids? So glad you asked! There's four other kids in training. Catface Freyrson, Darkwind and Burnchaser Fjordson, and of course, my boy, my main man, the motherfucker himself: Careless Crowthorne. Careless is constantly described as an expert archer. I really like archery so I talk about him and his archery a LOT in the books ngl. Careless and Cateface have a history similar to Harlow and Tiger, extremely loyal childhood best friends, but as circumstances changed Careless and he became a jerk, that rubbed off on Catface (and Darkwind and Burnchaser) and in the words of Catface himself, they "became less friends and more 'the bully and kids who followed because they didn't want to be a victim'". Unfortunately, even after Careless had his half-assed redemption (it gets better in later books but his initial redemption was so bad even Harlow talks about it, he really just wanted to clear his own conscious) the rest of the boys we're still assholes.

Holy shit this is getting long

oh btw Harlow's dad doesn't like Tiger. This bitch has beef with a 10 year old fuck OFF i hate him.

Wait, hold on, aren't there some more important main characters in this... Hmmm... I talk about this all the time who am I forgetting... ah yes.

Daliah. (And another I'll get to next just wait, Cloudstorm fans)

Daliah of Krowethia. A mysterious girl who just showed up on Drakenvel one day. She's secretive, but doesn't really try to be. She just never talks about herself, and everyone else assumes she doesn't want to talk about her past. Anyway, they find out later she mysteriously showed up on the docks of Krowethia as a child, not remembering anything, and being taken in by the owner of a boarding house, a woman named Meilani. More of her another day. But Daliah had an urge to see the rest of the archipelago, and taught herself how to sail, and survival skills, and she went island to island, enjoying the landscapes (and avoiding dragons, which she was deathly afraid of)

Oh yeah there's one more member of their little gang. Another outsider from another land. A little dragon, an Amber-Winged Wyvern by the name of Cloudstorm. Harlow is obsessed with Amber-Winged Wyverns. In the same way someone who will never see their favorite animal IRL would be. Seeing an artic dwelling dragon is an unattainable dream for poor Harlow (me too girlie when do I get to see a caribou just out in the wild. Except her seeing an animal native to the artic is more likely than me seeing a Caribou so damn I guess.) She's only seen illustrations. But yeah then she finds on on her island???? The fuck??? (When will a Caribou show up in the Southern USA come on man. Sorry I got distracted. Anyway.) She talks to the dragon (because of fuckin course she does) and desperately wants to befriend him. Cloudstorm wants nothing to do with this weird kid. The rest of the gang wants nothing to do with this dragon.

More dragons come into the story later, but the first book is very much about the main group becoming, well, a group.

Also the dynamics between Harlow and the other main characters are so fun to me. Harlow and Careless and both headstrong leader types, but Harlow more boisterous, and Careless is more idk menacing is the only word I can think of. Harlow and Daliah are both adventure seekers, but Daliah is a play it safe survivalist, and Harlow is way more spontaneous. Then Harlow and Tiger are almost complete opposites. With Harlow being the boisterous, headstrong, adventurous, spontaneous leader, Tiger is a shy, weak, careful pushover and follower. Yet they're somehow best friends. Harlow and Cloudstorm are basically the same which makes their dynamic so funny. He treats her like she treats her own authority figures. (Not that Harlow is Cloudstorm's authority figure that was just the comparison I had)

idk if I have anything else to add RN but I'm willing to answer any about specific things

[dianaraven]

jacob/benedict for fairy tale au!!! Kevin/Juniper for friends to lovers!!!! Hope and Grey having a lil smooch good morning maybe? Then Roshan dancing with someone of your choice in the rain!!! Di I love all your ocs they all seem delightful

Thank you vivi <3 <3 <3 sorry this is so late

edit: VIVSS I LOOOOVE YOUUU AND THIS TOOK SO LONG CUZ IT WAS ORIGINALLY PROCRASTINATION FOR FINISHING MY BOOK THEN I PROCRASTINATED FINISHING THIS TO FINISH MY BOOK (you know, as you do) SOOOOOOOOO ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS AND BEING PATIENT I LOVE YOUUUU 

Benedict/Jacob Fairy Tale au (i decided to do a tangled au because it reminds me of the same chaotic energy that these boys have)

"This is all your fault!" Ben grumbled as he pulled himself up and out of the river. Jacob glared at him, wringing out his long hair.

Ben shook his head, spraying Jacob with water, and pulled off his shirt in one swift motion.

"All my fault? You're the one who said we'd be safe!" Jacob snapped.

Ben ignored him. He dragged his hand across his pants to wipe the mud off and winced. He must have cut it on one of the rocks in that cave. When the water had poured in... Ben had told Jacob who he really was and Jacob had-

Benedict raised his eyes to Jacob who was carding his fingers through his long chocolate hair. The magic hair. The hair that had glowed.

"If you hadn't demanded we come on this stupid trip-"

"You brought me to that tavern to scare me!" Jacob snapped. "Don't think I didn't realize that."

Yeah, well that hadn't worked, had it? Benedict thought grumpily. The sun was going down, they'd have to make camp. And tomorrow...

Tomorrow they'd reach Aeon, and the castle. And Benedict would be out of time to convince Jacob to give him back the lost prince's crown.

They found a nice spot to make camp, and Benedict went to find wood for a fire, cooling off as he stomped around the forest. This entire situation was insane. He might have been better off at the hands of his ex-partners. At least they would have killed him straight out instead of him drowning after sword-fighting a horse with his only weapon a frying pan. Absolutely insane. 

Ow. Benedict hissed when his hand scraped across the bundle of sticks he’d collected. Benedict squinted at it in the moonlight but couldn’t see well enough. Once they’d made the fire he would check it again, maybe wash it out. The last thing he needed was to catch a rot. Or maybe, Jacob’s hair will glow again and you can see that way. Benedict shuddered as he thought it. He put it as far out of his mind as he could.

When Benedict returned, Jacob’s hair was spread out across the dark grass and dirt. Good thing your hair’s brown, he thought but didn’t say. He wasn’t in the mood to fight with Jacob again. 

Benedict started the fire, wincing from the stinging pain in his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” Jacob asked curtly. Clearly he was still mad. He had one leg slung over the other, and his arms were crossed over his chest. 

“Nothing,” Benedict mumbled. He frowned, and put his hand to the low fire, squinting at it. 

“Clearly its something. What?”

Benedict tried to shrug him off, but Jacob was nothing if not persistant. “Let me see-” Jacob crawled over.

“You’ve done enough-”

“Oh shut up already.” 

Jacob pulled the hand into his lap. “Oh!” He said, surprised. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ve had worse,” Ben said. 

Jacob rolled his eyes. He reached for a lock of his hair before freezing. He gave Benedict a sheepish look. 

“Promise not to freak out.”

Benedict was frozen in fear. Those words never preceded something good. "What?”

“Promise me.”

“Why do I need to promise?”

“Please?”

“Fine, I-uh, I promise I won’t freak out.”

Jacob gave him a frown that said he didn’t believe him, which was fair because Benedict was a) a liar, and b) pretty sure whatever new magic trick that Jacob pulled out of his ass (or magic hair) was going to freak the fuck out of Ben, and Ben would, in fact, freak out despite any promise to the contrary. 

“My hair doesn’t just glow.”

Benedict’s belly went cold. Jacob’s fingers were soft and warm. He was sure his hands weren’t nearly as nice to touch--too rough, the skin cracked and calloused. But Jacob didn’t act as if he minded. 

Jacob took a lock of his long hair, and wrapped it ominously around Benedict’s hand. 

“W-what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

Benedict closed his mouth, as much as he wanted to scream and run as far away as he possibly could. 

Jacob closed his eyes. He had thick but short lashes. They barely brushed his cheeks, but lined his eyes nicely, Benedict supposed. 

Then Jacob started to sing. 

Benedict watched. Every impulse in his body told him to run. Told him to get away from the rushing glow that trickled first from the part of his hair and then followed the hair all the way down. Circling around Benedict’s hand, swirling down the long winding tresses that splayed across the ground. 

Jacob stopped singing, and slowly he unwrapped Benedict’s hand. 

Benedict looked down, and opened his mouth to scream. 

“YOU PROMISED!” Jacob shouted, covering Benedict’s mouth with his hands. 

Benedict’s hand was completely and utterly healed. As good as new. As if it had never been cut in the first place. Benedict hadn’t felt anything! The entire thing happened unbeknownst to him, but now he didn’t feel any pain either. 

It wasn’t actually that scary, Benedict told himself. No, just a little weird. Startling. But not scary. Not scary at all. 

“I’m not going to scream,” Benedict said eventually, muffled by Jacob’s hand. He was surprised to realize that he believed himself. 

Jacob removed his hand, and winced. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not going to scream.”

“Oh, good.”

“Does your-does your hair do anything else? Just, you know, as a fair warning.”

Inside, Benedict’s heart shrieked. GREAT FRICKING GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUCK HOLY-

“Not that I know of,” Jacob said, giving Benedict a small smile. Oblivious to the chaos in Benedict’s mind. “Just the glowing and the healing.”

“Oh.” Benedict heard himself say. His voice sounded much farther away than it should have been. “Okay. I think I need to sit down.”

“You are sitting down.”

“Oh. Good.”

Jacob gave him a nervous glance. “Are-are you sure that you’re okay?”

“All good. Yeah.” Benedict’s mind calmed a little when he looked back at Jacob. Watched Jacob anxiously fiddle with a lock of hair. “Yeah.”

Kevin/Jun friends to lovers

Jun groans and eases the shoes off of her feet. She’s been dancing for so long she thinks they might fall off. The sigh that falls from her lips might border on pleasured, which she is with the way she feels now that her toes are free. She sighs again and wiggles them, cracking them and rolling her ankles. 

“Thought I might find you here,” Kevin says. Jun leans back on her wrists and looks up to him. 

His dress is a sparkling blue, and it swishes wonderfully when he walks. He sits down beside Jun and takes her feet into his lap, rubbing them. Jun lets out a little yelp and would complain if it didn’t feel so good. 

“Alec would not let me sit down!” Jun explains. 

Kevin chuckles. “I’m aware. I tried to peel you away to dance three times. Every time, she managed to distract me.”

“You were dancing too,” Jun accuses. 

Kevin gives her a little grin. Charming and bashful at once. It made something in Jun’s chest flip-flop. But... she shouldn’t be thinking about that. Kevin was her friend. Just her friend. That was all. 

“Like I said, I was distracted.”

Jun lets out a moan as his fingers work out the kinks in the arch of her foot and is immediately embarrassed because woah that’s not a sound you make near one of your friends. It was throaty and raspy and Kevin just smiles pleased with himself. Jun is too annoyed at his smugness to be embarrassed. She does flush though.

“Is every year like this?” she asks, to change the subject. 

“The ball? Yeah, pretty much. Last year Alec and Gray were almost kidnapped, so... that was different.”

Not... what Jun was expecting. “Huh.”

“Yep. I like this better though.”

“The not-having-a-kidnapping? Yeah, I’d like that too.”

Kevin snorted. He put Jun’s right foot down and picked up her left foot. 

“Sure. That and you.” For the first time since she’s known him, he actually looks a little flustered. “You know.”

Jun’s heart leaps. “Oh. Well, I suppose a new person to your... group is-”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” So he... he felt it too?

Kevin’s hands stop. He glances up at her through his lashes, his orange eyes glittering in the pretty lamplight set up for the outdoor areas of the Hall. 

“Is that... I mean-” Kevin asks, quietly. 

“No! I mean... no. I-I, um...” Jun doesn’t know really what to say. She presses her legs over Kevin’s where he propped them up to rub them. They’re leaning closer now. Kevin’s maybe a few inches away from her. Too far for them to be comfortable.

Kevin raises his hands (they’re shaking, Jun notices, and it gives her a thrill) hovering above the bodice of her dress. As if he wants to pull her closer. 

“I... uh, I mean, I was just touching your feet... I don’t want to-”

Jun almost laughs because, well, “they’re my feet, I think I’ll live.”

Kevin does laugh. He smiles at her, that cheeky, smug one that gives him dimples. Jun’s heart flutters again. He holds her gently, pulling her closer, arms around her waist. 

“Good,” he murmurs, and then he kisses her. 

So... maybe he wasn’t just a friend after all.

Hope/Gray morning kisses

“Good morning~” Hope hums in Gray’s ear. Gray groans in his sleep and turns over beneath her arm, burying his face further into the pillow. 

“Hnnnn.” 

Hope moves around Gray to slide out of bed and he grabs her arm, pulling her back in. 

“Gray....”

Gray shifts so she’s pinned under him and he rests his head in the crook of her neck, pressing a light kiss there. 

Hope runs her fingers through his hair and snorts. “Gray, darling, I do have to get up at some point today.”

“Hnnnnnn,” Gray groans again, pulling her closer. “No....”

“In fact, you have to get up too. Possibly in an unpleasant way if Alec gets the chance.”

Gray grumbles again. His breath tickles the short stubble the dots the bottom of her chin. He nestles himself further against her. He kisses her neck again. 

“You’re not going to distract me.”

Gray harrumphs into her neck. 

“Yes, I know. But think of it this way, if you get up now Alec won’t come barging in to dump a bucket of water on you. You do know how much she loves to.”

Gray groans and leans back on his elbows. He blinks his eyes open groggily and rubs the sleep from his lashes. He has morning stubble too, and his hair hasn’t been set so its curls stick up. 

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Princely duties can’t wait.”

Gray pouts so Hope raises herself up and kisses him. If her breath tastes bad, Gray doesn't give any hint. Hope slowly draws herself back to her feet, and Gray follows her. When Hope finally breaks away, Gray pouts again and falls to the sheets with a fwump! 

Hope sighs. “If you get up, I’ll kiss you more,” she teases. 

But it works, just like it works every time. Gray bounces up, feet firmly on the floor and wraps Hope in his long arms. He dips her slightly, and Hope’s heart hammers way too loudly in her chest considering that since they’ve been together it’s been a common occurrence. 

When he finally gives her a reprieve he smiles cheekily. 

“Promise?” he asks. 

Hope ignores the flush she knows it probably darkening her cheeks and blows a puff of air into his face. “You’re a menace. I don’t know how you ever get things done.”

Gray grins and Hope’s heart melts a little. “Why, with kisses as a reward, of course.”

“Menace,” Hope repeats, but she gives him one more reward anyway. 

Roshan & Alec dancing in the rain

The rain sizzles on Roshan’s skin when it hits, but she doesn’t mind. In fact, she revels in it. In the the music still in her veins from the tavern and in the booze that’s warming her blood nicely. Her head is a little tingly and though it was hot earlier, it’s cool now with the rain. The door of the bar is still open, and she can see the orange haze of the warm hearth inside. The musicians inside can still be heard from where she stands. The rain soothes the fire from the evening. 

It’s not dark out, not yet. Just barely evening, but the storm-clouds make the sky a light purple. 

Roshan spins. Her hair whips around her in it’s braid, slapping against her head and smelling deliciously of rain. 

It’s been so long since she’s been like this. Since she’s felt safe enough to do this. In fact, she can’t remember the last time she just stood in the rain. Nor the last time she just felt free. 

Well, she knows the answer to that one. She’s never felt free before. Not like this. 

She doesn’t realize that someone has been watching her--so overjoyed by no longer having to hide. Maybe she should be holding onto those prey instincts. Maybe she hasn’t lost them, maybe it’s just the smell of the dirt, the cool of the rain, and the fire in her veins. 

Roshan puts her hands on her hips. Alec stands under the lip of the roof, just barely out of the rain. Roshan almost laughs, she’s never seen it before but because of the dark of the sky and the shadow the roof offers, she can see it now. Alec’s eyes (the color of ice chips, of frostbitten lips, of the poison a queen gives her husband) really do glow. If ever so slightly. 

When Roshan’s dark eyes meet Alec’s light ones, Alec smiles. An ever so slight quirk of her lips. 

“What?” Roshan demands. 

“I’ve never seen you so happy before,” she says, voice raised over the roar of the downpour. 

“I’ve never been happy before,” Roshan replies, a little more harshly than Alec deserves. But Roshan knows Alec, and knows that she can take it. She can take anything Roshan throws at her, as she’s proven again and again and again. 

Alec pushes herself off of the wall and walks into the oncoming rain, not even flinching. 

It’s something Roshan admires about her, not that she’d ever tell Alec. No. Maybe others might--Hope or Gray--but Roshan and Alec know one another. They don’t need such silliness between them. 

“You know,” Alec says, lowering her voice as she comes closer. Her short black hair sticks to her pale face. Thunder rumbles overhead. Lightning flashes. “I don’t remember you dancing much at the ball.”

“I didn’t dance at all,” Roshan says. She’s not ashamed or embarrassed. Back then she couldn’t even let anyone touch her, much less dance. 

Well, anyone except Alec. Alec always seemed to think that the rules didn’t apply to her. 

Alec holds out a hand, giving a mocking bow to go with it. “Then, may I?”  

Roshan rolls her eyes, but she takes the hand. Despite her eyes and demeanor, Alec is warm to the touch. Alec pulls her in close as the faint music of the tavern switches to a soulful ballad and rests her other hand on the small of Roshan’s back. And together, they dance in the rain. 

[peaamlipoetrydoctor]

"Mid-Life" - Phase Poem

(and connections with my NaPoWriMo 2022 poems)

Since September, I've been attending a Poetry School writing workshop taught by poet and translator Astrid Alben - and during the Spring term of that workshop, Astrid encouraged us to work on a linked sequence of poems around a "core theme" of our poetry.

Well, pretty much since starting my doctorate with Hult Ashridge (in 2017, now happily completed - phew!), my themes have been:

i) oh-my-gosh how can the damage to our environment be so serious and still continuing but certainly seems like it is...

ii) if nothing we do matters, the only thing that matters is what we do (the anti-nihilist stance of simultaneously giving up all hope of making a difference and in the same beat, recommitting to investing each remaining moment of life in the best way possible - only that perception of what that means might have shifted significantly...)

iii) wow I'm feeling old/er - wasn't expecting to feel so old so soon - guess this is what it's like being in this body at this age/stage, eh?

iv) there's joy to be experienced in this moment and in tuning into the chaotic /and yes sometimes terrible/ brilliance of surrounding Nature

and

v) at the end of the day, it's insanely amazing that life - complex, consciousness-bearing life - exists at all and that's cause for celebration every day - and whilst carefully refusing to erase the other emotion/truths, the grief at everything lost or destroyed, the engulfing rage at the many cruelties and unjust outcomes...

All of these are context and framework for the poetry pamphlets I've been working on (the "poetry and climate crisis" series) - but probably the "aging/mid-life" piece got the least attention - was the hardest to keep in focus, because most personal, I'm guessing.

So Astrid's invitation was a great opportunity to try again, and the sequence of poems I'm working on is tentatively entitled "mid-life, though not sure that will be the final title and not completely sure either whether they'll go out into the world as a set or separately...

By the end of the class, I had 10 draft poems that all worked together reasonably well and which are, in my eyes, reasonably well developed drafts. At one stage, I naively thought that maybe I'd spend NaPoWriMo drafting some more raw material - and then by the time I finished the month, I believed that I hadn't really written anything on topic at all, other than for the first official prompt of April, which features the character Fog and her doddery pet dog.

Reviewing the poems now, I'd say neither of these POV are quite right - a number of my April poems were nothing to do with this project but around 10 were, and are tucked away into my draft document for further mulling.

These were -

01 April - Fog Gets to Know Her New Body

03 April - Glosa, after (and not entirely in agreement with Elizabeth Barrett Browning) - a negotiation about "non-heroic" kinds of love

06 April - Things Fall Apart (from Yeats, The Second Coming)

08 April - Papparazzi - the theme of different lives / different choices

10 April - Lost Love Poem II - the II in the title here is because I wrote Lost Love Poem I for the Mid-Life sequence in question...

13 April - Temerity - on why I insist on hoping-beyond-hope

16 April - Persistence - effectively the same poem, different form?

21 April - To Dream or To Scream? - a poem about my ex-husband (the dream/scream of the [TERRIBLE] title refer to paintings BTW)

27 April - String Theory - different lives again

and the "bonus" poem, Reminiscing with Alice - nostalgia.