#writing session

[jt1674]

[voxina]

[candiedspit]

Quick write of the day: Cut my hand on the oath. Oats and cream. I heard it once, I said. I was biting my fingernails. On the television, I continued. You were dicing cherry tomatoes in the sunny kitchen. We met on the cyclone, you said. Mid-air. You were like a banshee of light. A wedding aria. All jumpy vowels and proper nouns. Wrapped in baby tees and mary Janes.

[museaway]

final day of the writing retreat!! it has been a really nice weekend, and while I didn't write as much as I have in the past, I have the bulk of two short pieces written & feel relaxed. working on the last scene of a daster fic for Aster's birthday week

[filmcourage]

A Man Tries To Write A Story For The First Time In 15 Years (Writing Session | Write With Me)

Watch the video interview on YouTube here.

[roseberryk]

wip update

Title: Caroline and The Seven Cities; Main Characters: Caroline Chandler, Jamie Hendrix, Mikael Beam, Ezra Hart and Meraki; Current word count: 23 374 (eight chapters) 

A quote from my wip:

“Don’t let the world you see through your innocent eyes deceive you. It is harsh out there. Don’t be afraid. Keep moving forward. After all... we are history.”

[silviathebard]

Hope this writing session goes well🤞

[robyn-weightman]

New video

Let's have a Sunday Writing Session

[candiedspit]

Morning writing practice: I gave Molly all of my peach rings. I didn’t have much else to give. A broken body. Shredded poppies. The talk shows, a couple notches in my belt. Christ in our morning eggs. A kiss planted on her collarbone. Instant coffee. I wanted to give her what I assumed she wanted. Lingerie. Orange slices powdered with sugar. Porcelain bowls filled with colored candies. A stretch limousine for a ride through the woods. I want leadbelly on the stereo, she said once. It was a mild afternoon. She ran through the house in her panties. And I want ten more seconds. A faucet to pucker my mouth beneath. Snow in August.

[museaway]

The biting insects were attacking me, but there is a steady breeze so I was able to turn off the air conditioning and open the windows. It's kind of like being outside. Writing by hand with some wine. My goal is to complete a short fill so that I can refocus on longer works tomorrow.

[cdknight-writer]

Was up till 3am last night getting chapter five finished.. I’m so glad to be back writing again.

Late night writing sessions can be extremely relaxing!!

I have my music playing and not a single person awake to disturb me!!

Just my kitten cuddles up next to me purring away, my laptop on my knees as I type away!

[vvanillavveins]

I don't think we give Jonathan Harker nearly enough credit for his absolutely unhinged choices. In 1897, that pathetic wet cat of a man was written with enough grit, willpower, and raw human stupidity to rival any of our modern horror podcast protagonists. When faced with a centuries-old vampire, in a coffin, drenched in fresh blood, he really thought the best thing to do was to hit it in the face WITH A SHOVEL. The audacity. The misplaced confidence. The sheer desperation. No plan. No hesitation. Running on fear and spite alone. And i fucking love him for it. Truly the character of all time.

[ari-writes-things]

writing session (9/4)

been a while since I've posted one of these, but I finished a chapter today! I spent a lot of the time editing, but I still got some actual writing done, which is a win in my book.

time: 1 hour and 9 minutes

word count: 521

We gaze silently out at the mountains as the sun disappears into the trees. There’s an ocean behind them. When we were really little, El used to stay up at night, worrying that the sun would drown and never come up again. I used to wake up at dawn every morning, just in case I needed to light it back up.

I find her hand with mine as the sky fades into magnetic purple and twilight blue. I wonder if she knows I would still light the sun for her.

[babythegod]

[nauddynaddy]

My Eyes Are a Goner- Poem

Bloodstorm in my eyes

Blessing in disguise

To feel pain, and to not see clearly anymore

When my eyes were true to me

They still existed to mislead n deceive

To dream and scheme of happier realities

To dress my pain and trauma in satin sheets

Today, as I lay within my sheets wit bloodshot eyes

I can feel the pain envelope me

Fore I've never used my hands before cuz I've always had my eyes

To rely on feeling is a new experience, and I'm weary of accepting it as my truth

[robyn-weightman]

Its time for a Sunday writing session.

This time with an adorable writing buddy 📚🐶