#data redundancy

[techdriveplay]

What Should You Look for in a NAS?

In today’s digital world, data storage and security are essential, both for personal and business use. Whether you have a growing library of family photos, critical work documents, or media collections, a reliable storage solution is paramount. Network-Attached Storage (NAS) systems offer an efficient way to store, back up, and access data across devices from anywhere. But with so many NAS…

[cityandking]

the definition of insanity

doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is the definition of insanity or, a fragment of a timeloop bran/sabine, 1.5k. dark au. sabine belongs to @snapdragonling

By the hundredth cycle, Amaretti is a relief.

“I want her brought to me,” Branwen says, as she has in every iteration of this stinking, sinking, unchanging day, ever since the first time she locked herself in her quarters and news came at sunset of Amaretti’s death at the hands of her overzealous underlings. “Alive. Minimal damage. She has intelligence on her rebel friends and I want it. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” says her lieutenant, the same way he has the past sixty days. Two months is an age and nothing at all in the endless circle of today. It embarrasses her to have taken so long to accept the repetition. But the repetitive nature of the situation has done her some good; she knows by now that her underlings will not argue with her on this, no matter how openly she expresses her desire to see the woman. That, she thinks, should be a balm. To know they trust her in this.

Truthfully, after so many cycles, it feels like a condemnation. But it is one she will think on after, when she is not trapped living the same day over and over and over again.

And in any case, her condemnation is well-earned. In the past hundred days, they have never once brought her Amaretti alive and undamaged. If she wishes the woman in any state to speak—and it would be folly, of course, to wish for the woman; but all of this is folly, and Branwen wants out—then she must seek out the rebel herself.

She has gotten used to this part. When her lieutenant leaves, she tells her secretary she will be out for the day and to keep a record of her calls. Then she dons coat and sword and steps out into the churning city.

Though of course, the city isn’t her destination. She’s learned this too. She could, if she desired, track the rebellion spies to their hideout in the warehouse district, or follow the mole in her own ranks to the inn where he plays cards with a two-faced gambler that runs their messages. She has done both these things—and been caught out, and been successful. It doesn’t matter. No matter who she turns in, no matter who she arrests, no matter who she hunts down with the full force of the garrison, every morning she wakes the same, to the clanging of the garrison bell and the call for the shift change. It is always the same humid spring day; she is always one step behind.

So— No. She does not seek those familiar paths. Instead she seeks the only thing—the only person—who ever offers anything of interest in this interminable, unending farce. She sees Amaretti, who she will find just beyond the city’s walls, standing at the docks and staring at the water as she does each and every morning of today that Branwen suffers through.

This cycle, she doesn’t bother with stealth or subterfuge. Odds are Amaretti will notice her in any case, and today she feels… bold, perhaps. Hopeless, perhaps. There is not so much distance between the two as she’d like to think. In any case, the hooded figure twitches when she approaches.

“A fine morning,” Branwen announces, as she had the last time, and just like the last time Amaretti turns neatly on her heel and throws a knife. The first time it had hurt, steel in her gut, and the ensuing fight had been bloody and pointless. Today she steps out of the way before the blade leaves Amaretti’s hand. She considers attempting to catch it, if only to prove a point, but she is uninterested in losing fingers so soon after dawn. Perhaps next time.

She has long given up hope that there will not be a next time.

“Peace,” she cautions. This is also rote. “I’m not here to fight.”

“So you say,” says Amaretti, as she has every morning this past month—or at least every morning Branwen has come to find her, which is a count higher than the mornings she has not. The bustle of the docks continues around them, oblivious to the captain and the rebel woman both. They are only two loitering figures amidst the bustle. Today, with so very much time on her hands, Branwen can appreciate the anonymity.

“A paltry truth, I admit,” Branwen allows. She has not yet decided what she will be today—demanding, hateful, lenient, hopeful, vicious, despairing. A hundred days offers many masks to try; Branwen has yet to find the right one to unlock whatever curious, miserable cage this is. “But a truth nevertheless.”

“Prove it,” Amaretti demands. Branwen knows what she seeks here; she slides her sword from its scabbard and offers it.

“If you mean to run me through,” she says as Amaretti reaches out—and Branwen knows this is on her mind because she has experienced it, far worse than a knife in the gut— and because she has turned the blade on Amaretti herself and watched her bleed out in the morning light— “I would request you hear what I have to say first.”

This stays Amaretti, as it has every time. What a relief, Branwen thinks, to know she is not the only one with such a burning curiosity. How well matched they are. Today, her attention linger on Amaretti longer than it should.

“Which is?” Amaretti demands, taking her sword. The basket of the hilt is awkward around her hand, and yet she bears the weight well. Branwen has spent many cycles refusing to acknowledge this; she will not think on it today either.

“There is a mage in this city,” says Branwen, though she is not yet certain that is true. This is the part Amaretti is for. “Who seeks to undermine us both. You, I think, understand the old adage. The enemy of my enemy.”

Amaretti laughs in her face. “Prove it.”

“Alright,” says Branwen, who knows this exchange well. The words trip from her tongue, familiar in their repetition and yet strange as always. Some days she hardly believes herself. “We are living the same day over and over again.”

Amaretti’s eyes narrow.

“You—“

“Jest,” Branwen fills in for her. “And speak falsehoods.”

As always, this does not startle her as much as Branwen wishes it would.

“If knowing my words is meant to be proof—“

“Then you will require a better argument.”

Now she pauses, more hitch than anything. “Yes.”

“This is the forty-second time we have had this conversation,” says Branwen. “The first time I attempted it, you stabbed me.”

“I still might,” says Amaretti, as Branwen knew she would. She has. “You’re talking shit.”

“I know,” says Branwen. “But, Sabine—“ And there, her name gives her pause. “There is something in this city holding us in stasis. In checkmate. Neither of us might move until it is broken.”

“And you expect me to believe you.”

“Yes,” says Branwen, and this is new. In the past she has made pleas, has argued, has cajoled. Threats, she has found, work best, but only in the short term. And Branwen is tired of short-term solutions. “I think you of all people know to believe me when I speak the truth.”

It is, she will admit, a gamble. Their entanglements have only ever been brief, and often bloody, and entirely at odds. But there is something in Amaretti’s sharp gaze that cuts, and Branwen relies on it now. She does not hide from the incision. She seeks it.

It, at least, might prove she is not entirely mad. That there is something to this that bears curiosity, investigation. That the endless churning wheel of today might one day end, and tomorrow might come. A hundred days is not so long, but it is too long for this.

It is a long, long minute before Sabine’s expression hardens. But that to is a decision, and one Branwen knows. Even here, unarmed upon the docks, her shoulders ease.

It is the ultimate height of foolishness to trust her, this woman who wants her dead nearly as much as Branwen seeks to see her in chains, with their futures. But she has been here so long. She does not know where else to turn.

“Very well, captain,” says Sabine, and the acceptance is as sweet as any relief and twice as novel. Branwen keeps the emotion off her face. Sabine does not offer her the sword back, and Branwen does not ask for it. If this cycle ends the same as all the others then she will have learned something. Until then, a strange and tender part of her is willing to trust Sabine with the blade.

For now, at least.

"You have questions," Branwen says, because Sabine always has questions. The woman nods.

Still, though. The first question surprises her. This, of course, is why Branwen seeks her out—even in the unchanging tract of today, she still offers novelty. Offers insight. Offers something worth looking for, when everything else is unerringly the same.

"You seek a common enemy." Sabine pushes her hair out of her face and says, unflinching, “What do you have in mind?”

[punkbxt]

the people in charge of nutrek dont care about the ideals and premise of star trek and star trek: picard is its biggest tell. its a story that would have been much better if they hadnt brought back legacy characters but also would have been much better had it not been written at all because nobody wants more space cops

the moment picard decided to wash his hands clean of the romulan android situation was the moment i knew that oh this isnt the picard everyone has come to know and love. at his core who he is someone that would not let anyone die if he could help it. like thats his thing if he has the power to help he will!! and yeah sure thats shown in pic too but he literally was like ‘fuck you federation im not gonna help u ignore the romulans cries for help’ when he fr coulda just asked for forgiveness after helping with the power he had as a respected captain or whatever he is. something EVERY oldtrek captain has done time and time again

and yes! characters and their ideals change over time but not fucking like THAT

pic takes a tragedy, a genocide, and takes the romulans, a species that has for the most part always been the enemies of the federation and makes them easy prey. it makes them evil except for those that defected or disguised themselves (look up white passing and what it was actually for and why its a thing). and to put it into more understandable words:

lets say the federation is usamerica (bc for all intents and purposes thats literally what it represents) and that the romulans represent people of color and jews. pic serves for us on a platter that the genocide was just another thing that happened and “its okay they died anyways. romulans have never been on the side of the federation and never wanted to be anyways so no loss” this is what the federation believes

pic has been severely affected by white supremacist and antisemitic ideology and like while yeah science fiction is used to discuss and challenge the oppression we experience today, youd think a franchise that has always preached about diversity inclusion and acceptance would finally get over mass genocide of a “lesser” race as a form of storytelling. its uncomfortable and not in a way in which it makes you think but in a way that shows that even hundreds of years in the future vitriol prevails and it fucking sucks. its harmful towards people of color and jews when even in science fiction we cant escape that someone out there wants us dead

we’ve had enough of white supremacy and antisemitism taking a lil seat at the table to cause ruckus there are 100% other things that could have created and interesting dilema. the federation is literally on some cristobal colon shit n the more nutrek that gets made the less star trek holds up the ideals of diversity inclusion acceptance and love that it preached from its inception. we are instead given a narrative that yeah no matter how long you fight no matter how hard you fight you will NEVER win because systemic racism always wins in the end. its a tired and weak narrative and just goes to show if you dont have any other engaging stories to tell just stop telling the stories and stop ruining characters by making them do things they absolutely wouldnt even stand for

we r stuck with characters that suck up to other characters just because of their legacy and the writing when everyone deserves to be way more mad at picard. sidenote all of the genuine progress that has been made in television with diversity and representation has gone like 20 steps back when it comes to portraying people of color bc not ONE from the main crew passes the paper bag test (again ive only seen season one) which further goes to show white supremacist ideals subtly shining through

the point of star trek is that there will be a better more welcoming loving kinder future than the present and the past. and yeah theyve never been good at portraying that exactly because hope cannot exist without despair. but if you do not learn the mistakes of the past you are bound to repeat them and clearly these writers have not been studying the source material

hope this helps idk man i just b saying shit sometimes sorry if some stuff is repetitive

[aismallard]

what exactly is the storage capacity of a minnow

i love flash drives theyre like small animals to me. like minnows

[dragonfromthewoodlands]

by the way if your software test says "input required information. expected result: information appears" then I'm sorry but I am viciously eviscerating you in my mind

[the-bias-identifierrrr]

I am willing to accept a degree of variable repetition when you’ve clearly pieced a dataframe together from multiple sources.

But.

Having Year and Year.Code from the same dataframe, with the EXACT same values, RIGHT next to each other, is too much. Clean your data even SLIGHTLY before making it publicly available, I BEG of you

[orcelito]

I've got my advising appointment for next semester tomorrow, so I got to checking it all out. I will need to take Three more classes, out of the following...

Two of them have to be from the list of packaged app software solution, software development methods, and advanced systems design & integration. First two are prioritized, tho the third is there of either of the first aren't. Tho I'm a little confused bc none of these are listed in the class offerings for next semester??? But theyre requirements???? I'm gonna be asking my advisor about that.

And Then I have a selective. Just one. But I made a list of a bunch that I Could take & potentially would be useful in my career, ordered in preference priority:

Six sigma data quality

Enterprise data management

Policy, regulation, and globalization in information technology

Front end web coding

Applied machine learning

UNIX administration

Advanced systems development methodologies

Quality engineering in IT

Research methodology & design

Network engineering fundamentals

WHICH IS TO SAY...

A lot of tech possibilities lol. Last two are down there only bc they're restricted to another sub-major until open registration, so I probably won't get in. But I included them just in case :p

In general, out of my last semester I'd like to get more knowledge about coding and enterprise IT shit. Whatever could be most useful for me in an IT career.

[vastedge330]

Choosing the right cloud disaster recovery solution requires careful consideration of factors like Recovery Point Objectives (RPO), Recovery Time Objectives (RTO), data security, scalability, cost, and vendor reliability. Implementing best practices can minimize downtime and data loss, ensuring that businesses remain resilient during disasters.

[thedbahub]

Normalization in SQL Server 2022: Enhancing Data Integrity and Reducing Redundancy

In the realm of database management, the concept of normalization stands as a cornerstone for designing efficient, reliable, and scalable databases. SQL Server 2022, with its advanced features and capabilities, continues to emphasize the importance of normalization for reducing data redundancy and improving data integrity. This blog article delves into the essence of normalization, detailing its…

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #25

Danny Fenton hadn’t meant to punch Captain America in the face. In fact, he’d spent the better part of the week trying not to punch anyone, despite the rapidly growing laundry list of reasons to lose his cool—like not sleeping for seventy-two hours because Technus decided to merge his data with every Bluetooth speaker in the tri-state area, or the GIW tracking his every move again, or that weird, suspicious portal energy he kept picking up from somewhere labeled Stark Tower. Danny was running on fumes, ghostly adrenaline, and one too many Red Bulls when it happened. Really, the stars aligned perfectly for an international incident.

He’d only been in New York for six hours, trying to find the source of the energy spike without alerting every superhero on the block—because the last thing he needed was to get into it with the Avengers. Again. The last time had involved Hulk trying to punch a ghost and failing miserably, Thor throwing Mjölnir into the Ghost Zone, and Iron Man demanding to know if ectoplasm was FDA approved. It was a whole thing.

Danny was crouched on the rooftop of some high-rise, scanning with a modified Fenton Specter-Tracker, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly. He hadn’t slept since Monday. It was Thursday.

“Hey, kid,” came a voice behind him, calm but firm.

Danny spun like a feral cat, eyes glowing, hair frizzed out with ghost static. He registered the silhouette of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, carrying a star-shaped shield—and his brain went danger. Ghost hunter? No. GIW agent? No. Super-soldier-hydra-time-travel-experiment?

He didn’t even process it. He just swung.

There was a crack like a thunderclap, followed by the very human sound of pain—a grunt that broke mid-voice like it had surprised the man himself. Captain Steve Rogers staggered back, hand pressed to his jaw, blinking stars out of his vision and trying to comprehend the fact that someone had just hit him hard enough to make him feel it. Not just feel it—wince. His serum-enhanced, war-hardened, literally-punched-by-Thor-once jaw hurt.

Danny stood frozen, fist still outstretched, pupils blown wide in horror.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. I just punched Captain America. I just decked the star-spangled man with a plan. I am so sorry—I thought you were a ghost! Or like—a time-traveling war criminal! Wait, that’s redundant—”

“Okay, wow,” Steve mumbled, touching his jaw again. “That’s definitely gonna bruise.”

Danny looked like he was about to combust. “Why were you behind me like that?! Who just materializes out of nowhere and says ‘hey, kid’ in the middle of a rooftop stakeout?! I thought I was being ambushed!”

Steve blinked. “I was asking for directions.”

Danny gasped. “You were WHAT?”

Steve looked sheepish. “Tony dropped me off on the wrong building. Said, and I quote, ‘GPS is for cowards.’ I’ve been circling the same three blocks for twenty minutes.”

Danny stared. “Captain America got lost and asked a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager for directions?”

“I didn’t know you were a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager,” Steve said defensively. “You looked… competent. Specter-tracker aside.”

Danny made a strangled noise and sat down hard, face buried in his hands. “I’m going to be assassinated by your PR team.”

Steve rubbed his jaw again. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“That is not the point here!”

“No, seriously,” Steve insisted, kneeling down. “That punch? I’ve taken hits from Thanos. You rattled me.”

Danny peeked through his fingers. “Are you flirting with me?”

“What? No!”

“You’re complimenting my punch like it’s a pickup line.”

“I’m—okay, no. You’re a kid.”

“I’m nineteen!”

Steve squinted. “You look like you’ve been through five timelines and one midlife crisis.”

“I have!” Danny wailed. “Do you know what it’s like to babysit the entire ghost population of the afterlife and then accidentally elbow Thor in the ribs during a training session because you forgot he was behind you?! I’m a walking international crisis!”

Steve paused. “Wait. You trained with Thor?”

“Long story. I died once, came back, now I punch ghosts for fun and may or may not be legally considered a WMD by six governments.”

Steve took a long breath. “Do all teenagers do this now? Or is this just a… you thing?”

Danny groaned. “Just me. I’m special.”

Steve lowered his shield and sat cross-legged like they were about to have a heart-to-heart. “You okay, kid?”

“No! I haven’t slept in three days, my enemies keep possessing animatronics to scare me, and I just committed accidental patriotic assault!”

Steve tried not to smile. He really did. “You got a name?”

Danny sighed. “Danny. Danny Fenton. Or Phantom. Depends on how you know me.”

Steve looked intrigued. “You’re the ghost kid.”

Danny flinched. “I prefer ghost young adult, thank you.”

“You’re the one Nick Fury won’t shut up about.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “He talks about me?”

“Nonstop. Every meeting. ‘The ghost kid leveled a tank with his pinky finger!’ ‘The ghost kid opened a portal to another dimension with a yawn!’” Steve did a passable impression of Fury’s gruff voice. “‘You think your team’s strong? Try containing a seventeen-year-old who talks to the dead like it’s a podcast!’”

Danny laughed, a bit unhinged, definitely sleep-deprived. “I did do the tank thing. That was an accident.”

“Fury thinks you’re the future.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Danny looked at him warily. “Are you gonna try to recruit me?”

Steve considered. “Honestly? Not until you’ve slept. You look like you’d punch Thor if he asked you for coffee.”

“I have, and I did, and he was proud of me.”

“…Of course he was.”

There was a moment of silence, just the city humming beneath them, both of them sitting cross-legged like two war veterans who somehow found themselves on a rooftop in Manhattan instead of the battlefield they were clearly built for.

“So,” Steve said eventually. “You gonna tell me why you’re camped out here?”

Danny pointed to the tracker. “Someone in that building”—he gestured vaguely toward Stark Tower—“is leaking interdimensional ghost radiation like it’s designer cologne. I was trying to be subtle.”

Steve looked at the tower. “That’s Tony.”

Danny blinked. “Tony Stark is radiating ectoplasmic energy?”

“Yeah. He bought a ghost portal off eBay last month. Said it’d be good for ‘multiverse surveillance.’ It… got loose.”

Danny stood up so fast he swayed. “I knew it! I told Jazz that someone was messing with rogue ghost portals again and she said I was paranoid! I am paranoid! But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong!”

“You’re… very high-strung.”

Danny glared. “Do you have a collection of alternate-universe versions of yourself constantly trying to kill you?”

Steve held up his hands. “Fair.”

Suddenly, Danny wobbled. His legs buckled, and Steve caught him with a grunt. “Woah, hey, hey! Okay, that’s enough hero time for now.”

“I’m fine,” Danny slurred. “I’ve just been awake for three days. It’s not a problem unless I—”

He passed out.

Steve stared down at the kid—a half-dead, glowing teen who apparently punched like a demigod and talked like a sitcom character on speed—and muttered, “…Tony owes me so much alcohol for this.”

He slung Danny over his shoulder and started walking toward the Tower.

A few floors down, Tony Stark looked up from his holograms and blinked as the elevator pinged open.

Steve walked in carrying what looked like a sleep-dead raccoon in human form.

Tony blinked. “Did you adopt a raccoon?”

“He punched me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “…You?”

“Knocked me back five feet.”

Tony whistled. “Damn. Strong raccoon.”

“He’s nineteen. Name’s Danny Fenton. Ghost kid.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. The one Fury thinks is a nuclear bomb with social anxiety.”

Steve dumped Danny on the nearest couch. “Let him sleep. He earned it.”

Tony looked down at Danny. “Should I be worried he’s glowing?”

“No. But maybe hide the ghost portal.”

Tony scoffed. “I knew someone was tracking it.”

Danny stirred, groaning, “Stark, I swear to the Ancients, if I wake up and your toaster is haunted again, I’m putting salt in your arc reactor…”

Steve stared. “Wait, what?”

Tony sighed. “Long story. Ghosts don’t like me. Something about my attitude.”

Steve sat down, already dreading explaining this to Fury.

Across the room, Danny turned on his side, mumbled, “Tell the Captain I didn’t mean to punch him…”

Steve looked over, surprisingly fond. “It’s fine, kid. I’ve had worse.”

Danny let out a soft snore.

Tony grinned. “You’re getting soft.”

“He reminds me of Bucky.”

Tony choked. “Excuse me?”

Steve shrugged. “If Bucky died and came back with ghost powers, he’d absolutely punch me in the face for fun.”

“…Okay, yeah, that tracks.”

And thus began the weird, wonderful, mildly catastrophic journey of Danny Fenton, ghost boy, menace to the Avengers, and accidental best friend to Captain America, who still rubbed his jaw now and then, remembering the punch that nearly knocked out a super-soldier’s tooth.

[kaurwreck]

I think you're right that it's significant, and I think Mori is clever to recognize that Akutagawa is a rook.

Like a rook, Akutagawa is powerful, but generally contained and often undercut by his predictability. However, because he's keenly aware of his own constraints, and because others often aren't (especially regarding variables they've internalized as known), he's able to play into and against his own predictability to paradoxically surprise them.

He moves within the confines of his rigidity to shape outcomes, sometimes more effectively than his more dynamic opponents and peers. Rooks do that too, if you let them.

Me, knowing nothing about chess, probably overthinking the significance of referencing akutagawa in this scene, but is going to look it up later anyways

[winkofcharm]

Spinning, Spinning, Spun - Chapter 1

Please help me, this is far longer than I expected it to be lmao.

Batfam x Reader {platonic} [Previous] [next]

Barbara Gordon is simultaneously the first to notice, and the sort-of last to know. 

It begins as most nights do for her, preparing for her shift as Oracle, waiting for you to send over the photos of the day. Scanning through the reports, planning out the routes each Bat would take, keeping an eye on any sort of forum, social media, police report, etc - that might drop a hint for what criminal activities may be planned for the night. It was a familiar pattern, one she had held to for years, even before she joined The Family. 

She’d known for as long as she could remember that she wanted to be in law enforcement, and since she was strictly forbidden from joining the GCPD by her Dad, what better way than this?

 First as Batgirl, fighting along Batman and Robin - being brought into the fold, into the family. She even remembers the first time she was brought into the batcave, and became aware of the men behind the masks; The Bruce Wayne, The Dick Grayson. She was going to work with the legends she modelled herself after. The ones who inspired her to take up a mask, to hit the streets of Gotham, and fulfil her dream. But it wasn’t just the two of them, was it? There was their butler, Alfred Pennyworth, former military, hyper-competent, and a master of what he did. And then…there was you. 

Barely a toddler, not able to comprehend what was going on, even if you wanted to. You were a cute kid, for sure, but she didn’t really know much about kids, and wasn’t interested in learning either. She had more important things to do, and yeah, she felt kind of bad brushing you off whenever she stopped in during the day, but that’s what Bruce told her to do - and at the end of the day, he was your dad, and had the final say. If she ever was curious about who exactly was watching over this child while She, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred were all preoccupied, then it was only a fleeting thought before refocusing on the job at hand. 

She watched you grow in glimpses and glances. Sighing a breath of relief when Bruce told her you were in on the secret, and letting another when he mentioned you wouldn’t be involved. By the time you were told, she was already Oracle, and balancing another vigilante would be stretching herself a little too thin. You learning the secret, also led to her seeing you less and less. And if she were completely honest with herself, it was a solace, a weight off her shoulders - one less person she needed to lie to. 

It became so much easier once you started leaving The Manor, she didn’t need to worry about running into you, and the awkward greetings that would follow. Barbara could get right to work, without needing to censor any discussions or plans. Anytime you were home, you seemed to get the hint quickly and make yourself scarce. The contact was minimal, until Bruce came to her with a request.

You were getting popular on social media, and with that popularity came risk. Risk of people getting too curious, of not just your safety, but the others safety being compromised as well. So a plan was put into motion. 

Every day, at 5pm Gotham time, you would send over any pre-planned posts and pictures, and Barbara would scrub them clean of meta-data. She would cross-reference any details regarding the rest of the family, making sure the timelines of events stayed consistent (though, she admits, you were pretty good at that already - and getting better at covering your own digital tracks. It seemed almost redundant to have her backtrack over everything, but who was Batman without redundancies?). Then, once satisfied, she’d send them back, and you would post at predetermined times. 

For the last five or six years, this system worked. You were always punctual, provided the few times you were late due to scheduling conflicts with the regular time, but even then, you always let her know ahead of time. Until this time, that is. 

5 pm, 18:00, 5 in the evening - came and went, and not a text, or dm, or email in sight. Maybe you were busy, maybe you were sleeping? You were in Hong Kong, possibly on your way elsewhere at the moment, and time zones could be tricky at best - but you never missed the 5pm cutoff. 

And honestly, she may have been the first to discover your disappearance, if she hadn’t been immediately distracted by a new thread on the Gotham subreddit. An unconfirmed source, one she needed to follow up on asap, claiming a grumbling in the underground - a rumour, unsubstantiated, but all rumours regarding any of the rogues needed to be followed up on. 

Thus, your lack of contact went unappreciated, and unheeded. 

The second to notice, and the first to inquire, was one Stephanie Brown. 

Steph - as she insisted to be called - was probably just as active in the realm of social media as you were, even if she wasn’t quite as popular. She never really got the invites to collaborate and create as much branded content as you did, but she didn’t really want that. She was okay with being “Gotham famous”, where people who were chronically online may recognize her out and about, but she wasn’t being hounded. Not like you were, and that was perfectly fine. 

She didn’t want to be as famous as you, hell, from the few times you actually made conversation, you didn’t want to be as famous as you are. The first time Wayne Enterprises pushed for a collab between you and her, you had been so... so…something. 

You had been sat beside her in a boardroom, the company PR team presenting why it would be so great for You, at the time the only known biological Wayne heir, and Steph, at the time girlfriend to their youngest ever CEO, to run a series of posts together online to promote brand engagement and blah-blah-blaaaaaaaaaah. Meanwhile, Bruce and Tim sat opposite her and you, nodding and agreeing with whatever business talk came out of the team's mouth. 

She also remembers nodding along, even if she didn’t understand what they were saying. It wasn’t like either of you were going to turn down the proposal, especially since it was coming directly from Bruce. She “uhuhed” and “okay’d” at all the right times, and you…you just sat there. 

You never even really looked at her, and Steph recalls how angry that made her. How you glanced over her once before looking away (before looking down) and never really looked back at her (never looked back up). She thought you to be stuck up and rude, some bratty kid living rich off their daddy’s money. It wasn’t until later, when you actually were working together for a supposedly “candid” photo opportunity, that she realized you were just quiet and a little awkward. 

In person, you were a complete 180 from how you presented yourself online. Online, you were confident, bold, clever and witty. In person, you shrunk into yourself. Shoulders hunched, eyes looking anywhere but forward - until the camera started rolling and then, then you transformed. Shoulders back, eyes forward, smirk playing on your lips. You went from random nobody, to someone who couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than the child of Bruce Wayne.

 It made her curious, and for Stephanie Brown, curiosity was dangerous. 

She started by asking Tim about you, but he couldn’t give any more information than she already had, and even then, some of it seemed to just be about the online you - not the real one. When pushed, he got frustrated, and ended up starting a small argument. 

“Does it matter? All you have to do with them is pose for some pictures - it’s not like they do anything else.” 

And didn’t that set Stephanie off. You were a person, more than an online presence - so she and Tim didn’t speak for a week, until you had left town again, and the reason behind the argument semi-forgotten. 

Then she made the mistake of asking Bruce - and fuck, wasn’t that one of the most terrifying conversations (could it even be called that?) of her life. She tried to play off her questioning as small talk - 

“Man, they’re completely different in person y’know. I expected them to be just a rich kid, but -” 

Bruce cut her off. He hadn’t even been looking at her at first, but the moment he realized she was talking about You, his head had whipped around at her. His eyes hardened, his face twisted into one she’d only seen before aimed at lowlife thugs. Stephanie could feel the fear creeping in, her palms starting to sweat. She had made eye contact for just a moment, before casting her eyes elsewhere. Why had he reacted like this? She just wanted to know more about his kid. She didn’t think that was wrong - how could it be? 

“All you were to do was a job. They’re to be left alone outside of that.” She tried to defend herself, mostly out of surprise, but Bruce wasn’t having it. Anything she spoke was met with a cold and stern:

“Drop it.”

So she did. For a bit. The next time you were in town, and you were asked to work together again, she tried to bring it up again - and Bruce got even angrier. She ended up benched, and if she had to choose between you and Spoiler? 

Well, she didn’t know you that well. And Spoiler, Spoiler was always going to be more important.

Even after she and Tim broke up, you played the part of her digital bestie - and she would catch glimpses of the real you, the you no one else had seen, whenever she could. At one point she realized she knew more about you then the ones purported to be your siblings, and it sent her into a spiral. At best, you were coworkers, and she knew more than the people who were supposed to know everything.  

It helped that you posted several times a day, everyday. And sure, a lot of it was the fake influencer bullshit, but sometimes you’d sneak in the truth. Those were the posts she went out of her way to like and repost. She learned your favourite colour and favourite hot beverage in the same post, and made sure the next time you went out together for content, that it was prepared correctly, in a mug of your favourite colour. 

The small smile that lit up your face was perhaps the first real smile she had seen you make. And if it made her heart flutter, well, she kept that secret close. 

So it became a habit of hers. To scroll through your posts everyday, except today - 

You hadn’t posted anything. Not a thing. Nothing on twitter, on instagram, on snapchat, on tiktok - nothing. She refreshed each one multiple times, just in case, and kept switching between platforms, just in case.  

It set her on edge. Made her stand a little straighter - and then - the panic set in as she recalled - 

You queued everything.

You queued your posts for up to a week out at a time - meaning while there was nothing made public today, you hadn’t posted anything for the last week. 

So Stephanie did the only thing she could think to do, and went to the only person who might know more and be willing to share.

Alfred.

Thus Alfred became the third to notice, and the first to know. 

He remembers when you came to the manor. How little you were, the power of your lungs as you cried out into the world. A cry that would, if he were honest, barely ever be answered. 

Barely two weeks old, and already being forced to learn how cold the world is - he tried to apologize for it, but how could he? Nothing could replace what had been lost, nothing could replace what would never be given. 

Your mother had died in childbirth, or shortly after. The timeline wasn’t quite clear, but she had enough time to list one Bruce Wayne as the father on your birth certificate. Something neither he or Bruce had expected - let alone the call that came from the hospital, requesting someone come pick you up, lest CPS get involved. Bruce eventually relented under that threat, wanting to avoid any sort of government digging, but only if a DNA test proved you to be his child.

The Hospital agreed, and two days later, the results came back positive. You were his, and he was all you had. They refused to allow Alfred to collect you, no matter how hard Bruce pushed - he had to be the one to pick you up. So Bruce brought Alfred with him, and the moment he laid his eyes on you, he was yours. You were, in Alfred’s opinion, the most valuable thing in the world. 

Bruce, his ward, his son in every way but blood, to Alfred’s disappointment, did not agree. There was no time for an infant, not in his crusade. Despite trying his best to care for you and Bruce at the same time, Batman’s schedule made it impossible. 

An infant needed around the clock care, and if he was in the Batcave watching over Bruce and Dick (who hadn’t even been told about you - didn’t even know you were there in the manor, having been put in the nursery wing at the far end, where your cries were only to be heard by a nanny no one had bothered to hire), then there was no way for him to watch over you -  there was more than one morning you woke covered in your own mess. 

Alfred at least got Bruce to agree to hire a Nanny after the second week. He refused to have the Nanny in the main house, however. And how was that supposed to work anyway? Another person, poking around Wayne Manor with all its secrets? Bruce would never stand it. 

The solution broke Alfred’s heart, even if he agreed it was for the best. 

A country house, unused since the days of Thomas and Martha Wayne, and a Nanny, paid an ungodly sum and handpicked by Alfred himself for her silence and skill. Off you went, nearly two hours away, out of the grasp of Gotham and its shadows. The Nanny they had hired was instructed to send reports every week - written and verbal. The written reports went to Bruce’s desk, with any requests for new furniture, clothing, toys and other expenses were signed off on and sent back. The verbal reports? Those were Alfreds. 

He was kept up to date with every milestone, from learning to turn yourself over, to your first words and steps. The Nanny mentioned more than once she was worried about how quiet you were, how hesitant to ask for anything, from physical needs to emotional ones - and it hurt him to hear. You were a Wayne, the world would be at your fingertips, nothing should be out of reach - except, perhaps, your own family's affection. 

He assured the poor woman that the quiet was normal, that Bruce himself had been a quiet baby before exploding into a vibrant child (until reverting back after the alley). He did insist, as you grew older, that you would be brought into the phone calls. How delightful it was to hear you, even if it was just a few scattered words. 

Years passed like this, until suddenly you were at the cusp of puberty. And Bruce had no choice but to bring you back into the main house. The Nanny who had raised you, who you clung to for all your needs, was ready to retire. Alfred was the one to convince him to let you back, Dick was leaving, and he couldn’t imagine the Manor without some sort of childish light. Perhaps you could even get to know your father, grow close to him, and never be sent away again. 

How futile a wish. 

You never stood a chance. 

Alfred went himself, to collect you. Your sparse belongings had been sent ahead, having arrived in the Manor two days before you had - and had been placed once again in the nursery (though the crib had been removed, and replaced with a large four poster bed - curtains in your current favourite colour, and ready to be replaced when you changed it). 

You were polite and proper in your greetings, exactly as you were raised and taught to be. A firm handshake, your tiny hand in his - something you should have learned from your father, but was taught by a stranger. You remained silent the entire way home, looking out the window as the countryside changed. And Alfred couldn’t help but look back in the mirrors, and try his hardest to memorize everything about you. 

He should have known better. He spoke to you, as you approached the grounds, how your father was waiting to meet you (and held back on speaking about Dick, if only to ease the blow on how your father would rather raise a child that wasn’t you). He had thought Bruce would do the right thing and be waiting to greet you, as he had been raised to do whenever family arrived, so when he finally pulled up to the front doors and Bruce wasn’t there, he felt ashamed. He apologized for your fathers faux pas, and you just brushed it off - claiming you understood how busy he was. 

He would later find Bruce in the Batcave, with Jason Todd in tow. He would scold Bruce privately later, for doing all the things he had expected him to do with you, with Jason instead. A tour of the manor, showing you your room, introducing you to the history of your great family - all things Alfred had done instead. 

It was Alfred who helped you adjust, who prepared you for your new role as a Wayne heir. It was Alfred who introduced you to Jason, upon escorting you to the library and catching him there as well. And it was Alfred who went and yelled at Bruce for allowing you to assume you were like the others, an orphan taken in by a wealthy patron. 

It was an innocent question on Jason’s behalf, one he apologized for immediately after - 

“Did Bruce take you in too?”

And you turned to Alfred, unsure how to answer - he could see the words of affirmation forming in your mouth, the questioning furrow of your brow, before he cut you off - 

“Young Master is Master Bruce’s child by birth, sir.”

“Oh! Sorry! I’m really sorry, he just didn’t mention anything and I just assumed, and I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”  The embarrassed blush that bled onto Jason’s cheeks was probably the only thing that saved him from a scolding for asking such a question, along with your own response:

“It’s okay, you didn’t know - “ and thus your introduction was awkward and stilted, but at least you might finally have someone else by your side. 

He should have known better. 

He told Bruce of your meeting Jason, of the conversation you’d had, and how for a moment (perhaps much longer) you had thought yourself another ward, hadn’t been assured that the Wayne family was, in fact, your family. And While Bruce never addressed your feeling of lack of belonging - he did stress that you and Jason were to be kept separate, as much as could possibly be done. 

 Alfred verbally agreed, and mentally decided to make sure you and Jason spent as much time together as possible without Bruce noticing. Which proceeded to blow up in his face when Jason, in the midst of a visit from Dick, inadvertently blew the whole secret sky high. 

You never told him of what happened that night. Never looked at him again with trust in your eyes. Never reached out to Jason, or Dick, or even Tim when he arrived. You locked yourself further away, kept to your room outside of meals and school. And Alfred, if he ever heard you crying to yourself, pulled back; never acknowledged the damage done. How could he? In supporting the others, he had failed you. 

You lived as a ghost, and when you started leaving the manor more and more, he hoped you would move on. That you would grow into a person all your own, without the shadow of your family. But you never completely broke away - how could you? When they started finally pulling you in, in a grotesque semblance of a relationship that was never really real. It made him sick to his stomach, seeing you on the cover of Teen Vogue , purporting an interview about how great your siblings were. Siblings you hadn’t spoken to in months, hadn’t seen in even longer. 

Then Stephanie Brown took an interest, and Alfred, remembering how badly things had gone before when Jason had taken an interest, kept it to himself. Passed on what he could recall of your likes and dislikes, of your habits and rituals. So it wasn’t necessarily surprising when she called to ask about you. He paid no mind to Stephanie pushing for him to call you, gave the excuse of wondering when you’d next be in town, and that she’d tried to text you but had gotten no response. So he did. No answer, straight to voicemail - your phone was apparently turned off. 

“Please leave a message after the beep - “ 

Generic, he was hoping you had changed it by now, but clearly, he’d have to remind you again. But before the beep could go off, his blood chilled. 

A laugh. 

Not a laugh, a cackle. 

Familiar, and cruel - on your voicemail message, on your private phone, and one all too recognizable. 

The Joker

--------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @holybatflapexpert @electricgg @xoyumiqls @holderoflostmemories @sleeptimes @galaxypurplerose @sassam

(apologies if the tag didn't work, i'm new to this ;3; )

[mecachrome]

📊 LANDOSCAR AO3 STATS (may 2025)

notes

sorry this literally took 2 weeks to write... unfortunately the data was retrieved april 28 and it is now may 12.

other work: i previously wrote a stats overview that covered landoscar's fic growth and breakout in 2023 :) i've kept some of the formatting and graphs that i showed there, while other things have been removed or refined because i felt they'd become redundant or unnecessary (aka they were basically just a reflection of fandom growth in general, and not unique or interesting to landoscar as a ship specifically).

methodology: i simply scraped the metadata for every fic in the landoscar tag (until april 28, 2025) and then imported it into google sheets to clean, with most visualizations done in tableau. again, all temporal data is by date updated (not posted) unless noted otherwise. this is because the date that appears on the parent view of the ao3 archives is the updated one, so it's the only feasible datapoint to collect for 3000+ fics.

content: this post does not mention any individual authors or concern itself with kudos, hits, comments, etc. i purely describe archive growth and overall analysis of metadata like word count and tagging metrics.

cleaning: after importing my data, i standardized ship spelling, removed extra "814" or "landoscar" tags, and merged all versions of one-sided, background, implied, past, mentioned etc. into a single "(side)" modifier. i also removed one fic entirely from the dataset because the "loscar" tag was being mistakenly wrangled as landoscar, but otherwise was not actually tagged as landoscar. i also removed extra commentary tags in the ships sets that did not pertain to any ships.

overall stats

before we get into any detailed distributions, let's first look at an overview of the archive as of 2025! in their 2-and-change years as teammates, landoscar have had over 3,409 fics written for them, good enough for 3rd overall in the f1 archives (behind lestappen and maxiel).

most landoscar fics are completed one-shots (although note that a one-shot could easily be 80k words—in fact they have about 30 single-chapter fics that are at least 50k words long), and they also benefit from a lot of first-tagged fic, which is to say 82.3% of landoscar-tagged fics have them as the first ship, implying that they aren't often used as a fleeting side pairing and artificially skewing perception of their popularity. in fact, over half of landoscar fics are PURELY tagged as landoscar (aka otp: true), with no other side pairings tagged at all.

this percentage has actually gone down a bit since 2023 (65.5%), which makes sense since more lando and oscar ships have become established and grown in popularity over the years, but it's also not a very big difference yet...

ship growth

of course, landoscar have grown at a frankly terrifying rate since 2023. remember this annotated graph i posted comparing their growth during the 2023 season to that of carlando and loscar, respectively their other biggest ship at the time? THIS IS HER NOW:

yes... that tiny squished down little rectangle... (wipes away stray tear) they grow up so fast. i also tried to annotate this graph to show other "big" landoscar moments in the timeline since, but i honestly struggled with this because they've just grown SO exponentially and consistently that i don't even feel like i can point to anything as a proper catalyst of production anymore. that is to say, i think landoscar are popular enough now that they have a large amount of dedicated fans/writers who will continuously work on certain drafts and stories regardless of what happens irl, so it's hard to point at certain events as inspiring a meaningful amount of work.

note also that this is all going by date updated, so it's not a true reflection of ~growth~ as a ficdom. thankfully ao3 does have a date_created filter that you can manually enter into the search, but because of this limitation i can't create graphs with the granularity and complexity that scraping an entire archive allows me. nevertheless, i picked a few big ships that landoscar have overtaken over the last 2 years and created this graph using actual date created metrics!!!

this is pretty self-explanatory of course but i think it's fun to look at... :) it's especially satisfying to see how many ships they casually crossed over before the end of 2024.

distributions

some quick graphs this time. rating distribution remains extremely similar to the 2023 graph, with explicit fic coming out on top at 28%:

last time i noted a skew in ratings between the overall f1 rpf tag and the landoscar tag (i.e. landoscar had a higher prevalence of e fic), but looking at it a second time i honestly believe this is more of a cultural shift in (f1? sports rpf? who knows) fandom at large and not specific to landoscar as a ship — filtering the f1 rpf tag to works updated from 2023 onward shows that explicit has since become the most popular rating in general, even when excluding landoscar-tagged fics. is it because fandom is getting more horny in general, or because the etiquette surrounding what constitutes t / m / e has changed, or because people are less afraid to post e fic publicly and no longer quarantine it to locked livejournal posts? or something else altogether? Well i don't know and this is a landoscar stats post so it doesn't matter but that could be something for another thought experiment. regardless because of that i feel like further graphs aren't really necessary 🤷‍♀️

onto word distribution:

still similar to last time, although i will note that there's a higher representation of longfic now!!! it might not seem like much, but i noted last year that 85% of landoscar fics were under 10k & 97% under 25k — these numbers are now 78% and 92% respectively, which adds up in the grand scheme of a much larger archive. you'll also notice that the prevalence of <1k fic has gone down as well.

for the fun of it here's the wc distribution but with a further rating breakdown; as previously discussed you're more likely to get G ratings in flashfic because there's less wordspace to Make The Porn Happen. of course there are nuances to this but that's just a broad overview

side ships

what other ships are landoscar shippers shipping these days??? a lot of these ships are familiar from last time, but there are two new entries in ham/ros and pia/sai overtaking nor/ric and gas/lec to enter the top 10. ships that include at least one of lando or oscar are highlighted in orange:

of course, i pulled other 814-adjacent ships, but unfortunately i've realized that a lot of them simply aren't that popular/prevalent (context: within the 814 tag specifically) so they didn't make the top 10... because of that, here's a graph with only ships that include lando or oscar and have a minimum of 10 works within the landoscar tag:

eta: other primarily includes oscar & lily and maxf & lando. lando doesn't really have that many popular pairings within landoscar shippers otherwise...

i had wanted to explore these ships further and look at their growth/do some more in depth breakdowns of their popularity, but atm they're simply not popular enough for me to really do anything here. maybe next year?!

that being said, i did make a table comparing the prevalence of side ships within the 814 tag to the global f1 archives, so as to contextualize the popularity of each ship (see 2023). as usually, maxiel is very underrepresented in the landoscar tag, with galex actually receiving quite a boost compared to before!

additional tags

so last time i only had about 400 fics to work with and i did some analysis on additional tags / essentially au tagging. however, the problem is that there are now 3000 fics in my set, and the limitations of web scraping means that i'm not privy to the tag wrangling that happens in Da Backend of ao3. basically i'm being given all the raw versions of these au tags, whereas on ao3 "a/b/o" and "alpha/beta/omega dynamics" and "au - alpha/beta/omega" and "alternate universe - a/b/o" are all being wrangled together. because it would take way too long for me to do all of this manually and i frankly just don't want to clean that many fics after already going through all the ship tags, i've decided to not do any au analysis because i don't think it would be an accurate reflection of the data...

that being said, i had one new little experiment! as landoscar get more and more competitive, i wanted to chart how ~angsty~ they've gotten as a ship on ao3. i wanted to make a cumulative graph that shows how the overall fluff % - angst % difference has shifted over time, but ummmm... tableau and i had a disagreement. so instead here is a graph of the MoM change in angst % (so basically what percentage of the fics updated in that month specifically were tagged angst?):

the overall number is still not very drastic at all and fluff still prevails over angst in the landoscar archive. to be clear, there are 33.2% fics tagged some variation of fluff and 21.4% fics tagged some variation of angst overall, so there's a fluff surplus of 11.8%. but there has definitely been a slight growth in angst metrics over the past few months!

—

i will leave this here for now... if there's anything specific that you're interested in lmk and i can whip it up!!! hehe ty for reading 🧡

[autismswagsummit]

Round 3 is here!

We're back from the Wheel again (though it's really a redundant statement at this point), and the bracket has been updated accordingly. We won't be splintering the rounds this time, all polls will be coming out on the same day from now on. We'll start again on October the 7th, same time as usual.

ROUND 3

Donatello Hamato (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) v.s Snufkin (Moominvalley)

Princess Bubblegum (Adventure Time) v.s Zane Julien (Lego Ninjago)

Ferb Fletcher (Phineas & Ferb) v.s Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Data Soong (Star Trek) v.s Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney)

Laios Touden (Dungeon Meshi) v.s Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Luz Noceda (The Owl House) v.s Lilo Pelekai (Lilo & Stitch)

Entrapta (She Ra and the Princesses of Power) v.s Marina Ida (Splatoon)

Abed Nadir (Community) v.s Spongebob Squarepants (Spongebob Squarepants)

[charseraph]

who are the main characters of Bad Ending? i think that setting is sooo cool and sooo horrifying so i'd love to know more about it. peak sci-fi in my heart

Here are the most developed of Bad Ending’s individuals. There is no story nor a single timeframe, since Bad Ending takes place between the modern day and the death of all life.

Earthlings

Bitedown agents Intel & Close-quarters combat (Molar)

Intel is prenatally nooengineered to rapidly and eagerly absorb information from senses of customizable priority. Typically this is vision, but he can be attuned to scent, sound, touch, and specific ranges of each. This was managed via a nootically mapped and tactically modified form of autism.

Molar is also prenatally nooengineered to scope rooms out for weapons and maneuverability. She does this passively and without stress, but can be activated into a hyperaggressive state where she uses any means to kill designated targets. Her molars have been replaced and her reinforced adductors can break bone. She is unemotive and docile, requiring very little mental stimulation.

Sunflower Complex is the piloting system for a brown windowless reconnaissance jet.

Floret 1 & 2 are two surgically linked meshes that are clones of the same donor. Floret 1 is the conscious pilot of the Complex’s aircraft. Floret 2 is subconscious and serves as redundant support for the Complex’ reflexes and vital organs.

Floret 3 is a small mustard seedlet that pilots the jet if the organic florets are incapacitated or ejected.

MOUS

A surgically modified surveillance agent with built-in sonar, LiDAR, and FLIR capabilities. He is capable of standing very still for extended periods of time thanks to locking artificial muscles. His mechanical insides are cooled by two intakes either side of his neck, filtering into his lungs.

GOSSIP RING

A surveillance satellite housing a dozen nootically linked meshes. They analyze data amongst themselves.

GOD’S FAVORITE

A large wormlike mobile particle accelerator and cenote sensor. Cenotes are holes in time’s past strata.

Balanceaban, “BAAL”

Mexico’s adept war coordinator seedlet. He spearheads resource distribution, medicine, and weapon lethality, sharing his research freely with the world that he brought to its knees.

Cygnet

The US’ war seedlet in response to BAAL. It is daunted by its assigned task of recovering the military footing of a collapsing nation that sits beside the world’s deadliest superpower.

Throneroomers

<Harvest feeds many> “Harvest”

Model-turned-editor for a magazine of fashion and physicality for the Ministry of Arts, a pangovernmental collective promoting every corner of the Thronal supercontintent’s artistic expression.

<Five summers> “Five”

A fashion and physicality model, and Harvest’s closest friend.

<Little bell>

Harvest’s only birthed child, now a software engineer for the Pursuit of Sleep superproject, a global pooling of intellectual and material resource to eliminate the distant threat.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Self-Editing

Take a Break Before Editing

One of the most effective self-editing techniques is to distance yourself from your writing before diving into the editing process. After completing your draft, give yourself some time away from the text – a few hours, a day, or even longer if possible. This break provides a fresh perspective, allowing you to approach your work with a more critical eye.

Read Aloud

Engage your auditory senses by reading your work aloud. This not only helps identify grammatical errors and awkward phrasing but also allows you to assess the overall flow and rhythm of your writing. Awkward sentences are more apparent when heard.

Focus on One Element at a Time

To avoid feeling overwhelmed during the self-editing process, concentrate on specific elements in each round. Start by checking for grammatical errors and punctuation, then move on to sentence structure, coherence, and finally, style. This systematic approach ensures a thorough examination of your writing.

Add Dimensions

After you are finished with your first draft, flip to the beginning and start anew. As you write and edit more of your story, you may add different aspects to a character that might need to be mentioned in a section you already edited. You might add a part of the plot that should be alluded to earlier in your book.

Fill in the Gaps

Re-reading your first draft might reveal plot holes that will be addressed via revisions. It may expose logical inconsistencies that must be buttressed with enhanced detail. If you, as the author, know a lot of details about a character’s backstory, make sure your reader does as well.

Mend Character Arcs

Audiences want engaging plots, but they also want detailed characters who undergo change during the events of a story. Use a second draft to make sure that your main character and key supporting characters follow consistent character arcs that take them on a journey over the course of the story. If your story is told through first person point of view (POV), this will be even more important as it will also affect the story’s narration.

Track the Pacing of your Story

Find ways to space out your story points so that every section of your novel is equally compelling and nothing feels shoehorned in.

Clean up Cosmetic Errors

When some first time writers think of the editing process, they mainly think of corrections to grammar, spelling, syntax, and punctuation. These elements are certainly important but such edits tend to come toward the end of the process. Obviously no book will go out for hard copy publication without proofreading for typos and grammatical errors, but in the early rounds of revising, direct most of your energy toward story and character. If you consider yourself a good writer who simply isn’t strong on elements like spelling, grammar, and punctuation, consider hiring an outside proofreader to help you with this part of the writing process.

Inject Variety

The best novels and short stories contain ample variety, no matter how long or short the entire manuscript may be. Look for ways to inject variety into your sentence structure, your narrative events, your dialogue, and your descriptive language. You never want a reader to feel like s/he’s already read a carbon copy of a certain scene from a few chapters back.

Check for Consistency

Consistency is key to maintaining a professional and polished tone in your writing. Ensure that your language, formatting, and style choices remain consistent throughout your piece. Inconsistencies can distract the reader and diminish the overall impact of your work.

Eliminate Redundancies

Effective communication is concise and to the point. During the self-editing phase, be vigilant in identifying and eliminating redundancies. Repetitive phrases and unnecessary words can dilute your message and hinder clarity.

Verify Facts and Information

If your writing incorporates facts, figures, or data, double-check the accuracy of your information. Providing accurate and up-to-date information enhances your credibility as a writer. Cross-referencing your sources during the self-editing process ensures the reliability of your content.

Consider Your Audience

Keep your target audience in mind during the self-editing process. Ensure that your language, tone, and examples are tailored to resonate with your intended readership. This step is crucial for creating a connection with your audience and enhancing the overall impact of your writing.

Utilise Editing Tools

Take advantage of the various editing tools available to writers. Spell and grammar checkers, and style guides can serve as valuable companions during the self-editing journey. However, remember that these tools are aids, not substitutes, for your critical evaluation.

Seek Feedback

Engage with others to gain fresh perspectives on your writing. Peer reviews or feedback from mentors can offer valuable insights that you might have overlooked. Embrace constructive criticism and use it to refine your work further.

Be Ruthless with Revisions

Effective self-editing requires a degree of ruthlessness. Don’t be afraid to cut or rewrite sections that do not contribute to the overall strength of your piece. Trim excess words, tighten sentences, and ensure that every element serves a purpose.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ On Editing