#i feel like with some more experience i could do great as a story editor

[avibero]

How do I become a beta reader.

[roach-works]

what if i specifically throw out bullshit numbers just so i can piss off those specific types of people "Yeah guns were invented in this setting 2 million years ago" "How much gas is used in the laser? 1." "how old is this city? 3"

im not your boss or your editor, and if you disagree with any writing advice you see on the internet you can reblog it and say so.

however, you're just asking for more advice, i will tell you that writing things specifically to piss off your audience is an unfortunately common motivator and lots of guys do it. it makes you feel very clever and in control and it also makes your writing suck shit. at best you end up like the jackoffs who spent a million seasons of supernatural trying to get rid of women, and at worst you end up with no audience at all because few people enjoy a story that holds them in contempt.

mean writing is poor, reactionary, impulsive, constrained, unimaginative. writing to enrage and exclude people means you're spending your time fighting your assumed enemies, which uses up a lot of parts of your brain you could be putting to better use.

i joked 'don't let them do math at you!' but i feel as though this is an easy low-conflict way to avoid friction and to help readers continue to suspend their disbelief. it doesn't THWART your enemies who seek to overthrow you, it just keeps your readers moving with the narrative instead of hung up on some accidental and irrelevant discrepancy.

a lot of people feel powerful when they impose their will on other people. story tellers have, by some metrics, a very great deal of power. but when you get insecure in that power and see your story as a thing you're forcing other people to submit to and agree with, you can end up with the sense that your audience is an opposing force, so you get caught up in the need to assert and maintain your power. i personally think this is a lousy attitude that leads to badly constructed stories.

i prefer to see storytelling as a collaborative experience, and i give advice with the assumption that story tellers want to get along with their audiences. your mileage may vary.

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Read Part 1 Here

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Miguel helps reader through a panic attack (descriptions based on my own experiences but not necessarily perfectly written down), mentions of isolation and isolation-related trauma, references to child loss, scars

Summary: Living in Nueva York and working with the Spider Society is pretty great... except for Miguel O’Hara, the man who injured you, saved your life, and now refuses to speak to you. Luckily, Peter B. Parker loves interfering in Miguel’s life, so when you’re at your lowest, it’s Miguel who is there to help you through it. ~ 2,200 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: This is still dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok as well as the people leaving the comments. There are light spoilers for AtSV (I made up an ending for BtSV since this is set after that).

--

Two Months Later…

Miguel O’Hara kept his promise. His Spider Society ran all kinds of tests, searching for an explanation for the rapid evolution that provided your the ability to travel the multiverse. Best they could guess, you had been close to the epicenter of your world’s implosion, close enough to absorb some of the energy leaking from what was essentially a black hole devouring the universe.

Another Spider-Woman had given you a more advanced goober - no, gizmo - to keep you from glitching and destabilizing the place they called Nueva York. It was Miguel’s home, she’d explained, and the home base of the Spider Society that kept watch over the multiverse. You’d started volunteering for missions with them, happy to be doing some good. It made you feel like a hero again, like there was a point to all the sacrifices that led you here.

But you hadn't seen Spider-Man 2099 since he dropped you off at a Nueva York hospital and huffed an order to “make sure she gets stitched up, and for god’s sake, get her some food.” That was two months ago.

--

“I can’t believe you bring a kid here.” You waved to Mayday who was sitting on her dad’s lap and trying to steal his food with her webs. For some reason, Peter had given her a web-shooter… as if toddlers weren’t difficult enough.

“Neither can I, honestly. But she loves these guys. Especially Miguel.” He frowned and took a bite of empanada. “She’s borderline obsessed with Miguel actually. I think it’s because he has such climbable shoulders. It’s good for him to see her too.”

“Meaning?”

“Ah nothing.” Peter waved off your question.

An awkward pause filled the space between you and Peter B. Parker. Just ask him, you told yourself.

“Is Miguel avoiding me?” Blunt. Right to the point.

“Ummmmm…” He drug out the word for far too long, looked to his daughter for help, seemed to remember she couldn’t do more than babble random sounds, and then sighed heavily. “Yes. He feels bad about…” Peter gestured broadly to you. “About a year ago we had a little situation with this kid - I mentored him. Good kid. Smart,” Peter added proudly. “This kid, Miles, made Miguel rethink a lot of things. We started handling anomalies... differently, a bit more gently.”

“He calls this gently?” You touched your scarred shoulder.

“Ummmmm… no.” Peter scooped Mayday out of the air where she was now dangling from the ceiling. “You freaked him out pretty bad. I mean you are a huge anomaly. Dangerous. He sort of, uh, how would those kids say it? Oh, yeah, he ‘went off the deep end.’ You should hear him tell the story.”

Mayday babbled incoherently.

“Yes ma’am, it does all seem a bit romantic when he tells it doesn’t it?” Peter cooed to Mayday then grinned at you.

You blinked once. Twice. Romantic?

Mayday went zipping away. Peter stood and sighed.

“Gotta get this kid, but I’m sending him to see you.” He took off after his daughter who was expertly navigating a minefield of other Spider-People (and animals). “Promise!” Peter tossed over his shoulder.

You seriously doubted Peter B. Parker would be able to convince Miguel to talk to you. And that was just as well because by the time you made it back to your room, it was turning into one of your bad nights. It was illogical. How could you could be fine for and suddenly a panic-stricken nightmare-ridden mess one random night? But then, the human mind is an enigma even to itself, the traumatized mind even more so.

It happened when you walked into your room and found yourself suspended in complete darkness. You followed the same routine every night, but today was different. Blackness surrounded you and closed in. You could see nothing, not even the hand in front of your face, and something tightened in your chest, clamped down on your lungs. For a second, you had control of the thing, were reaching for the light switch. Then you were spiraling.

Your mind was no longer in your safe room in Nueva York surrounded by the Spider Society who had taken you in and protected you and even become your friends. No. It was trapped in the silent and endless darkness of a collapsed universe, utterly alone, smothered in deafening silence. Your breath came in rapid, shallow pants, and you stumbled back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You sat down on the soft mattress, drew up your knees, wrapped your arms around yourself, bowed your head, and tried to breath through it.

Caught in your panic attack, you didn’t even hear two familiar voices arguing, or see the light from the hallway fall across the room as the door was pushed open, or notice the shadows that loomed in the doorway.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter,” Miguel snarled.

“I’m not doing- why’s the door open?”

Miguel noticed you first. The dim room was the perfect environment for his sensitive eyes to make out your hunched form and trembling shoulders. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you, an act that confirmed every one of Peter B. Parker’s suspicions. He watched for a moment from the doorway before taking a step back and closing the door with a click. Miguel had this under control. He was sure of it.

--

A deep voice, gravelly as if it were being drug over stones whispered your name. It wrapped around you, held you tight, and pulled you above the thrashing waves. That crushing feeling in your chest relaxed ever so slightly, and finally, you managed a deep breath. Then a second. It’s okay now. The worst is over.

After the third breath, you looked up and searched the dark room in a search of the voice’s owner.

Two dimly glowing red orbs shone in the darkness. You knew exactly one person with red eyes. Slowly, your own eyes adjusted, and the broad outline of Miguel O’Hara materialized. He wasn’t wearing his usual vibrant suit, just a dark colored sweater. Even kneeling on the ground he was still tall enough to be eye level with you. The two of you stared at each other for a long second before Miguel slowly raised a hand and... and brushed his thumb across your cheek?

What was happening? All you could do was blink stupidly at him, but when you didn't shy away he brought his other hand to your face. He smoothed his thumbs over your cheeks. He was wiping away your tears so gently and with such concern it seemed impossible. His hands were soft, softer than they had any right to be, and those dangerous claws that had done so much damage to you earlier were nowhere to be seen.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me.” Miguel’s voice was so commanding; he was obviously accustomed to giving order, but that actually made it more reassuring. “I’m here.”

I’m here. For some unexplainable reason those words reassured you more than anything. You didn't even think, just did. You slid forward on the bed and buried your face in the broad muscles of Miguel’s shoulder. His sweater was as soft as anything you could have imagined, and his warmth seeped through the fabric. He smelled like fresh laundry and something more woody and musky.

Miguel haltingly wrapped his arms around you, awkward at first, before he pulled you in closer. He held you like that for several long minutes, running his hands across your back and drawing small circles with fingers until your breathing synced with his. 

Since coming to this place, the most physical contact you had with anyone was the occasional hug or handshake or Mayday crawling up your arm. Before that it was Miguel holding you in the rain while he sucked his venom - you had confirmed that it was venom - from your body. Before that you had been trapped in a collapsed universe or on the run. Before that... well, being Spider-Woman was a lonely job.

To be held like this was the most comforting experience you had in longer than you cared to remember. You didn’t want to let go. Even when you realized that in this position Miguel was kneeling between your legs you didn’t let go.

Eventually, he shifted with a quiet huff. You pulled back immediately. What were you doing? Miguel definitely didn’t want you all over him. What could you have possibly been thinking, using the man who actively avoided you for comfort?

Miguel stood and stretched. You looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

“Thank you. I’m okay now,” you muttered.

That was an obvious lie. The man tilted his head as he gazed down at you. He knew what this loneliness was like, how it felt to have wallowed in solitude for so long that you forget how to feel anything but alone. His eyes shifted to your shoulder where a tank top did nothing to hide the four long scars he had left in your skin. You tracked his gaze and immediately tried to cover them with your hand.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hinting that he could go even though part of you - an insane, irrational, needy part of you - wanted him to stay.

Miguel ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair with a sigh before sitting down, uninvited, on your bed. Next to you. He sat down next to you. On your bed.

Miguel O’Hara was handsome. You never denied that, especially now while he was inches from you smelling the way he smelled and radiating much needed warmth. The temptation to lean into him was strong, but not strong enough to override your embarrassment that he, of all the Spider-People, had seen you at your lowest point.

“I thought you were jumping through the Arach- the Spider-Verse with bad intentions. I had no idea you were running… from me.” The explanation came out of nowhere. Miguel turned to look down at you. “You had the potential to cause a lot of damage, and I panicked. I forgot you’re one of us, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Another long pause. “My claws have never poisoned anyone before.”

The apology was genuine, you could hear it in his voice. Some invisible barrier between the two of you shattered then.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to kill me with your venomous talons, you only meant to seriously maim me with your regular talons?” You could feel a smile growing as you tried joking with him.

Miguel looked back at the bed spread. Should you? Was this a good idea? You threw caution to the wind and leaned over to bump your shoulder against Miguel’s.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. Glad I was threatening enough to scare you like that.”

“That’s not what- okay.”

“You can look at them. If you want, I mean.” You nodded to your scarred shoulder.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare you off, Miguel smoothed a finger over the scars. They were deep and jagged, but had healed rather well all things considered. His hand on your neck startled you for a moment before you realized what he was doing. Four tiny scars from his fangs still decorated your skin, and he was tracing his thumb over each one.

Miguel felt you swallow, realized what he was doing, and then froze. A single second stretched into an eternity during which you could confront every thought racing through your head. He’d chased you for months, but he had a good reason. He’d hurt you. Then he saved your life. There was that thing Peter said about Mayday being good for him. And Miguel’s sad eyes and ever-present frown. And how warm he’d felt while he held you. And the ripples of muscle across his entire body.

He’d kept his promise not to send you back. And he was handsome. Handsome and sad. So instead of pulling away and kicking him out and going back to avoiding each other, you leaned into him.

There was nothing awkward about Miguel’s movements this time. He wrapped an arm around you and maneuver you both until you were laying down, curled up against his side, head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist.

“What is going on?” You whispered.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Miguel whispered back.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because... because I know how it feels to lose everyone and have no one to hold you.”

You looked up at him then. He was staring at the ceiling, some memory you couldn’t see dancing across his eyes. Peter said Mayday was good for Miguel then refused to answer any more questions. The frown lines. How ferociously he protected the multiverse. Mayday was good for Miguel. Mayday. The kid.

It hit you then, and it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Miguel had lost his family, probably in circumstances not too different from your own. You wanted to know everything about the Spider-Man with the fangs and venom and the saddest eyes you had ever seen. Not now though.

Already, you felt sleep tugging at the edge of your consciousness, a sense of safety and comfort brought on by Miguel’s presence.

“You could stay until I wake up,” you offered drowsily and splayed a hand across his chest. “If you want.”

Miguel ran his fingers lightly over the back of your hand.

“I think I might.”

--

A/N: There is a teeny tiny potential for an 18+ Part 3. No solid plan yet, but possible. Thanks for all the love on this fic!

My Masterlist

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If you want taken off, just let me know! I’m doing my best with this, but it is starting to get pretty extensive. I am very very sorry if I missed you; please just resubmit!

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act three, part three (2/2)

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act three, part three wc : ~1.3k

act three : the unexpected love  ➤  part 3 : editor-director supreme

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  act three, part three (1/2) next  ➤  act three, part four growing pains ➤  masterlist 

“are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” jun asks, his hand on the back of your chair. but you don’t look back at him, your focus on the screen in front of you as you review the pictures you just took of him. 

it’s a routine at this point. he’s taken his makeup off, he’s back in the clothes he wore earlier in the day. he tells you that he could give you a ride home, especially considering how late it was. the set’s being cleaned up, the staffs is putting away their things, yet you’re showing no sign of getting ready to leave.

“don’t worry, i won’t stay too long.”

“you said that last time.” jun replies. a sigh escapes his lips right after, knowing that there’s no convincing you. like someone else he knew, you were much too dedicated to your work. despite knowing that you don’t see him, he fights off the smile threatening to make its way on his lips. minghao never confirmed in his text that he would actually go, but he knew his friend.

he pats your shoulder a couple of times. “alright. let me know when you get home.”

“i will, thanks.” you finally look up at him with a smile. “great work today, jun. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“you too, yn. take it easy, okay?”

jun leaves and you place your attention back towards your laptop, taking note of the pictures you knew you would be making the cut. you don’t even attempt to fight off the frown on your face when you realize that most of them were made from the instructions that minghao had given. of course, you made your own calls and decisions for some of the photos as well, but it disheartened you a bit that they weren’t as good.

you’re not too sure how long it’s been since jun left. or how many goodbyes you’ve said to people, the lighting crew, the stylists, the production assistants. you’re sure that you’ve pretty much burned through the arrow keys of your laptop that the symbols have partially faded. your eyes feel heavier and your lean back in your seat, stretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn.

“you shouldn’t be here this late.”

you stop yourself mid-yawn. eyes wide as you turn to the source of the sound.

xu minghao stands there, just a few of feet away. his hands are stuffed inside the pockets of his pants, and there’s a look on his face that you can’t quite place. there’s a feeling building in the pit of your stomach, an emotion you can’t quite place either. perhaps contempt. maybe surprise.

still, you wonder why he’s here in the first place. especially after not showing up the past couple of days. 

“neither should you.” 

you don’t mean for your tone to be so sharp, but you turn away from him and back to the screen.

“that’s fair.” minghao chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor or lightheartedness. he walks towards you, dragging one of the nearby chairs with him. 

you raise a brow when he places the chair next to yours, not close enough for your arms to brush but not too far that you don’t register the scent of his cologne, and takes a seat. “what are you doing?”

“keeping you company.” he brings your laptop towards, so it’s right in between the two of you. minghao scrolls through the very top and begins looking through the photos.

you bite the inside of your cheek, and you can’t help but stare at him in complete astonishment. not even five minutes in and he’s already taken charge. it’s already off hours, and he wasn’t even there for the shoot. what gave him the nerve?

“look at the photos, not me.”

his voice is as monotone as it comes and you scoff, but still turn your gaze back towards the screen. “are you sure you’re just keeping me company?”

“hm.” minghao hums, not exactly answering your question and continuing to breeze through the photos. his lips are pressed into a thin line and his brows are furrowed. “these are good. great work, yn.”

you blink back your shock, trying your hardest not to turn to him once more. it almost feels strange to be complimented, mostly because he says it in such a matter-of-fact way that it doesn’t even feel like a compliment. “it’s thanks to your suggestions.”

minghao sees you in his peripheral, and he’s aware enough to pick out the slight disdain in your tone. he shakes his head, stopping at one of the pictures where he knows he didn’t have any sort of influence in — a picture that didn’t come from one of his suggestions.

“not all of them. look-” he turns the laptop slightly towards you, both of you leaning in closer. “-this is an interesting one. dynamic, good movement. exposure is a bit too much, but nothing that can’t be fixed in post.”

you nod, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. even when he’s giving out compliments, he still can’t help but critique something. it almost feels strange to have this sense of disdain towards someone, having never experienced the feeling before. nearly all of the projects you’ve worked on have been a collaborative effort, you’re not entirely used to someone exerting this amount of control on a shoot.

was it earned? of course. your coworkers spoke so highly of him that you couldn’t help but do a bit of research on your own. minghao was already building an impressive portfolio before you were even accepted into university. he was nothing short of a prodigy. 

a silence falls between the two of you, and minghao can’t help but take one more quick glance at you as you processed his words. he doesn’t fail to notice the subtle clench of your jaw, or the quiet yet sharp intake of breath. 

“did i-” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “-strike a nerve?”

you let the question hang in the air for a few more seconds. you bite your lip, then your tongue.

“no.”

the project wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t looking to create any bad blood. still, you could feel minghao’s gaze on you; intense, searching for any sign of dishonesty in your answer through your features. if he does find any, he chooses not to call you out on it.

the tension in the air is thick, palpable even as he continues to go through the photos, dictating the edits to be made and what could be improved. you nod along, opening the notes app in your phone to jot down everything he was saying. as much as you hated to admit it, his passion and expertise are as tangible as the tension. for a bit, the disdain you have was replaced with awe.  

you’re not sure many minutes have passed until a security guard came up to both of you, telling you it was time to lock up.

“do you need a ride back?” he asks as you both exit the building.   

“i’ll be taking the bus.” you nod towards the stop directly in front of the building. “thank you for the offer.”

“it’s late.”

“i’ll be fine.”

minghao sighs. there’s clearly no convincing you. 

“alright. i hope you get back safe.”

the unmistakable sincerity in both his words and his tone surprises you for a second. you’re not sure if this is the same person you had just been going through photos with.

“i hope you do too.”

you mean it, and he can tell despite the apparent nonchalance in your expression. 

without another word, you both go your separate ways.

from reese, with love <3

oh my ynhao... this is just the beginning you've still got quite the journey ahead hehe ++ some mh backstory crumbs,, we'll get more as the act progresses ;> hope you all enjoyed reading, i'd love to know what you think of our first written part of the act !! hope you're all doing well and taking care !

[northoftheroad]

I know I just gave you an ask and you must be super busy, but what do you think abt Dickory vs Dickbabs?? Personally, I think Dickory is way better but in Tom Taylor’s run and the current runs, Dickbabs is the main ship. Anyways, I just wanted your opinion on it :D

Also thoughts on Tom Taylor’s run? I thought about it and I kinda have mixed feelings. On one hand, it’s great for fanservice and has some super cute and funny moments. On the other hand, the characters and their relationships are kinda one dimensional. Thoughts?? Take your time and thanks if you answer! <3

Hi, As I've said before (and I'm going to quote myself from older posts here quite a lot, if you happen to come across them 😉 ), I'm fine with both pairings as long as it's well written. I guess a lot of fans lean towards preferring what they grew up with and such like. I'm old enough to have started reading Batman when the idea of another Robin than Dick Grayson was ludicrous, and read the NTT in my slightly older teens. So I definitely have a nostalgic feeling for Dick/Kory.

I think they worked well because they were so different; they each learned from the other and grew as people. Being with Kory helped Dick become more emotionally open after some ten years of growing up with Bruce and Alfred. In NTT # 26, he talks about how he is too introspective and that Batman taught him to be guided by his head, not his heart. And in turn, I'd say Kory learned not always to be ruled by her emotions, and Dick helped to ground her on Earth. They had their fair share of problems, one obstacle was their different approach to relationships and sex. While Starfire is fine with being married to another guy, for reasons of state, but live with Dick, it takes Dick quite some time to come to terms with that he loves Kory enough to get over that. Dick and Kory were one of the most stable and loving couples in DC for over ten years. Now, in superhero comics, writers and/or editoral make the rules. There were plans to let them get married, but as far as I remember a change of editorial led to that being scrapped. We got Dick being raped by Mirage instead, and eventually, the couple split up. Disregarding that, I think you could very well see them growing apart. They were young when they started dating. I guess they were a couple for two-three years? At that age, it's not unreasonable to think they developed in ways that made them decide to go their separate ways.

If Dick and Kory were good because they were poles apart, I'd say Dick and Barbara are more alike. They have both worked with Batman; they are originally street-level detectives and athletes; they are used to work in similar ways. I could see them as a slightly more mature couple than Dick and Kory, being more in sync and relaxed with each other because they have similar backgrounds and shared experiences. (Which, of course, could make them a more boring couple in fiction…) I'm not a fan of the retcon that they've been friends since school, but they did work occasionally together as youngsters, so it can still make sense to write them as really good friends, imo. I honestly think Dick and Kory have been written as a good couple more than Dick and Barbara. Maybe things had been different if Devin Grayson had got the chance to tie up her long arc with Dick in Nightwing vol 2. Not that I think her run was without its problems, but it would presumably have been better if she had got the opportunity to finish what she started. The ending (or rather the absence of a decent ending) of her run, and the fact that the first Nightwing stories after Infinite Crisis were downright cringeworthy, has soured my impression of her writing of Dick/Babs. So I guess editorial decisions have ruined both Dick's most important relationships…?

I don't know if you're new to the debate about Dick/Kory vs. Dick/Barbara? Because it's sometimes a heated discussion, with people claiming he doesn't deserve either of them, he mistreated one or the other etc.

(Here's what Barbara herself had to say about Dick, by the way. In Birds of Prey # 71. By Gail Simone, art Ron Adrian and Rob Lea.)

I can definitely work myself up too much about fictional characters myself, but there are a few things I try to keep in mind… Fictional characters have no agency. Creators and editoral use them to tell stories (and sell stuff…). Don't get angry at fictional characters or, even worse, real people who love them. Also, reading comics is a lot about filling in the blanks between panels, and different readers can put a book down with very different pictures of what has happened. You can absolutely find examples where Dick has been written as behaving badly against both of them. Sometimes, it's a reasonable part of the writer's long game, sometimes it actually is bad and out-of-character writing. (And if you look, you can find examples where the women have been written as behaving badly against Dick too.)

Honestly, the most important thing for me when it comes to Dick and relationships is that he takes them very seriously indeed. Dick has not had a lot of one-night stands and is on record as saying he's not comfortable with casual sex. When he had one with Helena/Huntress, he wanted to talk about starting a relationship just because of that. When he (fake) married a girl to try to expose her as a murderer, he still avoided to sleep with her, and then he offered to stay with her when the case was closed, because he felt bad for deceiving her. Outside the blasted annual, I don't know of any time he was written as (knowingly) having sex with someone while he's in a relationship with another. Girls tend to break up with him, not the other way around. I'm sure other people have different ideas, and it can vary between writers and eras, but I think you can read Dick as someone who likes to be in a relationship, to be intimate with someone – but who's not into casual sex.

When it comes to Tom Taylor's run, I pretty much agree with you. I don't hate it, as some people seem to do, but I think the art has been the best part. It's mostly been pretty meh, TT has at several times spoken about how Nightwing is an A-lister among DC superheroes, but I don't think he shows it. And here and there he produces some really nice panels/pages (sometimes it's up to debate whether the characters are out of character or not). We're heading towards the end of his and Bruno Redondon's run and they've hinted he's going to stop being Nightwing. As if we need a third period of Dick not being Nightwing in ten years… 🙄 The best writer of Nightwing vol 4 was Sam Humphries, in my opinion. Unfortunately, it was very short.

Ok, this post has definitely gone on long enough... but if you want to go deeper into the rabbit hole, here are some earlier posts.

[soulofapatrick]

Lie To Me - Gabriel Luna x Reader

Summary: Y/N does the vanity Fair lie detector test and it gets dragged out of her that she has a raging crush on her co-star Gabriel Luna 

Words: 1.5k

Warning: none

Notes: If you have any Gabriel stories you want me to write please ask, there's not much content on him online so he’s a lot harder to write for him but I'm not gonna stop as he needs the love ❤️

“Is your full name Y/N Y/M/N(s) Thornberry?”

“Yeah that’s correct, pronounced right as well. Props to you.” 

“Are you an actor?” 

“I’m definitely something. An aspiring actor feels more accurate, The Last of Us being my second big role really.” 

“Are you about to take a polygraph exam?” 

“Yup and I’m shitting myself about it! Can I swear? I can swear right?” 

“Why are you nervous?”

“Look at this? I’m hooked up to the machine and neither of you seem to like to smile. Like at all.” 

“We shall start with the category of your career.” 

“Alright, starting big.” 

“Some would say Supernatural was when you really became famous and a fan favourite, do you think you’re the best Winchester?” 

“Oh no, I’d say I’m the least favourite, joining in season-“ 

“She’s lying.” 

“Wait what? I am?” 

“Do you think you’re the best Winchester?”

“No, that would be Dean. I’d say I’m the second best, sorry Jared.” 

“That’s the truth.” 

“Was there a lot of pressure coming into the show so late?” 

“I wouldn’t say pressure as Jared and Jensen made me feel right at home almost immediately. It was scary seeing the fans of the show react to Eleanor being brought in so late and so suddenly but the initial response blew me away and I could ask to be part of a better fandom.” 

“There a lot of fan accounts for Supernatural, do you ever look at any of them?”

“Actually I do, my best friend Pedro and I like to send each other videos and memes we see made of each others characters or if we see any that are really amazing. There are some really good editors out there who really put Nell and Maria in such a beautiful and badass light.”

“Do you have a favourite account?” 

“Yeah actually… Ummm, Pedro and I send a lot to each other from an account called Lunaberry4life with the for being the number 4.” 

“So you play Eleanor Winchester in Supernatural, did you ask to wear flannel?” 

“Did I ask to wear flannels? I love the Winchester flannels and some of them may actually be in my wardrobe at home. The costume crew do such an amazing job with making me feel comfortable in everything I wear as well as capturing the badass nature of Nell.” 

“So you would say you’re a fan of flannels?” 

“For the show and what they represent with the fandom yes but as an everyday item I’m not sure. I’m more of a fan of sweatpants or jeans and a casual tee shirt or sweater.” 

“You were a barista before you became an actress correct?” 

“Yeah, I adore coffee. Can’t live without it really and so I became a barista before I got dragged into the acting world by probably one of my best friends, the lovely Barbara Palvin or as I get to call her: Barbie.” 

“Who would you rather invite to your birthday party? Barbara Palvin or Pedro Pascal?” 

“I wouldn’t have one if I couldn’t invite them both. In their own ways they’ve become very special to me and I couldn’t do it. I don’t have the heart to go without one of them. I’m a little selfish like that, why have one if you can have both?”

“Would you invite me?” 

“Yeah…?”

“She’s lying” 

“So you just finished filming The Last of Us, correct?”

“Yeah, it was a really great experience, being able to meet and act alongside such great actors like Pedro and Bella. Bella is a force to be reckoned with as she has this fire I wish I had when I was her age and I can really see her taking over the world.”

“Who did you enjoy working with the most from the cast?”

“Probably Pedro as he’s just so sweet and sincere. I never expected a man as famous as him to be so humble, he was always able to make us laugh, especially when filming those really intense scenes. That man has a habit of randomly emoting!”

“That’s a lie. Pedro being her favourite, not about Pedro.” 

“Are you lying?”

“No…?” 

“Yes.”

“Who did you enjoy working with the most from the cast?”

“Well I did enjoy spending time with Gabriel Luna, he’s just an all around person and I loved playing his wife. He’s get such an addictive personality and would always manage to help me calm down whenever I got too anxious and I will say those curls are so fucking cute.” 

“When Pedro was in your position he was asked if he thought himself a heartthrob. Do you think Pedro Pascal is a heartthrob?” 

“Yeah, he’s definitely a heartthrob. I mean the world has already declared Pedro as the hottest man and he’s just such a Daddy, ya know?” 

“What about Gabriel Luna?”

“Oh! Umm, well… have you seen him? He’s definitely hot and very underrated. He’s got a very charming southern accent and I don’t know if you’ve noticed the freckles across his gorgeous skin and his eyes seem to be the brightest shade of brown I have ever seen, much like cognac. He might be like eighteen years older than me but he needs more recognition for what he does- oh I’m rambling…” 

“You seem to have thought about this a lot.” 

“I-I wouldn’t say that…”

“She’s lying.” 

“N-no!” 

“Moving on…”  

*

I’m dragging myself from my bed at the knock on my door, having just ended a FaceTime with Pedro who of course had a good tease about my vanity fair lie detector interview. It got released last night and already the fan accounts are blowing up my phone with edits and ships of me and different actors. Pedro called me as soon as he woke up, being a few hours behind me at the moment and first checked on how I was doing before he let himself tease me a little. I hung up on him to call back a second later, him waiting for the call back and a grin on that stupidly cute face as he chuckled. 

The knock at the door gets more persistent as I pad through my apartment, wondering who the fuck it could be. Barbie has keys so it won’t be her as she’d just let herself in with a call of my name to let me know it was her and Pedro is still doing his Mandalorian press tour so it’s definitely not him. 

Flinging the door open I’m greeted by dark curls and warm cognac eyes. Gabriel’s standing in front of me, out of breath and an overnight bag hanging from his shoulder. He’s watching me, eyes scanning my face as I just stare in shock. Gabriel Luna is standing outside my door. He’s at my apartment. How the fuck did he get my address? Oh wait, I know, Pedro probably. That motherfucker. 

“Is it true?” Gabriel’s southern accent rolls off his tongue like warm honey as he steps forwards, into my apartment and I take an instinctive step back, “Y/N, is it true?” 

“I-is what true?” My voice catches in my throat when my back hits my kitchen island, the door being kicked closed before Gabriel’s dropping his bag and stalking towards me, my mouth drying up at his every step. He places his hands either side of my hips, against the edge of the counter as his dark eyes scorch my skin, face dipping down close to mine. 

“Don’t play dumb with me sweet girl.” He coos, voice deep as he dares a glance at my lips and back up. 

“Please.” I whimper, the sound dying on my lips when his crash against mine. It’s sweet and tantalisingly slow as we both relish in the feeling of wanting each other. His hands move from the counter to my hip and my cheek and I’m gripping his shirt to pull him flush against me. I think I might be dreaming still but when his blunt nails dig into my hip I know this is real; he’s here and he’s actually kissing me. He’s intoxicating, the mixture of coffee and cedar wood addictive and I never want to stop but my lungs are burning and we’re pulling apart with a gasp, “Fuck me.” 

“Let me at least take you on a date first.” He mumbles, lips curving into a smile against my neck, stealing a gasped laugh from me as I do the one thing I have always wanted to do: tangle my hands in those perfect curls and tug, testing the waters. The dirtiest moan I have ever heard falls from those cupid bow lips and his cognac eyes darken even more, his voice husky as he growls out, “You keep doing that and I’ll have to skip taking you out on a date and asking you to be my girlfriend.” 

I tug on his soft hair again, groaning out a quiet, “Ask me.” 

“Will you go out with me?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

TAGS: Tag List Form

@iraot @gemimawrites @pedropascalsrealhusband @twopercentmilk @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend @sonhee-a​ @dizzyforyou-blog​ @grooveandshit​ @reyas-world @canpillowscry​ @jell0buss-37​ @androgynousgaz​ @not-a-unique-snowflake89​ @kalllistos​ @mediocrewallflow3r​ @certifiedhunter​ @alexis-doggy-76 @thesapphirequeen​

#Gabriel luna#Gabriel luna x reader#Gabriel luna x oc#Gabriel luna fluff#Gabriel luna x you#Gabriel luna smut#Gabriel luna fanfiction#Gabriel luna fanfics#Tommy miller#the last of us#the last of us 2#the last of us x reader#the last of us smut#the last of us fluff#tlou#tlou2#tlou x reader#tlou fluff#tlou x you#tlou x oc

[lemonhemlock]

finally sitting down to write my barbieheimer review and coming out as an oppenheimer hater so DO NOT PROCEED if you are annoyed by criticism of it or do not want to hear it or whatever. seriously. if you liked the movie, good for you. i did not. this is going to be a long rant. i am so not joking right now.

disclaimer that i went to the cinema with the very best of intentions, wanting and fully expecting to like oppenheimer. while that didn't happen, i loved the double feature experience and do not regret it. i spent the entire day at the mall with my boyfriend and we just had a fun, carefree day. i've wanted to see both and had planned to for a long time and it was great. v interesting as a cultural zeitgeist moment.

that being said, the reason oppenheimer leaves me cold is because it is a fundamentally incoherent movie that doesn't know what it's about, tries to do everything all at once and succeeds in nothing. each hour of running time could have easily been a separate movie: one about oppenheimer's life leading to los alamos, another one about the actual creation of the atomic bomb and another one with the robert downey jr plot.

there are huge disadvantages to trying to cram so many different story beats into one singular movie and, if you ask me, i wouldn't advise anyone to do it. but nolan strikes me as the kind of overrated ~artiste that rarely hears no for an answer. this movie was in DIRE need of a streamlining. you can hire the greatest editor in history, but if you give him that script, they're not going to be able to salvage it.

i thought the editing was consistently bad throughout the movie, but especially atrocious in the first part about oppenheimer's early life. the result of this lack of plot focus is that the movie basically consists in a string of tiny scenes that last for seconds sometimes, all meshed together like a freaking montage. now, to each their own, but i cannot emphasize how much i hate this storytelling choice. no, but i genuinely despise it. whenever i see it, in movies or television, it just drives me up the wall. you can say it's a specific pet peeve of mine or whatever, maybe it doesn't bother others as much, but i honestly do not respect it. i think it's categorically lazy, something we've seen in a hundred different movies already and the most simplistic way of doing an exposition dump. i abhor the feeling of watching a mashup passing itself off as some kind of creative experiment in storytelling.

now, had this overused, lackadaisical introduction lasted a reasonable amount of time (maybe 20 min?), perhaps my stance would not have been so riled up. but it went on for AGES. i think the whole exposition part lasted for about an hour and coupled with the hurried procession of unconnected scenes and the asinine marvel movie semi-upbeat background music, the result was just cringe. and i specifically choose this term because this movie is touted as being a milestone moment in cinema or whatever. genuinely insane to me.

cillian murphy meets florence pugh for the first time and within seconds she starts berating him for not joining the communist party. who speaks like that? no natural progression to the conversation at all, we have to get from point A to point B and that's surely more important. you blink again and they're having sex. she stops mid-act because she has the sudden, irrepressible urge to check out his library (??). she makes him recite his famous aphorism from sanskrit while shoving the Bhagavad Gita in his face. the man is craning his neck in the most uncomfortable sex position ever. there is nothing natural about this, just stilted dialogue and an edgy highschooler's interpretation of a cool flirtation. i struggle to even call it that because they don't even get to flirt. too many conversations in this film sound genuinely inorganic.

everything is so rushed. a three-hour long movie should NOT feel rushed. but this is the natural consequence of trying to cram so many things into it: the scenes are too short and, because of that, lack build-up and, because of that, the atmosphere suffers greatly, the actors don't have time to act, the relationships between them feel forced and the overall movie feels like it intentionally won't allow you to linger or catch your breath because then you'll figure out it has nothing to say. there is hardly any physics in it. there is hardly any social or philosophical commentary. the last third of the movie turns into this random whodunit / who-framed-oppenheimer type of scooby doo plot. that scene with rdj unraveling his evil plot to that young man feels lifted out of an agatha christie novel. why would rdj even care about what that green boy thinks of him? well, it's because that lad is the audience stand-in, of course. another stereotypical storytelling trick we've seen a million times before that nolan resorts to in his quest to create a "masterpiece".

there are some VERY talented people in this cast. a genuine tour-de-force when it comes to acting skills, even in cameo roles. yet no chance of showing any of that. they're just reciting lines because there is no time for anything else. there is no time to let their talent and performance shine. yes, not even cillian murphy, the titular character. i know that man can act because i've seen him for over a decade in various productions. not in oppenheimer though. there's no time. it feels like they're trying to read out to me the entire encyclopaedia britannica in 10 minutes.

i struggle to identify the theme or point of the movie. i heard nolan say it's about the consequences of one's actions. bitch, where? i'm not joking right now, there's like maybe 5 minutes of exploring that in a 3h-movie. i need everyone to stop being so unserious for real. i admit that i haven't been actively searching, but i haven't encountered any criticism either. is everyone just pretending to like this movie because they're afraid of being labelled a philistine? is this an emperor's new clothes type of situation? this whole previous discourse about how people will get bored or need to pay attention to what's happening on screen... there is nothing difficult or philosophical about oppenheimer. it's a very straightforward movie.

to me, it feels like nolan took a very interesting topic in and of itself, namely the creation of the atomic bomb, and did nothing interesting with it. he's just serving me facts about oppenheimer* with little to no commentary attached and a tiny amount of artistic interpretation. i say that because it has, like, that one scene when oppenheimer is imagining the flesh melting off of his audience while giving a war propaganda speech, meant to symbolize his conflicting views. the stream-of-consciousness element could have been an interesting lens through which to tell this story, but it was way under-utilized. this project could have slapped actually had it been filmed exclusively through oppenheimer's POV like an A24 horror movie.

*i say facts but in reality i need to actually fact-check to weed out the fictional elements bc i know next to nothing about this man, other than him spearheading the manhattan project

anyway, it's true that i am being harsh with this movie also because of the (undeserved) hype surrounding it and the inevitable ovations attached to any nolan production. but, imo, it is disappointing for a filmmaker of his calibre, with his experience and resources and the goodwill surrounding him to put out such fundamentally lazy nonsense

onto barbie now. first of all, yes, they're like apples and oranges, but one point of comparison is that this is a a very self-aware movie that never loses sight of what it's about and doesn't meander or diverge pointlessly from its main themes and message. after dismantling oppenheimer, i can't claim that barbie is going to revolutionize cinema or destroy the patriarchy or strengthen womanly bonds worldwide, but it's very on point. it's visually stunning, has a lot of easter eggs and cute details, catchy tunes and just general preciousness. everyone playing a doll was actively adorable. the re-watch quality feels promising, it has a very good chance of becoming a cult classic. it was heartwarming and endearing without being too overly sugary & funny without insulting jokes.

the choice to depict men as reductive and an afterthought as counter-point to how women are often portrayed on screen as accessories was indeed interesting. so was the idea of boys and girls diverging once they "discover" patriarchy. now, don't get me wrong, barbie is not a complicated movie either. its feminism is pretty simplistic, no doubt about it, but it doesn't take itself too seriously either. i do wish that america ferrera's mid-movie speech about women's position in society was a little more refined because those ideas were indeed very basic and kind of eye-roll worthy, like a feminism 101 class. i could have done without helen mirren's voice over (it didn't really add a lot, imo, although the joke about margot robbie was funny). the intro spoofing 2001 space odyssey was a little too on-the-nose as well, so i can't say it's not without a couple of hiccups and cringe moments.

nonetheless, barbie is, by no means, a short movie either. clocking in at 114 min, the pendulum swings towards the "long" side of running times. but, as opposed to oppenheimer, it feels neither rushed, nor drawn out. the pacing is just right. the actors in barbie have the space to shine, even those in small roles. the plot has room to breathe. relationships have room to grow. disregarding the subject matter (in an attempt at objectivity, as one might prefer one topic over the other), strictly from the perspective of storytelling techniques, editing, cinematography & character development, barbie is plainly the superior movie.

[qqueenofhades]

Hiii! I hope this is not too random but you always have such good advices and it's always interesting to hear your opinion about different things.

So, I have this idea for a serialized web-novel that I really want to stick with, write it and actually publish it. But I'm afraid that I'm not good at writing and I'm not sure how to improve. As an academic/teacher who writes fiction, is there anything in particular you would recommend? Like the list of books?

Also, everyone says you can be good at only one thing so you should invest your time in mastering that one thing, otherwise you are going to always be mediocre, Jack of all trades. I have BA in Philosophy, work as a video editor and dream of writing that particular story. Am I too over the place? I thought that I could connect writing to philosophy as there are a few philosophers who write fiction, and connect it to video editing bearing in mind that video editing is also a form of storytelling and can be connected to scripting, in a way.

Ideally, I'd want my story to be in a comics formats, but then I'd also have to learn drawing, which I would absolutely love to do, but then will I be turning into mr. Jack even more? Lol.

First off, my chillun, I am here to safely inform you that the idea of "jack of all trades, master of none," thus implying that it's stupid to do a lot of things when you could devote your time to Doing This One Thing Only, is a pile of crap. What is life even FOR, if not to try new things, experiment, see what you like, make mistakes, and learn how to do it better? Especially when it comes to art??? It is the primal and timeless impulse of human beings in all ages of the world to make art, the end. Someone who has written a "bad" story or drawn a "bad" picture is still 100x more of an artist than some yokel who feeds stolen art into an AI algorithm and presses a button. They have made something original and creative and maybe it's not as good as those who have been doing it more or for longer, but WHO CARES? You can try again! You can laugh it off or pretend it never existed or whatever, but honestly, you should NOT be ashamed.

This whole "do only one thing and don't waste your time with unproductive side hobbies" idea is also an extremely capitalist conceit: you should spend your time being Financially Productive At Your One Skill, and not doing things that bring you joy solely because they bring you joy (even if not money). It presupposes that the only purpose of life is to be generating Profit at all times, which you can't do if you're not "good," etc etc nonsense. (Clearly, I have strong feelings about this.) So if you want to learn how to write and draw in order to make a web comic, you should do that! It doesn't matter if this is totally unrelated to anything you've done before. You don't need to justify it to anyone. You can just go "you know what, I want to do this" and do it!

That said, if you want to produce it to a publishable level in a reasonable timeframe, in this case it might be good to partner up with a person and/or persons who have more experience than you. You can be the storyboarder/show-runner/ultimate mastermind, but you can also reach out to writers and artists who have already practiced to the level needed, so you don't have to spend years becoming good enough (whatever your definition of that might be) to produce a quality product. You have experience with video editing and production; great! You can find someone else whose skills enhance and collaborate with yours, and who can do something that maybe you can't. But if you practice in the meantime, you'll understand more about how it works, what you want to do, and how to translate that into narrative/art form.

As ever, my only advice for people who want to learn how to write better is a) write, and b) read. Find writers whose style you enjoy, whose particular technical skills you want to emulate (is it character development? World-building? Plot twists? Smooth prose? All of the above?) and see how they do it. Sure, there are plenty of writing books out there who purport to tell you How To Do It The Right Way, but honestly, I don't think I've ever read them. I started writing around the age of 7 and worked at it ever since (along with a lot of reading, so yes). Some people might benefit from a more structured/guided approach, so if you think that sounds like something you want to see, even if it's just someone putting words down on a page about the basic technical craft of writing, then I do encourage you to check it out. But if at any time you go "eh, this doesn't feel like my style" or "I don't want to do it that way" or "this isn't quite what I'm looking for," you can shut that book and try something else. This, too, is entirely fine.

I realize that for many of us, writing is the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, and it's hard to share it if you feel like it's less than perfect, but at some point, you will also need to start doing that. The nice thing about fandom is that we are all amateurs (i.e. not being paid for it, not necessarily "bad," since I have seen plenty of professionally published books that make me go YIKES), and there's generally a forgiving and supportive atmosphere. If you want to write about two blorbos kissing or not kissing (as the case may be) or whatever else, chances are there is someone out there who wants to read that story, and they will enthusiastically respond to you about it. Strangers who offer unsolicited criticism on fanfic are obviously dicks, but there are also beta readers, people who read your writing to support you and also suggest what can be made better or more polished or otherwise better. So if you think that's a feedback structure you might benefit from, put your toes out and see what kind of response you get.

Anyway, this is all to say: write, draw, make art, do it badly, do it again, you'll get better, and don't feel like you have to excuse it or explain why. In the case of this particular project, if you have a strong artistic vision but not the technical skills to execute it to the level you want, consider reaching out to people who DO have those skills and might be interested in collaborating with you. Write a lot. Read a lot. Find what works for you. And have fun.

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn! When it comes to book deals, how much should you have ready for subsequent books? If an editor wants to offer on the book you subbed, do you need to already have a proposal ready for a second book to get a 2-book deal? (Especially if book 2 is unrelated/not a series). Barring any changes after singing--do imprints offer 2-book deals without having any clue what book 2 might be? Or, if I'm going on sub, do I need ideas lined up? Thanks!

It's not a bad idea to have an idea or two lined up. I wouldn't say you need a PROPOSAL per se, more like a pitch or brief synopsis.

-- IF the book on sub has series or companion book potential (ie, there are still story elements to follow, or maybe there is some really compelling side character you want to have their own book), then having a pitch ready for the possible next book is a great idea.

-- IF the book on sub is a total stand-alone, then having a pitch ready for another book in the same vein (ie, another YA contemp romance, for example) is a fine idea. The publisher might well offer a two-book deal to "build" you with that audience.

-- IF the book on sub is one thing, and your next idea is something totally different, like not for the same audience at all, I wouldn't bother, let it be its own deal, possibly to a different publisher.

IMO, it's fine when you and the editor are both on the same page about what Book 2 will be, AND there's some kind of *reason* for it, like it will be more in the world you already started, or you'll be building the same sort of audience.

But sometimes, a publisher will just randomly offer a two-book deal without asking for other ideas, and without any clue what book 2 might be. I personally would advise avoiding such a deal unless you have worked with this publisher before and feel VERY confident about your editorial relationship and your ability to come up with lots of great ideas, because lemme tell you from experience, it ROYALLY SUCKS to be in a place where you have an open contract and they don't like any of your future ideas!

Basically, there are pros and cons to a two-book deal. The good: You get more money up front (because you get BOTH on-signing parts of the advance when the contract is signed). You already know your next book is sold, one less thing to worry about. If the first book kind of underperforms, hey, you have a second chance in the bag already.

The bad: if you and the editor don't agree or you don't like how the first book went but you feel trapped because you still have a dangling open contract, OR, if it turns out that you actually feel hindered by having a deadline for something that doesn't exist at all yet (which unfortunately is not uncommon AND not something you can really know is a problem until it is happening to you!), OR, the first book does insanely well and you realize that you could have gotten more $$ for the next book.

[last-domain]

I finished Jeff Vandermeer's Ambergris in the last few days. They were good, Shriek: An Afterword might be my favourite, but it's hard to compare it to City of Saints and Madmen. Mostly because CoSaM is more of an anthology, with some truly exception pieces and some made made weaker by proximity to them.

(I will add a cut here. I have written more than I expected, with more information than you might want before reading. Proceed with caution.)

Frankly, while I still loved Finch, I found its ending weak. Perhaps I will come around in later re-readings, but I can't help but feel it lacked the necessary full catharsis for the tension built up before it. Additionally, while necessary due to its premise and format, its prose and handling of the core concepts of the series felt clumsier.

It gave too much, too freely, and the presentation of this was more plain. It reduced the dread and tension to the familiar (but not mundane) and explicable (as much as is possible for such topics).

Regretably continuing to heap up negativity: There were three primary threads that failed for me. Threads that perhaps would remedy the above if they had reached me.

The thread of the protagonist's father,

The protagonist's previous identity, and

The (only sometimes) subtle villain. (Spoilers abound!)

1.

I did not connect to the emotions tied to the father past a point. I felt it held a personal significance for Vandermeer, but I do not share his history and could not find it sufficiently affecting. Not for a lack of sympathy, but empathy – it felt too close to something powerful for Vandermeer alone. (I will point out some parallels in my personal experience that could theoretically, in the most calculating and impersonal way possible, lend me the experiences needed to translate the themes; if only to better demonstrate how they failed, or how I failed them.

(My father is dying from stage four blood cancer. He has been made a pariah. He has betrayed, and been betrayed. There is love, tinted with confusion, for I can not, and may never, truly know him. I don't understand who he is or why he did what he did. He is a known quantity only in hindsight, a stranger in the present. We share a deep connection through our names, in our sympathy for each other, in the frank and bleak acceptance of the hand we have been dealt. That we are weak, limited and short-sighted men doing what we can in a vicious world.)

There is a connection, but I do not feel enough of it, and I suspect it is crucial to this story. The great reveal is buried amidst more of the same: relentless exposition and an ever-urgent escalation. It lacks the necessary 'pull back' that gives impact to such a moment -- The opportunity to take to the stage alone and reach past words.

2.

The same can be said for the protagonist's past life and identity. It lacks room to breathe, boxed in claustrophobic company with players and events too large to permit its scale.

Too much is divulged too regularly for the tightening of emotional chords, and thus resonance. We know more than is needed each time the topic becomes relevant, until what could have been crescendo arrives flat.

Just a known and expected fact among many.

Once he was James, now he is John. Once he was a bastard, now he is a different bastard. The difference between a womaniser who loves whiskey and cigars and a cynical unwilling detective who loves whiskey and cigars is not enough to merit the weight implied when this information is presented.

We know, unfortunately.

3.

Finally (and this is far more than I anticipated to write on just this one novel) is the villain.

They feel like someone has stitched them into the story after enthusiastic and misguided recommendations from the publisher (I cannot say editor, because the glamorous Ann Vandermeer is Jeff's wife and editor, and has never disappointed.).

Like using a ball of twine and a knitting needle to sew back together a rich but torn silk tapestry. It is functional in the literal sense, necessary in the mechanical, but still confusing and upsetting to see.

Risking outright spoiling everything: I felt a rush of baffled familiarity towards the end of the book.

Suddenly, I was reading the most inventive and creatively liberal written adaptation of a video game ever envisioned.

Specifically: Half-Life 2.

Now, while Shriek: An Afterword and Finch were both published after the games release, City of Saints and Madmen preceeded Half-Life 2 by over three years, if you wholly discount the time spent writing the books. More still, the whole series is too significant and developed to be informed and transformed that quickly. These are the sort of stories that take a half-decade or more to plan and build up.

I admit, I haven't read or listened to Vandermeer talk about his work, much. Just the excerpts at the ends of his novels and a few short posts, about his disappointment in Alex Garland's adaptation of Annihilation and re-wilding lawns. So perhaps he has spoken on this. I am afraid to learn if he has.

To explain more; it is not just in specifics of content that I drew connections, but in tone. Towards the end, it truly does begin to feel like the plot of a game. It becomes too abrupt, too direct and too normalised as the verisimilitude of the world shifts from horror and a languorous living city resplendent in cruelty, beauty and pleasure -- to a shallow pool of one-note characters, alien invasions and resistance to an all too comprehensible (if mindlessly evil) occupying force.

The villain itself is, well... absurdly tied in? As if they are sewn across the book to rejoin wandering scenes; to shuffle and shuttle the actors to their places in the next scene (once, very literally), and then, with a metaphorical but embarrassingly exaggerated wink to the audience, reminds us the story takes place in a world of mysteries before (again, literally!) vanishing. To which our man clumsily muses to himself (and thus us) "It sure is a scary and mysterious world we live in. Welp. Not my problem anymore."

Okay... so. This came out far more passionate a diatribe than I expected. I had wanted to quickly note the negatives before moving on to the positives, as to not leave anyone reading on a sour note. I love these books. Have loved City of Saints of Madmen for years, and I don't truly regret reading the sequels.

There is a genre in fiction that I would describe as 'The City'. I am tempted to attach 'monster', '(anti-)hero', 'protagonist', 'beast', 'ancient' or 'eternal'. But we all know these tales; in Gaiman's Neverwhere, Dishonored's Dunwall, Miéville's New Crobuzon, Bioshock's Rapture, Pratchett's Ankh-Morpork, Disco Elysium's Revachol, David Edison's City Unspoken, Jon Ware's Eskew, and any number of the countless fictional depictions of London, Hong Kong, Cold-War Berlin, Los Angeles and, of course, New York.

This "genre" is a favourite of mine. Most strongly felt when the unity and vision for their subject (of affection) is unified in vision, deeply defined, longingly familar, tantalisingly strange and unique in a ubiquity of perspective between its physical architecture and the absurd views of its inhabitants.

These are places where you can refer to both the (un)mapped streets and their citizenry as "The City" interchangeably without negating the autonomy and presence of either.

Places that cannot be described as "Like x city, but with y concept" without utter disservice.

Places that are alive and changing and wanting and hostile and loving.

Places that are cruel and ugly and comforting and utterly remarkable.

Ambergris is one such place, a paragon of its kind. It is so much more. Its paths are winding and beautiful and deeply unsettling. It is wrong in all the right ways. It is a cathedral built in the mind, a channel of lasting silences and roaring senses flowing through them. It is a place no one has ever been, that lives now inside me.

It really is something.

"If you don't feel a certain sadness toward the past, then you probably don't understand it."

[wrongpublishing]

Increase Your Literary Body Count in 2024

by Mathew Gostelow.

"In my slut era," I whispered, sending the story out on its ninth simultaneous submission.

At the most recent count, I wrote 60-odd things in 2024 and submitted them a total of 202 times in all. 42 of them were published in some form. Along the way, I racked up 90 rejections. All in all, I published somewhere around 44,000 words in 2023.

I was whoring my stories all over, like some sort of village bike made of ink and shamelessness. I spent a year subbing sluttily. I had a blast doing it too. I got a fair few publications under my belt, made new friends, and learned some lessons as well. Here’s just a few of them…  

Change horses midstream

I’ve discovered I work best when I’m juggling multiple projects at once. It sounds counter-intuitive and I guess it might not work for everyone, but I reckon everyone should try it.

The idea is to have several stories on the go at one time. Three feels ideal. I find that I will inevitably run out of steam on a piece – my interest or focus always flags at some point. Switching to something new acts as a vital palate-cleanser. I’m able to return to each project afresh, bringing new energy and perspective thanks to the time I spent away.

Follow the fun 

Don't be afraid to mix it up. Move out of your comfort zone.

If your latest flash isn’t quite working, why not rewrite it as a poem? Or mash it together with another half-finished piece and see what happens. In a longer piece, it’s okay to jump straight to the scene that's exciting you in that moment. Fill in the gaps and the preamble later.

Try things out. Write flash, write microfiction, write a poem. Seen a shiny prompt? Go for it. Plunge into a genre that you'd normally avoid. You might have fun, you might learn something. You might even end up with a story worth submitting.

Lean into your weird

I'm not saying you're weird, but… you’re totally weird. The way you tell stories is uniquely yours. You understand the world through the filter of your own personal experiences. And you express those observations in wonderfully idiosyncratic ways. 

One thing this prolific year taught me is that I love my writing more when I delve into those quirky parts of me. It could be sharing an oddly-specific fear in a horror story, or playing with words in a way that feels pleasing and musical to me.

Putting those unusual parts of yourself out into the world can be scary, but it's also fun. And I've found that readers and editors seem to respond to it as well.

Sim-subbing is addictive - but tread carefully

Simultaneous submissions are great. Is that one mag taking a bit long to decide on whether they want you piece? Send it somewhere else. Feel those sweet endorphins coursing through your veins. Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.

Here’s what I learned from a year of very heavy simultaneous submissions: Send a piece out to as many places as you like – but only if you're equally happy with ever possible outcome. That’s the important bit.

If you have your heart set on a specific home for a story then for gawd’s sakes don't sub it anywhere else until they have decided. Otherwise you risk tying yourself in knots if/when one of the lesser mags accepts it before your dream publisher has decided.

Play fast and loose!

Themed calls are great. They can be inspiring, sparking fresh ideas in our minds. Or help us to see our existing stories in a new light. But here’s what I learned this year: don’t be afraid to come at the theme from an obtuse angle.

Editors must get tired of reading 50 different permutations of the same story. Your off-kilter take could be just the breath of fresh air they're looking for.

And if you have a story already written when a call comes along and it feels like it's close-ish to what they're looking for, then you should throw it in the mix. What have you got to lose?

A true story from this year:

I had a story accepted after misunderstanding what a themed call was all about. I didn’t read the instructions carefully enough and subbed the wrong thing. I realised immediately after pulling the trigger and considered withdrawing my piece. For some reason, though, I didn't. (Slut era!) The editors saw something in my story and accepted the piece.

Moral: Don’t slavishly follow the theme. Go crazy.

Dilute the sting

Rejections can hurt, especially if you have your sights set on a specific magazine or anthology. But you know what helps? Rebound sex. Er… I mean, rebound submissions. Get that same piece back out there. Heck, send it to two places. Go crazy. You get closure by moving on. Also, the more you submit, the more rejection notches you get on your bedpost. And you know what, after a while you’ll find it starts to sting a lot less. 

So there you go. Lessons from a promiscuous wordmonger. Why not try to up your literary body count in 2024? You might like it. Repeat after me: “Slut era���.

Mathew Gostelow (he/him) is the author of two collections; See My Breath Dance Ghostly, a book of speculative short stories (Alien Buddha Press) and Connections, a flash fiction chapbook (Naked Cat Publishing). He has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best Microfiction. @MatGost

[alaffy]

The Gilded Age - Head to Head (Spoilers)

We’re in episode three, why do I feel as though they’re still setting up for the season?  I mean, there are some stories that are on track; but it feels like other stories have had very little progression.  And there’s a least one story….

Let’s be honest, do we really care about the Vallet and his daughter?  Maybe if we had gotten to know that character better, but…

Marion’s story is progressing just like I thought.  Agnes’ nephew is interested in Marion and has let Agnes know.  Marion just thinks the nephew is being friendly.  Agnes approves of the match, but needs to figure out a way to manipulate (let’s be honest about what it is) Marion into a marriage. 

Ada finally has a first, uh, outing with the Rector.  Agnes will not be happy.

The Widow is clearly using Larry for a good time.  I mean, I know Larry’s young; but, damn, she couldn’t drop any more signs that he’s just a fling.

Oscar seems to be getting along with his new (money) interest.

Peggy has convinced the newspaper editor to allow her to go with him to visit Tuskegee, Alabama for a story on Booker T. Washington.  Peggy goes back home to get more summer clothes and lets Dorothy know about where she is going.  Dorothy, understandably, does not want Peggy to go.  And, well…look, we all know Peggy is neither stupid nor ignorant; she knows that things are going to be bad in the South.  But there’s a difference between knowing about something and living through it.  I don’t think Peggy is fully prepared for what she’s about to experience. 

But going on to the main story/stories tonight.  The episode starts with Bertha giving a party in hopes to get people to take boxes as The Met.  She’s invited several of the Old Guard that she thinks she might be able to convince that it would be possible to take a box at both venues.  Of course, this includes her former Lady’s maid; Turner now Winterton.  And, of course, the servants find out that Turner has married into the Upper Class; which leads to gossip. 

Winterton, however, is not interested in taking a box at the Met.  She just wanted to rub Bertha’s face in the fact that she’s now part of the Upper Class, that she knows the Duke of Buckingham, and George has kept something from Bertha. Basically, a bitchy information dump.

Oh, and there’s this funny little scene where McAllister, who was at Bertha’s party, has to sneak over to Agnes’ where Ms. Astor is holding a meeting on what to do about The Met.  And boy does he have information (although he doesn’t let them know he was at Bertha’s party or heard it from Bertha herself).  Apparently, the opening day for the first season of the Met will be the same day as the opening for the next season of The Music Hall.  Scandal!  Ms. Astor asks Agnes to write to the members of the Old Guard saying that she (Agnes) heard a rumor that if someone takes a box at The Met, they’ll loose their box at The Music Hall (Ms. Astor can’t be the one to tell everyone this because that would mean Ms. Astor is making it a policy and right now Ms. Astor is only trying to scare people).

Anyway, I have a feeling that Ms. Astor is soon to learn about the whole Turner/Winterton thing as one of the Servants in the Russell house told one of the Servants in the Van Rijn house and we all know where this will lead.

Going back to Bertha.  Bertha confronts George and he tells her about how Winterton did slip into his bed one night and that nothing happened.  And…I don’t know…I feel like Bertha’s reaction was more for the drama.  Don’t get me wrong, I fully believe the character of Bertha would be pissed at George.  But I feel she would have been more, you should have told me not just because I’m your wife and I deserved to know; but because this was a staff member who reported directly to me and because, if Winterton had so chosen, could have caused us/or could cause us great harm.  Like she would have been hurt, yes, but she also would have known where exactly to put the blame (on Winterton for trying to sleep with her husband and for Gorge not to tell her about the incident).

So, this causes a big riff between them and Bertha almost doesn’t show up for the luncheon, that George has planned with the Union Rep, like she promised.  Shocking! But she does show and George has a talk with the man.  It doesn’t go George’s way.  He thinks he has the upper hand, but he doesn’t know his workers are about to Strike.

At the end of the episode, Bertha finds George and lets him know the Duke of Buckingham is coming to America (I think this would be the future King Edward VII).  She wants George to find out when he’s arriving and where he’s staying because she wants to get in his good graces and rub Winterton’s nose in it.  If George does this for her, than maybe he’ll be back in her good graces.          

[thefearandnow]

Audio Drama Sunday: 12/18/22

The Sheridan Tapes

Alright so I’ve officially finished season one of the Sheridan Tapes and I think overall it was a great run. I’d say the first half of it was a little bit frustrating for me but that the last 6 episodes or so really started to feel much more consistent and focused. I get why the first 14 episodes are the way they are but for me it just felt like so much build up that never fully satisfied me. It’s probably my editor brain kicking into gear but there was a lot of early episodes that I think could’ve been simplified.

That said, I think there is an art to writing a podcast that can anticipate fandom and can play off its audience and I think The Sheridan Tapes is an incredible example of that. It’s not really my style of audio drama but the fact that it’s been able to sustain a fan base and grow a community around the story and characters is really inspiring. It’s that fandom that makes other people want to listen and it’s always amazing to watch that magic play out via different corners of the internet. And quite honestly I’m sure the things that I was frustrated by in terms of plot and pacing are what avid listeners love about it. Even if I had some issues with it, I’m glad I finished the first season and gave it a shot! The people who make it are lovely and I’ll probably at least start the final season (which got fully crowdfunded!!)

Shipworm

Two-Up Productions has produced some of my favorite fiction podcasts (36 Questions, season 1 of Limetown) and though I'm not sure this is really the "first" feature length audio drama piece, it might be the most memorable. Something that I think Two-Up does really well with their audio projects is that they treat the listener's position with a lot of care. In the case of Shipworm, the space for the listener is claustrophobically intimate and yet alienating, cleverly using spatial audio to put the listener in a liminal space between technology and consciousness. This relationship between the listener, Wallace (the main character) and the voice that may or may not be real is the main crux of this piece, holding all the character development, causing story twists and fueling a tone of paranoia throughout. The music and scoring is cinematic and impressive, the acting is masterful and even though details of the story could get confusing, there was never a point where I stopped trusting the writing to fill in the blanks and hold my hand. I recommend finding time to listen to it in all one go, I think there are some natural pause points where you'd expect an episode to end or an ad break to break up the flow but it was an incredible experience to absorb the whole story in a 116 min sprint. I can imagine relistening to this a couple times just to experience it all again, the immediacy and style was such an entertaining listen.

Joy to the World

This holiday limited series from audio drama vets like @starplanes and @innbetween is so cute and wholesome, a perfect feel good listen written for all ages. It’s a sweet little collection of audio Christmas cards in the form of holiday conversations shared over the radio waves, hosted by a lonely astronaut, Joy. It’s got some Charlie Brown Christmas references mixed with Delilah-esque intimacy and some nuanced discussions about family, vulnerability and queerness. Each episode is a snack sized scene that melted my heart, there’s 7 episodes out that I listened to all today. Really looking forward to the rest leading up to Christmas Eve! My favorite one so far is “Dorothy, Out at Sea”

Also for me, Christmas and radio is such a classic combo and it’s so cool to have holiday audio drama like this to listen to. I’m curious if there are other holiday-themed fiction podcasts out there?

Edit: didn’t realize they have a tumblr! @jttwpod

Burning Gotham

This week I listened to episodes 6-7 as well as a behind the scenes bonus episode and it unfortunately is just not doing it for me. In addition to all the other critiques I've had of the show over the last few weeks, what I realized this week is that the thing preventing me from liking this show is my editor brain flagging missed opportunities. Of course, this is kind of useless and selfish feedback because the underlying mentality is "this is what I would've done." But I think for my own ears there are a lot of choices in terms of pacing, structure and aesthetic that feel more distracting for me as a listener than engaging. And it just takes me out of the experience. Like why was there sound effects and 1835 scene audio all the way through the bonus episode? I understand the cutting into the scenes for reference but why is it present throughout people's interviews if this is the non-fiction part of the show? I can hear and see the shape of influences like 1865 or even something like NPR's Throughline which is why I was excited to listen but there isn't any particularly strong commitment to a recognizable style to get me excited to keep listening. I think there's only one episode left so I'm probably going to listen to that last one but I probably won't write about it.

Honorable Mention:

This is just sorta becoming my non-fiction podcast corner but I listened through all of the second season of Cover Story and I’m still just floored. NY Mag’s investigative series was one of my favorite podcasts last year and this season is similarly jaw dropping. In the first thirty seconds they say that most of the people they interviewed lied to them and then from there it’s an absolutely bat shit story that I won’t spoil. So many cringey texts and emails, amazing storytelling and brilliant scoring. It’s only 6 episodes and each one is just as addictive as the next!

[blamemma]

all the books i read in august 😁

urmmm first off, a great reading month numerically for me especially considering august is my biggest work month but a lot of back and forth on trains helped but also just reading some excellent books!!

at swim two boys by jamie o'neill - 5* ; yep new all time favourite. straight into the top 5 books i have ever read. it's really hard to capture the beauty of this novel when its so wrapped up in such grim experiences and harsh longing. o'neill crafts this perfect dance that keeps u turning page after page and what was a 600 slow-paced historical novel about two boys falling in love breezed by.

the snakehead by patrick radden keefe - 4* ; u can tell this is keefe's first novel, but it's still good, it still does what keefe is good at, centering one key character and building outwards from there, but it lacked some of the refinement and bite that keefe's other books excel in having

the selfless act of breathing by jj bola - 2* ; this wasn't necessarily bad, it was just too much. dialogue was poor, metaphors plentiful, and a story that really could have packed a punch got lost in trying desperately to be something profound and encapsulating. i think if bola's editor had cut out half the crap and asked bola simplify his artistry this could have been a really great novel. this feels like a counter-productive thing to say but too much time was spent waxing lyrical about events or things that just didn't need to have time spent on them. i would definitely check out bola's poetry because you can 100% see the skill he has in this novel.

penance by eliza clark - 4* ; ahhhhh this really itched that true-crime-hater spot in me. this really laid bare the dirtiness of it all, but also did what clark does best, and shows you the grimness of people and the world. i really loved what she did with form here and the way we moved through the story was well-paced, each reveal coming slowly, the puzzle finally forming together. there's no redeeming qualities in anyone, but that's the point, and clark delivers once again.

briefly, a delicious life by nell stevens - 3.5 maybe 4* ; picked this one up by accident when i was meaning to purchase a certain hunger by chelsea summers (the uk covers are v similar ok!) but actually really enjoyed this one. a weird sapphic ghost love story focused on george sands and frederic chopin, and a ghost called blanca. i loved blanca's narrative voice and how we play around in that weird limbo state between life and death and what it means to be alive and what it means to be dead. this was clever. i enjoyed it. the ending just............yeah it didn't do it for me which was a shame.....i think if maybe stevens had spent more time building chopin and sands relationship, then maybe it would have just hit that lil bit harder!!

[starberry-cupcake]

I spent the past week re-reading a novel I started to write when I was 17 and abandoned a couple years after.

I had written it in notebooks because my first novel (that I wrote when I was 14) got lost in computer mess ups. I had decided to drop that one anyway because a friend at school made me feel insecure when she kind of mocked it for being self-insert-y/wish fulfillment-y. This would be something the fic world would also advice me strongly against.

Anyway, I knew where the second one was all along but I was afraid of re-visiting it ever since I abandoned it, like 14 years ago? not sure when exactly. I guess I was partially afraid of the cringe and partially afraid of finding that it wasn't that different from what I do now.

I think that many years studying in spaces that undervalued the kind of fantasy narrative I enjoyed and pushed me to fit more conventional boxes for what is published more successfully in my country had a bit on an effect on my perception of my younger self.

The editor side made me hyper aware of mistakes and issues, so I started to be more and more reticent to enjoy the process and even afraid to start them, if I judged them unworthy from the get-go.

The literary workshops that were always focused on contemporary fiction (no fantasy, sci fi or horror) intended me to fit more commercially viable molds where I live and "push me out of my confort zone" (words I was told many times in them) so much that I became afraid that going back to what I enjoyed would mean sacrificing "progress".

In the past few years, I noticed these things, been working on them and decided to finally sit down and write a sci fi fantasy project I've been marinating in my head for ages.

There's one thing from that second teen novel I had written that I wanted to keep, so I took the notebooks out from their box and read them.

Imagine my surprise upon finding out that I had written over 400 pages before abandoning it.

Contrary to my fears, reading it was a pretty great experience. It was a product of a teen me and all but I was so invested and I had so much fun writing it.

However, as cool as some concepts were and as wide a world I had built and character roster I had accomplished, I realized upon reading it back that is was very...impersonal.

It was drenched in things I liked and enjoyed in media, and it had some ideas of things I thought were interesting to work with, but I didn't see myself reflected in it. There was some stuff, there always is in art, but I think I had taken the criticisms on self-insertion so hard that I left out all of my experiences and perceptions of self.

I shoehorned in a lot of things and I can tell and remember how some of it was doing what I thought had to be done in a story like that. I had gone so far off the extreme of "no self-insertion" that I didn't see myself reflected in my own imagination.

The names sounded foreign, the spaces looked foreign (now there's thankfully more fantasy that isn't Euro-based or US-based but at that time it was rare), the bodies were unlike mine, the identities were different from what I experienced myself at that time and even now.

I know we all do this and I know it's not a bad thing to reproduce what you admire and like but, as cool as the story was for something I wrote in my teens; for the most part, it felt as if it could have come out of anywhere, not necessarily from me. If that makes any sense at all.

It was actually better than I remember it being and I can see in its progress an interesting development of me as a writer. I cherish the characters and story and will take that bit I remembered for something new. But I can't help but feel a bit sad.

Sad for the 14 year old I tried to tone down for being wish-fullfilment-y and self-insert-y, to the point of not seeing in her a story worth telling. And sad for the 17 year old because I spent all this time hiding her in a box and afraid of the cringe she might have created.

They were both cool fun imaginative girls and I'd like them to come with me in my new journey with this new project. They were "young and unafraid", but mostly unafraid, and that's something I admire from them.

[ensnchekov-a]

Get to know the author!

name : red, niza, hell you could even call me pavel if you wanted to idgaf. i'll respond to any name so long as i know it's me whose attention you're trying to get. pronouns :  i take any pronouns tbh. preference of communication : disco. even if it takes me some time to see it or respond, i'm always on there. most active muse :  pasha. experience / how many years :  what, fifteen years now? give or take? idk man. best experience : the people i've met and the stories / worlds we've weaved, hands-down. i've met people through rp who are some of the most dear people to me irl and i'm so happy to have met them through this little hobby that i don't tell anyone else irl about that i'm into. i've got inside jokes for days from old rps that i'll take to my grave. i've (i think) grown as a writer so much even in just my short return to tumblr and keep meeting more great people. rp pet peeves : right now, definitely this new editor (it counts). people who remake their blog every week because i just can't keep up with that. 40x40 icons with a border that has 1800 things going on because i end up looking at the border and don't know where the actual fc icon is. they're usually pretty as fuck, don't get me wrong, but it detracts from what the icon's really meant to be used for imo. fluff, angst, or smut : i'm going to have to go with angst/drama. usually because it's part of something very multi-faceted and deep and wild that forces me to push my muse and explore them in greater depth. fluff i can handle for a while, but it often has little plot on its own and i prefer it as an add-on to something else that's happening, or maybe it's advancing relationships/the plot somehow. i love to talk about the smutty side of relationships/dynamics, but i'm not confident in writing it, plus where pav's concerned, not sure how much i'd really ever be in the position to have to worry about that anyway. plots or memes : memes are a hell of a lot of fun and they definitely kickstart interactions (says me who never really reblogs memes ever), but i've learned i prefer plotting, no question. i get invested in plotted memes and having even some sort of path and knowledge of what i'm working with really helps me expand on this world that's being created in a way i can't with just winging it without feeling like i'm taking control or overstepping or what have you. plus, plots allow me to go fuck-all wild and really chat and have a good time with the other mun. long or short replies :  i am going to say long because i cannot keep my replies short. i always end up getting carried away and saying too much, whether it's internal thoughts, actions, or describing a setting. time to write: honestly, anytime the inspiration strikes. sometimes that is early, sometimes it's at 0300. i have no set time where i sit down and say now i write!! though i do find that i have the most inspiration when i am in places i don't want to be. for example, i think i write some of my best replies on mobile when i'm stuck at my desk at work. are you like your muse : hmmm in some ways. much like pav, i do actually love to learn and i hate not knowing things (though my memory is nowhere near as good as his, so i forget things quite often.) i also have a very strained relationship with my dad, but for different reasons.

tagged by: @transcendcnce, @nebulaties, @my-timing-is-digital, & @gnosticpriesthood (ta you guys!) tagging: you! over there!