an introduction and some books
hi hotties!
the idea for this blog came from the twisted fantasy of my three closest friends and i as a way of producing something collaborative and creative without submitting ourselves to the mortifying ordeal of being known. we all get a fun little code name (i'm ruminating on magnolia, which i like but also think is a bit wanky in a way that i can't reconcile myself with spiritually just yet) and a week of the month to post whatever we want. the idea was essentially to create a platform where we get to talk uninterrupted shit about anything we want to because it’s our fucking blog, goddamit, and you’re not going to come onto our blog and tell us how to post.
and so, to kick things off, i am going to be talking about my favourite books of 2023 because i am cultured and sophisticated and definitely didn’t spend the first half of the year drowning in fae romantasy smut in an attempt to feel something. if you don’t like any of these books don’t tell me because i simply don’t care!! xoxo
non-fiction favourite - the anthropocene reviewed, john green
i spent 2023 working very hard to reprogramme my misanthropic brain, and this book was a huge part of what allowed me to do that. i’m still by no means cured of my hater tendencies, but this book was a beautifully tender examination of that little spark of humanity that connects us all, and the numerous ways in which it has manifested throughout human history and across the borders of nationality, age, and gender. green somehow manages to weave in his own life experiences in a way that avoids being preachy or self-aggrandising in a way that i think a lot of non-fiction writers really struggle with - i’d also highly recommend consuming this in audiobook form as his narration really made the experience for me.
fantasy favourite - a court of silver flames, sarah j maas
if you read this and immediately want to start lecturing me on how booktok is ruining the fantasy genre please know that im manifesting your downfall as we speak. i have my own issues with the flattening of the fantasy genre that takes place on tiktok, but the acotar series is a sugary, pulpy delight and this spinoff novel is where, in my humble opinion, it really hits its peak. as you can probably tell just by reading this, i am what is affectionately known as ‘a prickly unfriendly bitch’ in my day-to-day life, and i love seeing characters who represent me in a way that doesn’t glamourise being an unkind person - and nesta in this book is someone whose tendency to push people away isn’t justified or apologised for, and whose growth i found legitimately inspiring. also i’m still waiting for sarah j maas to stop teasing a dp scene and actually write it, the coward.
sci-fi favourite - the arc of a scythe trilogy, neal schusterman
this trilogy rocked me to my fucking core, bitch. this was another audiobook read from early 2023 and it’s one of the better pieces of speculative fiction i’ve ever encountered. schusterman pulls off some really complicated and in-depth worldbuilding in a way that doesn’t feel like i’m reading an instruction manual - something that’s genuinely hard to do in this genre - and the series only gets better as it goes. as someone who is profoundly afraid of artificial intelligence this offered a perspective on ai that i’ve not really seen in media before now - and i will also be thinking about my pookie scythe lucifer for ever and ever amen.
lit fic favourite - all the names they used for god, anjali sachdeva
i’m actually not going to talk about this one too much because it’s quite a difficult book to explain without giving away too much - not in a spoiler sense, but in a 'this is an experience that you need to go into with an open mind' sense. this is a collection of short stories that play with genre, setting, and character to tell a series of profound stories about the human struggle with fate and the pursuit of meaning. sachdeva manages to build such engrossing and vibrant worlds in the limited space she allows herself for each story - and she avoided the pitfall i find that a lot of short story anthologies fall into where you can very clearly tell that the writer had one story they desperately wanted to publish and wrote the rest as a way of filling up space for a full book.
well, those are some of my 2023 faves. i have a million honourable mentions but i’m not going to put them here because i’ve already written way too much. i’m not sure who’s taking over the reins for week 2 of this little blog experiment but be sure to give them a kiss on the forehead from me!
yours,
magnolia
2 notes
·
View notes
Writing Sketch #1
About a month ago I made this post about doing a writing equivalent of posting sketches, and then promptly didn't do anything about it. Well I'm finally posting one! All of these will be tagged with "writing sketch" and "writing doodles"
This is a fic idea that I had and started writing when I was in high school (circa 2015). It's a Teen Wolf AU set in the world of the UnWind series by Neal Schusterman. In it, Stiles and Scott are runaways (AWOLs) being chased by Peter Hale. Derek, known as the Alpha, helps runaways escape to a hidden community that provides refuge to AWOL kids (Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Erica, and Boyd were all going to be there). Melissa was going to be there as a nurse, and the Sheriff was also going to be there in some capacity. I never ended up writing the thing (except what's below), but it was going to be whumpy as hell (obviously)
xxx
“Stiles, we’re three hundred miles from home. I highly doubt anyone knows us here. I’ve still got a little cash, and we haven’t had a decent meal in days. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Stiles snorted. “Oh, I dunno Scott. It could be that news has gotten out about two rogue AWOLS who tranq Juvie cops. We could be taken by a couple of them and unwound in camps. Or we could be drugged and taken by parts pirates and unwound in an old warehouse somewhere with rusty tools and no anesthetic. Or maybe there’s a serial killer who targets teenage boys, and he-”
“Okay, okay, I get it!” Scott interrupted with a glare.
Stiles sighed. “Look, I just don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s all.”
“You can order bacon and eggs,” Scott said in a sing-songy voice, smiling inwardly as he saw Stiles’s face change, his resolve clearly shaken. Scott went in for the kill. “Banana pancaaaaakes.”
Stiles crumbled. “Fine! We’ll go get breakfast in town! But if we get caught, they will be down one unwind because I will kill you. Got it?”
Scott grinned. “Fair enough.” They walked in silence, and fifteen minutes later they were at the edge of a small town.
“You sure you wanna do this?” Stiles asked.
“Banana pancakes,” Scott replied.
It was enough of an answer for Stiles and he led the way in search of something to eat. They settled on a tiny diner, a family owned dive that looked like it hadn’t seen any renovations since the 1970s. It had a cozy, friendly feel to it, and Scott felt immediately at ease. Stiles still seemed a bit on edge, but that was just the way he was. By the time the waitress, an older lady with curly hair, and a smile that could light up the room, came to take their orders though, he’d relaxed a little and actually seemed to be enjoying himself.
They didn’t talk much as they waited for breakfast, but that was okay. They’d been friends their entire lives since becoming roommates at the ward house. They’d also been getting into trouble together just as long--hence the dual unwind orders, and the subsequent Being on the Lam together. The waitress was back before they knew it, and the the sight and smell of an actual meal set Scott’s mouth to watering and his stomach to growling.
“I’m gonna savor this,” he said, dousing his French toast with syrup. He was mildly amused but not surprised to see that Stiles was already scarfing his food, barely stopping even to take a breath. Scott took his first bit and immediately understood Stiles’ impulse to shovel his food.
The hot, syrupy decadence of roadside breakfast was in sharp contrast to the dry, tasteless protein bars they’d been living on for the last week, and his immediate desire was to put as much of the sticky goodness into his body in as little time as possible. By the time he was done, his face and fingers were sticky and he had a full stomach, aching a little in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
“That,” Stiles said emphatically, “was a wonderful idea.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me I was right?”
Stiles made a face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Oh, man. If we hadn’t had to ditch our cells, I would record that and set it as my ringtone.”
“Ha ha ha,” Stiles said sarcastically, but there was a smile in his eyes. “Enjoy it while you can. That’s the last time you’ll ever hear that from me.”
Scott laughed. The waitress chose that moment to come check in. “How is every-oh!” She looked at the already empty plates with wide eyes and raised eyebrows and Scott couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, it was catching, because Stiles joined in, and so did the waitress. When she returned a few minutes later with the bill, all they found was a note that said, “This one’s on us.”
For the moment, the world, and the people in it, were good.
XXX
“Let’s turn down this alley,” Stiles said under his breath.
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!” Stiles hissed, grabbing Scott’s arm and dragging him into a long, narrow alley between two brown brick buildings. He ducked down behind a dumpster and Scott, perplexed, did the same.
“What’s going on?” Scott whispered.
“I think we’re being followed.”
“What?”
“There was this guy at the cafe who left right after we did and I’m pretty sure he’s tailing us,” Stiles explained quickly, his voice shaking. He felt his muscles tensing as adrenaline flooded his system, fight-or-flight kicking in.
“You’re just being paranoid,” Scott said, standing.
“No!” Stiles cried, just as a crack split the air.
“Shit!” Scott yelled, collapsing back behind the dumpster with his hands over his head and his eyes wide. “Shit, Stiles, that was a real bullet!”
Stiles’s heart sped up and his mind raced. “Okay, Scott, I need you to distract him.”
“What?! How?”
“I don’t know!” Stiles hissed, pulling his backpack off. “Talk to him!” Stiles shuffled through the contents of his bag, pulling what he needed out as he found it. Meanwhile, Scott started yelling at the gunman.
“You know, Juvie cops aren’t allowed to carry real bullets, much less fire them at kids!”
“I’m not a cop!” the man called back.
“Parts pirate then? Well, you can’t very well sell parts of a dead kid!” Scott shouted, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I find real bullets much more effective in discouraging dipshit kids from running! Besides, I don’t shoot to kill, and a mostly good body still fetches quite a price on the black market!”
“Get ready to run,” Stiles muttered to Scott. Scott nodded. Stiles pulled a lighter out of his pocket and held the flame up to the soaking rag that was hanging out of the bottle of whiskey he’d dug out of his bag.
“Go!” Stiles shouted. In one swift motion, he stood and hurled the makeshift Molotov cocktail at the parts pirate and took off running behind Scott. He heard glass shattering and a shout and looked over his shoulder.
The bottle had hit the man’s shoulder, and flames were spreading across his shirt and licking at his neck and face. The man let out a howl of rage and pain and began firing, shooting wildly and blindly a few times before hitting the ground and rolling, putting out the flames that had engulfed him before falling still.
Scott had stopped a few feet ahead and Stiles slowed to a halt beside him.
“What...the hell...was that?” Scott asked breathlessly.
“Molotov...Molotov cocktail. I snagged the whiskey from the warden’s desk before we left.”
Scott smiled and let out a nervous laugh. “Damn.”
Stiles smiled too and turned from the smoking form on the ground, heading toward the open end of the alley, Scott on his heels. Then, several things happened at once: a black car pulled up, blocking the end of the alley; behind them, the parts pirate rose to his feet and raised his weapon.
They were trapped.
“That way!” Stiles shouted, pushing Scott toward the car. The back door opened and the car’s window rolled down, revealing a scruffy young man no more than a few years older than them.
“Get in!” he cried.
The space between the the boys and the car shrank. Three yards, two, one, a foot. Scott was in the car and Stiles was about to follow him when a crack sounded and a hot, piercing pain shot through his back, near his right hip. He let out a cry and hit the ground, just in front of the open car.
“Stiles!” Scott cried, grabbing him under the arms and dragging him into the car as the parts pirate screamed, “I’m going to kill you!”
Stiles pulled the door shut and the car sped away with a squeal, shot ricocheting off of the metal.
“He okay?” the driver asked, glancing into the rearview mirror.
Scott was pale, and he was staring at something. “I think it’s a through and through,” he answered, his voice tight.
Stiles blinked heavily, not sure what Scott meant. The pain in his back was making his head foggy, and he was suddenly exhausted. There was pain in his front, too, which was confusing, and he looked down with a frown, startled to see blood soaking the front of his shirt.
“Wh...what is this?” He mumbled, putting his hand over the place where the sticky red substance seemed to be coming from.
“I think that’s where the bullet came out,” Scott answered, only his voice sounded funny. Stiles’s head started to nod, but Scott’s voice snapped him out of it. “Don’t sleep! Stiles, you have to stay awake.”
Stiles blinked slowly. He felt strange, sort of floaty.
“Stiles? Stiles, you with me?” Scott’s voice was far away, and Stiles didn’t have the strength to answer. He tried to stay awake like Scott said, but the black at the edge of his vision was growing.
It didn’t take long to suffocate him.
XXX
“He’s unconscious and he won’t wake up!” Scott cried, his heart hammering wildly. His chest was getting tight, his throat threatening to close. It was getting harder to breathe, and he reached for his inhaler. It wasn’t in his pocket. He checked the other one. It wasn’t there, either. Shit.
“You looking for this?” the driver of the car asked, holding up the inhaler. Scott grabbed it and puffed the medicine, grateful as his airways relaxed and opened. “You left it on the seat at the diner. I figured you might need it.”
Scott nodded, breathing deeply. “Yeah. Thanks. Look, Stiles needs help. Where are you taking us?”
“Somewhere safe. We’ve got doctors there for exactly this kind of thing. He’ll be okay. My name’s Derek, by the way. I’ve been following you two since Beacon Hills.”
Scott felt his eyes widen. “Derek Hale. The Alpha.”
Derek looked at him in the rearview mirror. “That’s what they call me, yeah.”
4 notes
·
View notes