#reverse outline

[the-wip-project]

With the big annual novel writing month coming up there’s a lot of excitement and preparation going on. 

The thing is, while doing Nano can be a great experience, it’s definitely not for everyone.

It’s overwhelming to a lot of people, takes a lot of time and energy, and is notorious for burning writers out. Most people quit well before reaching 50k, and among those rare few that make it across the finish line, many end up creatively exhausted and don’t write again for months.

Personally, I find that a slower more persistent approach is far more effective long term.

What if, instead of spending hours a day grinding out words in a blur of stress and exhaustion, you could write your novel in fifteen to twenty minutes a day?

That is my challenge. On November 1st, join me for a SloMo WriNo. Spend fifteen minutes writing, every day (or most days, we’ll discuss that in a later post) for a year, and by November 2024 you’ll have a novel completed.

And drop by the WIP Project discord. We’ll be able to encourage each other, do group sprints and share our progress.

More posts to come with all the details on how this will all work. Plus help on setting your word count goals, finding the time to write, and suggestions on the best ways to manage an outline and track your progress. Don't worry! It's going to be fun!

— Maree

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

What To Do When You Know Your Ending but Have No Clue How to Get There

congrats. you’ve unlocked the most ✨ cursed ✨ form of storytelling: knowing the destination but having zero map, no snacks, and one emotionally unstable protagonist riding shotgun.

aka: you know how your book ends. maybe even the Last Line™. but the middle? the plot? the scenes required to get there?

🦗🦗🦗

welcome to liminal writing hell. here’s what to do about it:

🚨 STEP 1: Write the ending anyway.

yes. even if you’re only on chapter three. write the ending now. not perfectly. not canon. just get it down while it’s burning in your brain.

this does 2 things:

gets you emotionally invested in where you’re headed

gives you a north star to align your scenes to

future-you will thank you when you're knee-deep in act 2, spiraling, and you need to remember what this mess was for.

🧩 STEP 2: Backwards logic it like a feral detective.

ask: what has to happen right before this ending can exist? then ask that question again. and again. until you’ve accidentally built a whole reverse-outline.

like:

✨ final scene: heroine stabs the love interest to save the world → she needs to know he’s the villain → she needs to see him do something unforgivable → she needs a reason to be in the same room as him when it happens → she needs to go to the city where he’s hiding → she needs to choose betrayal over loyalty

now reverse those like breadcrumbs through the forest of chaos.

🎯 STEP 3: Identify your mid-point emotional switch.

the best middles aren’t just “stuff happening.” they’re a turning point. a reversal. a Big Choice. often it’s the opposite of the ending.

ending = character sacrifices love midpoint = character believes love will fix everything

this sets up contrast + emotional stakes. the midpoint shows how wrong they are. the ending proves how far they’ve come.

no midpoint? no tension. build the middle to break them, then rebuild toward the finale.

🧱 STEP 4: Stack up your themes like Jenga blocks.

what are you actually saying with this ending?

if the ending is: “freedom comes at a price” then the story needs to explore:

what freedom means

who pays that price

how people deny the cost

how your protagonist learns to accept it

if your middle scenes aren’t touching these ideas? they’re just filler. start weaving the theme early, subtly, and repeatedly. make it hurt a little.

📦 STEP 5: Write “junk scenes” in the blank spaces.

not sure how they get from castle to climax? write a fake scene. not canon. no pressure. just vibes. let the characters mess around in the setting. argue. kiss. kill. eat soup. whatever.

you’ll learn what they want, what secrets they’re hiding, what tensions spark.

some of these junk scenes will turn out to be real. others will guide you to what needs to happen next. use them as scaffolding.

🧃 STEP 6: Accept that messy = forward.

you won’t always see the whole road. write the next landmark. write the next mistake. write the next bad scene and figure out why it doesn’t work.

knowing your ending is a gift. the rest? that’s the part where you dig.

you don’t need a perfect bridge. you just need enough planks to get across without falling into the river of I’ll-Fix-It-Later.

now go. write the scene where everything breaks.

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

🕯️ download the pack & write something cursed:

[deikshen]

The Heavenly-Demon Emperor Shen Qingqiu tears open the worlds with Xin Mo in search of a disciple who doesn't hate him because he accidentally saw a world where that happened—a world where the irascible disciple who he loved and spoiled so much (IN A HEALTHY WAY!!! He was a master even being a vile demon, of course he wouldn't covet his students when they were children!!! His feelings... changed when his main disciple grew up!!!) did not throw him into the Endless Abyss when Shen Qingqiu revealed his blood heritage to protect him.

A world where Shen Qingqiu instead obtained a kind and gentle disciple who, despite having to push him into the Endless Abyss with tears in his eyes, ended up waiting for, without revealing his identity to anyone in the sect, waiting and defending his name... and marrying him after a few chaotic misunderstandings!!

And Shen Qingqiu is of course on edge. He... He always doted on that disciple of his. Ever since he was a tiny bun, a white lotus. It broke his heart to have to kill him when it was clear there could never be a world where they could both live. He had killed him quickly, painlessly, and wept as if the tortured man had been himself for days.

So, Shen Qingqiu have that qi deviation and he see this other world—HAS HE MARRIED HIS GENTLE, BEAUTIFUL DISCIPLE? His gorgeous white lotus, so beautiful, so capable of loving him...

Shen Qingqiu is smart, of course. He knows that his disciple could never have married him. The man that he raised to be such a fair and just cultivator would never harbor anything but contempt for someone like him, a heavenly demon having to hide among human. So, knowing this, he understands—another soul has changed his disciple's fate and his decisions. And Shen Qingqiu will find him.

... And there is Luo Binghe, a world away. Several jobs to support himself, an orphan without support from anyone, without many friends or money to pay for his university studies. His only entertainment is reading this free xianxia webnovel of drama, revenge, and conquest—although of course, he thinks it needs a good romance. Shen Qingqiu is definitely his favorite protagonist ever, even if many stupid people hate him! He can't afford expensive merch or fan projects based on the novel, but his virtual gallery of fanarts and others is HUGE!!

His apartment is a small place in a not very safe area of the city. So when he comes home from work one day and finds to an intruder, in fact, he is not surprised. He is more surprised because the intruder is the most gorgeous and wonderful Shen Qingqiu cosplay he's ever seen in front of him in his whole life, Luo Binghe might be losing his mind a little.

But that sword looks very real... And why is Shen Qingqiu calling him my dear disciple??!

... Luo Binghe isn't objecting at all, actually.

[sisterdragonwithfeathers]

I’m losing my mind over this Ghost!Lucy and Human!Skull AU I just came up with

[neo-exploded]

kill them with bug spray ill make character sheets for em later

[quadrantadvisor]

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

-

Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,” Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

[acesw]

Knowing our Arcanists 1: Sonetto

Welcome to the first entry of this new series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999, and of course we will start with the game's featured character: Sonetto!

Sonetto is one of the first characters that we meet in this game, and I really love her as a character. I found her origins to be one of the most vague and one that I really wish that it could be further explored in a future patch. However, we make do with what we know about her in the story and in the game. That aside, lets get started.

Sonetto is an arcanist with an Italian lineage. Her arcane skill is being able to visualize and materialize poetry, and she practices it by reading them and painting what she can see. Despite being reserved, she is an innately curious person, sometimes subtly deviating from her path to satiate her curiosity. She may be grateful for being raised under the Foundation's roof, but she hopes that she's able to continue exploring the world on her own.

Driven by her desires and passions as an arcanist, she strives for peace among mankind, and works hard to be able to help everyone around her. She serves as a model investigator in the St. Pavlov Foundation.

Being born without family, Sonetto was taken into the Foundation at a very young age. And during this time, she worked intensely to perform amazingly as a student, and has always been known to be one of the best amongst her peers. With SPDM's teachings, she was a model student and future investigator.

She was very well-loved by instructors and students alike in the school, and she kept working hard to upkeep her performance over the years. Most of her curiosity had been pushed down to adhere to her teachings, but is sometimes rooted out because of a fellow classmate of hers: Vertin. As they were deskmates, Vertin was known to have attempted to create closure with Sonetto by bringing the things that made the former (and the latter) curious, such as stones, frogs, and toffees.

However, due to Sonetto's attempts to repress such desires, she stopped Vertin from bringing her anything "not allowed in the school." It didn't stop the two of them being together, but it created an emotional rift despite them turning to each other for help.

In her later years in SPDM, Sonetto's status as a top student and dedication to the Foundation remained unchanged, continuing to work hard to be able to graduate. However, she continued to be attentive to her classmates and friends, simply wanting them to be safe and happy above all else. Even when faced with the choice of having to bring the breakaway students back into the shelter, with the choice of joining Vertin and them, she could only let them be. It was too much of a risk. Whether she did or never knew what happened to them and what became of Vertin (before the prologue) is up to interpretation.

She eventually graduated, and naturally rose the ranks within the Foundation and became a squad leader in an investigation team. After what happened in the prologue, she was promoted to work alongside the Timekeeper, and neither of them left each other's side since.

Sonetto's curiosity starts coming to light again as she starts finding her own interests, where she reads and answers newspapers during the mornings and scrapbooks articles that she found interesting. She takes guidance from other poets to further expand her knowledge and practice. Sonetto wishes to travel under the guise of missions and breaks, and hopes to be guided by her friends so she could learn about the world.

On multiple occasions, her kindness and straightforward words shine through, complimenting everyone around her and treating everyone fairly. This doesn't mean that Sonetto is picture perfect, though. At times, she's overcome by her passion and emotions, becoming easy to get a reaction from. Efficient and calculated, but also quick to turn aggressive.

Throughout the course of the story, we see Sonetto's repressed nature slowly turn on its head as she spends time with Vertin and their newfound friends. In Chapters 4-5, she continues to defend Vertin and the rest of Team Timekeeper, and even bring posthumous justice to Schneider after learning of her origins. She's fortunately guided by her goal to help everyone to be able to defend her friends continuously and strive to give justice to those she's lost.

As the story moves forward, we'll continuously see how her character develops, and hopefully we'll get to see a story of her own in the future. Feel free to ask any questions about her! :)

[nemaliwrites]

10,025 words today! my first 10k day since a year and a half ago surprisingly, but i still got it! i didn't actually work on this fic today, but have a snippet from the post wish AU - i need to get back to this...

“M. Agreste!” one of the reporters calls. He shoulders his way to the front, face painted with a layer of curiosity. Beneath that, poison. “Does your wife’s recovery have anything to do with Monarch’s defeat?”

Several things happen at once: Gabriel’s hand slips out of Emilie’s. He steps forward, raising that same hand — to do what, he does not know. He will never find out. Because before he can do anything, Adrien is there. Anticipating his reaction. Catching him, stopping him. Fingers wrapping around his forearm. Experienced with pain as he is, Gabriel flinches away. 

Silence.

His outburst has not gone unnoticed, captured by no less than fifty cameras. There is no escape. Not in the last world and not in this one. Monarch. He thought he’d left the crown behind, that he would be the only one who knew that name. It would fade away to time, as would his actions — though his rule would remain, always and forever. 

“Forgive us,” Emilie says with a smile, because things have flipped now and it’s her saving him. Adrien saving him. Everyone coming to Gabriel’s rescue. “We’ve, well, we’ve had our hands full lately, in more ways than one. Learning to be a family again doesn’t leave much time for following the news.”

“Oh, of course!” the man replies. “Mme. Graham de Vanily, if you knew what France has been like in the last year, you would hardly believe it. Magic, superheroes, it’s all so—“

“Her name,” Gabriel grits out, “is Agreste.”

“—and remarkable, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s another result of Chat Noir’s victory. Monarch has been defeated and here you are, healed!”

Adrien makes a strangled sound, as though it’s him that’s struggling to breathe right now and not Gabriel. “Whose victory?”

[grabby-smitten]

Royal!AU | A Queen who has a harem in her palace and they all do whatever it takes to earn your favor and become the royal consort, not just a concubine.

This is the only way my lads Reverse harem would work. According to me. Anyway… Concubines don’t have to get along and it would be so funny to see the “concubines” interact in their separate inner palace.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[fictionadventurer]

August: Day 17

Adventures

Recruited into apple-picking. Gathered some good apples, and more bad apples.

Accomplishments

Read The Book of Joyous Children by James Whitcomb Riley

Figured out the sequence of events for the first several scenes of the Arateph Rapunzel. Jotted down a basic outline.

[daisydoox0-blog]

I’m combining Saw and Pokémon and since Arven is one of my favorite characters and the fact that he’s a depressed character, I did an outline of him in the Reverse Beartrap. More details and color will be added later.

[willowcrowned]

sartre had it wrong, hell isn't other people. hell is when you need to do a first task so that you can do a second, more pleasurable task but you cannot manage to bully, bribe, or manipulate yourself into doing anything at all. hell.

[dreamin-gacha]

Thinking of completely reworking my gacha world rewrite because the “only talking to separate characters and never again until the end of the chapter” is stupid

[menlove]

I've come to the conclusion that I just enjoy writing fics w other people more than I enjoy writing alone like nothing more artistically motivating than this image

[knotwerk]

holy shit i fucking love editing. (remind me i said that in two weeks.) 

i’m working on the proper hydration series finale aka PH6. i finished writing the first draft on 4/6/24, clocking in at 85k words. and then i sat on it for a few days before rereading it, did an extremely cursory once-over edit, and sent it off to my first reader & og beta @demolitionwoman-blog (CHEERS!!!). she started working on the beta, and by the time she hit chapter 3, she made the observation that the next step in the editing process for this might not be a typical beta read, but a structure/development read, and maybe a reverse outline would be a good next step. 

and i was like, i have never heard of a reverse outline. like, i have never heard of most things, really; i just started writing fiction in fucking august 2022 and am having a FUCKING BALL learning by doing. so i googled reverse outline, read the top three hits lol, and was like OH FUCK YES. 

because i do not Outline-outline when i write. all respect to those who do!!!!!, but i just Can Not. i have tried, and i get both daunted and bored, and that combo is like fucking kryptonite to my brain. for a longer piece (or a piece that doesn’t just burst out of my fingertips in response to a gifset or bts drop or tweet or gc comment 😅), i do make a sort of vibes outline. like, i open a fresh doc and splort down all the themey ideas i’m able to put words to at that point, and i make notes on whatever beats have already formed in my head, but it’s loose and sketchy at best. and then i write and see what happens as the story unfolds, and i go back to that notes doc to sort of talk to myself about it, to update the vibe outline as i get further in my draft, etc. 

but PH6 is the longest & most complex thing i’ve written yet, so by the time i got to the end of the first draft—by the time i’d put the whole story into words—i was like, oh my god, what is this. like, has this done the thing i wanted to do, per my vibe outline, and also, what did it actually do, and is it legible (whatever that means; like far be it from me to tell the reader what they should get out of something, but, generally speaking, is it cohesive.). now that i have told the story, like… what the fuck is the story about please, and does it "work." 

so i “finished” my reverse outline yesterday and omfg it’s helping so much and it’s SO EXCITING!!!! LIKE, THIS IS HELPING ME WRAP MY MIND AROUND THE THING I DID, SO I AM BETTER ABLE TO SEE WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO!!!! AND I CAN WORK WITH THAT!!!!!

it’s like i had a bunch of kittens scrambling around in my brain and while i was writing i was like 'oh i love these kittens so much, and i really hope this story herds these kittens effectively so they slow down just enough that people can really see their cute little faces (including me, i am people)' and then i finished the first draft and was like 'ahhh did the story herd the kittens??? i can't tell, they're still moving too fast in my brain' and then the reverse outline showed up and was like I COME BEARING TUNA AND FIFTEEN CARDBOARD BOXES and now i can see the kittens better. 

and then! i slept on it last night, and this morning my brain was like, “oh, here, why don’t i just efficiently articulate the vibes and arrange them in a tidy visual diagram that reveals how they all flow through the story for you?” WHEE!!

and then i got so excited that i had to put it down and write all this instead of working on it further 

(this, which could probably use its own reverse outline lmao)

like, i’m reading Mary Ruefle’s Madness, Rack, and Honey, which is a book of collected lectures that i cannot stop screaming about and that slaps so hard i keep having to throw it across the room, and just the other day i read, in the chapter “On Secrets,” 

I used to think I wrote because there was something I wanted to say. Then I thought, “I will continue to write because I have not yet said what I wanted to say”; but I know now I continue to write because I have not yet heard what I have been listening to.

and i think the reverse outline is helping me hear it a little better, and that is fucking exciting.