#writing technology

[gildedbearediting]

Writing Exercise: Free Write

I’d like to say that today is going to be a difficult writing exercise, but this one will be a “do what you will day”. Get loosey goosey with it, and have fun with it. What’s today’s exercise? Find a prompt and write for 30 minutes to an hour. For those who aren’t familiar with prompt generators, or where to find prompts, I’d like to offer up a few below. ServiceScape has over 1000 story…

[spark-hearts2]

I'll have you know that I HAVE put my arm deep in a computer before! .....And then I had to get a new one because...well, because I had put my arm through it.

But nah, you were right in your comment on Winter Wonderland, I don't know much about computers lol

I only address Caine's technical side when I need to. Luckily the series is about Caine's emotions and bonds instead of his technological workings.

But I am very aware that the technical and computery parts of Caine's character in my stories are complete nonsense, and I apologize for that 😅

HAHA REALLY?! I did the same thing! Opened up a laptop to fix the charging port only to shred the grounding wire for the case. The little sucker knew it had been opened and refused to boot, had to pay to get it fixed. That's just the unfortunate truth about (most) tech these days, it's not built to be opened up and poked at.

Aww, don't apologize for skimming over the tech stuff. Sorry if my comment on Winter Wonderland came over as harsh, I didn't mean it like that. Technology, especially game design, is my very special interest, so I care a little (way) to much when it gets interpreted wrong. Though, the tech stuff in your fics is less wrong and more like I can tell you are getting your understanding of software from Minecraft. Redstone really did a lot for the world, huh.

I 100% understand not wanting to spend hours researching all the little details that go into computers. Modern videogames truly are a rats nest of different technologies. Trying to find an accurate reason for Caine to have memory issues and need for sleep would stuck, especially when the why doesn't matter.

I can tell that you are playing to your strengths, and those strengths are clearly interpersonal relationship drama. All of your fics are very good (uuoogh chapter 3 of Winter Wonderland was so goooood) and the posts hinting about the plot for Hollow Words are very concerning. I am so excited for the future!

[sjstone-author]

Absolutely. And this tidbit, if you will to do with your own writing flow and rhythm. Your writing needs to flow, but so do you as the writer. If you have one, it's more likely you'll have the other IMHO.

Authors are constantly told to read back their work out loud, primarily when editing, which I wholeheartedly agree with. The point here, however, is to catch typos and mistakes, not so much rhythm or flow. Still, it's doable. The problem is that you can still miss things if you aren't deliberate and focused. And it's boring.

Try something else that will solve both issues -- a) it will help you with writing flow because you'll literally hear the words you've written and b) you will also hear all the errors you've made.

Use a text-to-speech app like Speechify, which is a Google Extension (and you can use it on your phone). I'm sure there are some others out there, like ElevenLabs, which I also use (but not for this purpose).

The point being, and I've just developed this technique, and I absolutely love it, is that you can write a few paragraphs, and instead of reading back through for flow, you can let an AI voice read it back to you. And not some shitty, robot voice either. You can pick a voice that you think is a great narrator voice, or a voice that you think could sound like your character.

I do this all the time now.

I write out a few paragraphs, maybe even a page, and then I let a Speechify voice I chose read it back to me. I can do a wee bit of editing in the moment when I catch a typo, and I can feel the rhythm and flow of the words, which helps me go on writing.

Write. Listen and read. Edit a bit. Write some more. Listen and read some more. Edit a bit more. Rinse. Repeat.

This is without a doubt my go-to forever method now, and I've written so much in the last month since I've been doing this.

Speechify is free, but you won't get much mileage out of it for free. So, you'll need to spend a few dollars -- a little over $100, if I recall, for an annual subscription, but you never run out of voice assistance, and there are not only a bunch of English voices, there are voices that speak over a dozen other languages.

And you can even have President Obama or Snoop Dogg read your writing back to you. It's fantastic. Try it if you want.

Tips: Writing Flow

Good writing flow makes for an effortless reading experience and is essential to the quality of academic and creative writing. The best writers pay close attention to flow throughout their writing process.

Writing flow - the pace, cadence, or rhythm of a piece of writing.

Good writing flow allows a reader to ease into the text without expending much mental energy—it has a natural feel that makes reading a breeze.

Texts without good flow feel choppy and lack cohesion.

The best way to establish good writing flow is to focus on word choice, varied sentence structure, and ensure solid coherence between your main points.

Good writing flow results from care and attention at both the sentence and paragraph levels. Consider these tips to improve the flow of a piece of writing:

Ensure that paragraphs have a clear organizational structure. Solid paragraph structure is crucial in academic writing. The first sentence of every body paragraph should begin with a topic sentence that tells the reader the paragraph's main point. Specific examples should then support the topic sentence. If necessary, end the paragraph with a transition sentence leading to the proceeding paragraph.

Link sentences with pronouns. Clear pronoun references can create cohesion in your writing. Pronouns like “he,” “she,” “it,” and “they” refer to previously mentioned nouns (aka antecedents). For example, “The writing center provides helpful tools for first-time writers. It can also help experienced writers overcome writer’s block.” In this case, the pronoun “it” helps these two sentences flow together.

Use transition words. Transition words—known as “signposts”—create a coherent train of thought by signaling to the reader that the next sentence is in some way related to the previous sentence. Some common signposts include “for example,“ “furthermore,” “therefore,” “however,” and “as a result.” Make sure that not every sentence begins with the same transition word. For example, if you start one sentence with “therefore,” use another word when starting the following sentences.

Use varied sentence lengths. A combination of short and long sentences gives a piece of writing rhythm. In fiction writing, short sentences create forward movement. In academic writing, varied sentence lengths improve the flow of information by making the text easy to digest.

Use varied sentence structures. Break up the monotony of a text by using different types of sentence structures. Good sentence flow makes use of simple, compound, and complex sentences. Simple sentences have a single independent clause: “I chopped the carrots.“ Compound sentences have two or more independent clauses: “I chopped the carrots, and Karen peeled the potatoes.“ Complex sentence structures have a single independent clause and one or more dependent clauses: “I added the vegetables to the pot after the water came to a boil.”

Source ⚜ Pacing ⚜ Avoiding Word Repetition ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[nyancrimew]

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[talos-stims]

the computer blade | source

[penig]

Google docs is not a word processor and Word is a crappy one that wants you to do everything its way, rather than your way. As a touch typist, I use Word Perfect by preference; all indications are that it was developed by and for touch typists and has never abandoned that demographic. Also, I can look at the damn code and see where I accidentally inserted the invisible box that's messing everything up and delete it with a single stroke, then hide the codes again, with no argument from the program. I'm sure there's other programs that would also suit me, but I've been using Word Perfect for most of my adult life and see no reason to change now. Its document statistics also serve my particular needs very well - I don't know any other program that tells you what your longest sentence is, and I really need to know so I can hunt it down and split it up.

Anyway, copy/paste works across most platforms. For AO3 specifically I open the New Work, change the format to RTF, copy/paste into it, and then do my final final revision while going through and putting in minimal formatting, mostly italicizing things. I can work in html if I have to, but it clutters things up so and detracts from the words, makes my mistakes harder to spot. Other platforms involve similar procedures, adapted to the mechanics of the platform.

Longhand drafting also happens, but that's primarily for noodling around while I'm trying to work things out. Composing directly is so much more efficient than transcribing, and doesn't require that I puzzle out my own handwriting.

Reblog for sample size!

[loserlvrss]

𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ⟡ Mark Lee

( 六月 ). ─────you got my heartbeat to play to your time.

one thing about your boyfriend is that he would always take care of you 🫐📨 엔시티이민��� &fem!rea. ｡ ｡warn. ment. of being drunk, kiss 1THOU one shot, fluff, 𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶.

노트 my bf btw click4more

It’s a good thing the elevator in your apartment hadn’t gone out yet, otherwise the man on your arm would’ve been upset—though he’d never let you know that.

He just loved you too much for that. And, you kept telling him about how much of a good night it was for you. Seeing old friends and getting drinks. He’d never dream of ruining that.

“Baby,” He stated quietly, pulling your arm around his waist higher, as it kept slipping. “Hold on, just a little longer…why’d you have to live on the 10th floor? Thank God the elevator isn’t out. Is the view really worth it though?” He watched the numbers climb, illuminated electronically above the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and though you were hunched against him, you willed your head up.

Deadpanning, you replied, “duh.” To which he just laughed at, “You just don’t get it, Mark! Have you seen it? It’s beautiful! Not more than you but, you know.”

“Many times—actually, I helped you move in, baby.”

You giggled, head falling into his side, “Y-yeah, you did…do you remember haechan falling up the stairs? He wasn’t even carrying anything heavy! Oh my god, it was so funny, I swear I peed my pants!”

Mark thought that, for a drunk girl, you were very good at not sounding slurred with your words. However, standing or walking in a straight line were two very different tasks for you to accomplish in this state. But, he thought it was cute that you thought of him to pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He loved that you loved him so much; shared so many memories with him and were still willing to make them.

And truthfully, he loved you more.

The elevator dinged, the voice telling you that the doors were now opening. Mark braced his arm around you tighter, hiking you up to be, at least a little, straighter.

You trudged along, holding back his attempts to keep a steady pace. You knew it was difficult to move on your own accord in your current state but, honestly you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor if you fell.

“Work—with—me—here, y/n. Please,” He gritted, practically dragging your giggling figure, “Do you even want to sleep in your own bed?”

Your eyes narrowed soberly, “Are you staying?”

“Will that make you walk faster?”

As if possessed, the thought alone was enough to make you straighten your back and begin willing your legs to move—clumsily, of course, but you knew your boyfriend was still a crutch to make sure you didn’t hit the floor.

He laughed in disbelief, then relief once you two finally had made it to your numbered door. Mark put in the passcode and it chimed with satisfaction.

“You scare me sometimes, baby.”

You hopped in place, the door swinging open with the length of his arm. You slumped against the wall, unhooking the strap of your heels and kicking them off.

“Let’s go to bed!” And when you were about take off down the hall, a hand grabbed yours and stopped you—your feet comically still stomping in place. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.

“First,” he started, leading you down the hall; for a moment you thought he just didn’t want you to run but, he turned off into your bathroom. Mark hit the switch and illuminated the room, your eyes shutting instinctively. “Your makeup.”

As if it was a daunting statement, you whined, trying to get out of his grip. “No.”

“You’ll kill me in the morning, babe,” He grabbed your waist, hoisting you onto the counter and trapping you with his body, “It won’t take long.”

Your pinky swung from the porcelain and into his view, “Promise.” You weren’t asking, and that made him laugh.

His pinky connected with yours, “Promise.” He replied adamantly, mimicking your movement and kissing the end of his balled fist.

He got to work, grabbing the remover and a couple cotton rounds. He gently swiped your skin, and you swear your head kept drifting to the side with tiredness. You couldn’t help that your boyfriend was the sole reason you could get a good-nights sleep.

Instead of trying to keep you up, he grabbed it, huffing out another laugh at your antics but, letting you fully fall asleep in his hand.

Mark admired you as he tried his best to get the mascara off, smudging it and making you look a little foolish. He thought you were cute; the way your lips were parted, small snores leaving them. The slight crease of your brows as he put your moisturizer and serums on. He swears he could feel his heart swell, knowing you were just that comfortable around him—so adamant to have him by your side—to have him love you.

And, he did.

He loved you so fucking much. His future was you. If he was your world, you were his sun. You were his lifeline. You were the one person he knew he could rely on without contest. If he was a producer, you were his muse. Everything revolved around you. Even if his thoughts weren’t originally for you, they’d eventually make their way back to you. He was excited to talk to you about anything and everything. He was blindsided by a love as strong as this mutual one.

He’d die for you, and that’s why he lives.

Honestly, he was so embarrassingly emotional right now for you, he could practically feel the tears welling up.

Mark swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbing the other side of your head and watching as you blinked yourself conscious.

You smiled sleepily, “When’d you get here, baby?”

He could feel your arms climb to be around his neck, pulling him and simultaneously pushing yourself to get body-to-body. You always craved the warmth (even subconscious) like you were cold-blooded.

“I’m always here.” He kissed the side of your mouth, whispering against your lips, “Now, let’s go to bed?”

© loserlvrss 2024 / 25. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. reblogs & feedback appreciated networks : @kstrucknet @neocity-net

[glittertomb]

I miss the world being tactile. I miss pushing buttons. I miss switching over to your favorite radio station in the car without having to look, I miss punching in a customer’s phone number without having to look, I miss sending a sneaky text without having to look, I miss turning on my morning alarms without having to look… I miss pressing physical buttons for cash amounts and knowing that you did it correctly because you felt the correct release under your fingertips. I miss the satisfying clinks of my grandmother's 80's typewriter. I miss the crunching of gear mechanisms beneath the pads of my flesh. I miss the tick-tick-tick sensation. I don't want to touch and retouch a surface covered with the visible smears of thousands of fingerprints. I don't want to talk to my T.V. remote. I don't want a keypad to rise up as a smooth, steely reminder that our tools are losing the human feeling of texture, grit, and raw material. If I have to touch another screen I might die.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 3/?

_______________________________

Jazz was vaguely aware that Blaster was studying his reaction – or waiting to see if he would give into impulse. But Jazz's excitement had crashed to a puddle of nerves, a bunch of unidentifiable nerves, and he felt anchored to the spot. "Did you find out anything new about – him?" He asked, unsure of… far too much. "Like is there anything I should know?"

"The whole team still has a lot to discuss about," Blaster hesitated, his tone twisting into distaste just before the pause. Yet, relented to whatever it was that was bothering him and continued calmly, "about… him. There isn't anything I have to share, sorry."

He knew the apology was insincere, a show, just another part of the performance. They were friendly, but not friends.

Blaster had always been the one that told him more about what was going on around them than most ever had his whole life. He actively tries to get closer to him more than any past caretaker has and listens to Jazz. A flaw rather than a improvement for their first few years together as Jazz was prone to lying. Still was, but he do so less often and was more withholding the truth with Blaster. But Jazz couldn't quite bring himself to honestly trust him. He did, but not really. Because Blaster was still staff.

And the staff were currently hiding something, something they either didn't want Jazz to know or something they thought he wouldn't understand, so it was pointless. Jazz looked up at him with a – fake and flawless from practice – understanding smile, with the next line in the script. "It's okay."

Blaster smiled back, one that was genuine, than asked, "you calmed down enough for a check up? I got to keep an eye on your blood pressure."

Rather than answer with words, Jazz turned away from the gate and headed for the slope on the pier.

—

He spent the next two hours before dinner between quickly checking the clock and floating in front of the gate. The other orca hadn't even moved, and if not for the clear sound of steady breaths, Jazz would have probably started to freaking-out – okay, he was already freaking-out, but it was back on how he was going to talk with the wild mer. Or, heck, where to start on what to say.

The last thing Blaster said; before finally going home after a busy fourteen hour day, was that there was no need to worry if the wild mer slept until tomorrow. His wounds would recover faster if he didn't move, if anything it was a good thing. For now, went unsaid.

Thus, dinner came and went. Still asleep.

Day staff signed off and night staff came by to sneak a peek. He could pickup on them with his sonar coming by the bay window, but each time voiced disappointed that they couldn't see anything due to the hammock's position. Still asleep.

Dusk came and Jazz struggled to stay awake, exhaustion was finally catching up to him. Still asleep.

—

A wobbling keen caused Jazz to flinch and peek one eye open. It was probably the middle of the night with how dark it still was. As he blinked awake and stretched, his tired brain suddenly realized it understood that sound, that word – {where?}

Jazz quickly rolled over and looked towards the wounded mer. Not quite able to see, but was getting enough of an image of movement with his sonar. Combined with the sounds of shifting fabric and soft rattle of metal supports, Jazz could tell he was awake.

A weak questioning call followed along with a faint splash.

Ah, right, uh–! Jazz panicked for a moment, he didn't want him to become frightened and reopen his wounds, or think they were somewhere all alone. Diving down to an old memory and remembering the warmth, Jazz hoped he could convey his words with comfort, {it's okay… you're safe.}

He didn't get a vocal response, but they became still and within a few minutes, Jazz heard the soft steady breaths once more. He had fallen back to sleep and Jazz couldn't help but smile a little. It wasn't long before he also drifted back off as well.

—

Prowl groaned as he moved, he ached all over, but was given some pretty nasty tugs of sharp pain to remind him of just how bad it was. As he opened his eyes, though still groggy, he took a quick note of the situation as he looked about.

The space. Dim lighting, white walls, an air pocket room with a shallow pool, two doors; one in the water, one on an above-surface area – unusual. Sonar was giving almost unreadable imaging and with a limited range due to other sources of interference – there was a lot of noise to sort out. But he was getting what looked like corridors on one side, large open space on the other. Overall, a simple structure.

His position. A hammock – a bit too snug, unable to rollover, but acceptable comfort.

Injuries. Multiple points of laceration on his arms, flank and tail; claws from other merfolk. Deep punctures along his left side; teeth of a leviathan. Of both arms, the left has more damage and is pinned in a solid net-like cast; potential fracture. Cuts are held shut by a bright coloured, mesh-like covering that clings tightly to his skin by an adhesive, rough to the touch, but not uncomfortable or irritating – likely breathable to reduce infection during the healing process.

Additionally, he noticed in his inspection that his claws had been filed down to his fingers. Irritating, but not unexpected given the extreme caution most give to someone like himself. But in all, this was not first-aid, the treatment is professional.

Conclusion: local clinic.

Prowl gave a breath of relief and relaxed. Someone must have found him adrift after the skirmish and rushed him to a near by town or village. As everything was far to modest to be a big city hospital.

Suddenly, he sensed movement that went over him swiftly and looked up. But whatever it was was gone. Prowl was only picking up empty space above the light-blue ceiling. Then another zipped by. A bird?

Prowl felt everything slow to a stop as cold dread sunk into his bones. That wasn't a ceiling.

That was the morning sky.

_______________________________

I hope I have the right understanding of how advanced the merfolks civilization is... otherwise this is really awkward. >_>; I also wanted to give Jazz at least one human that is trying to make things better for him and be on his side (he's secretly providing inside information to mer activists and trustworthy researchers). Blaster worked hard to gain the position he has to be Jazz's lead caretaker, but fighting the system and working with in it (or risk being replaced by a yes-man) is a frustrating balancing game.

Sorry this one is so short. The next part is going to be really long as Prowl and Jazz get finally meet! I hope it is worth the wait. QuQ

Thank you for the hug, I return the hug!♡♡♡

-GLC

Oohoh my god oh my

The waitinggggggggggggg. Jazz is slowly going insane and so am I *dies*

Upd: I linked all the parts written by GLC together>:D

Link to the previous part

Next

Also the fact that Blaster is actually gives the information away to those activists??? MUAH. SO GREAT. This would also be a pretty solid reason for why Jazz and Prowl wouldn't get separated after the uh. Haha. The violent incident. Imagine if Blaster immediately got the security tapes and uploaded them somewhere? Kinda like it was with Black fish documentary uncovering the murders done by captive orcas?

Point is. People would see that "oh no those two poor mers defend each other so much they turn violent when separated" and pressure the Aquarium to keep them together. Maybe I sound stupid here but it does make sense in my head. It's really nice for Jazz to have someone on his side is what I'm saying. I love that:>

Separately. The tiny interaction they have is so soft and gentle I'm gonna melt. The little {you're safe}?? AUGH

I can't wait for them to interact IM DOING THE JAZZ ARC IN REAL TIME BASICALLY JUST FREAKING OUT OVER THE FUTURE COVERSATION AHAHDKMGMHMFNFMGMF

Also

Prowl: That's a weird looking underwater facility....

A bird: flies

Prowl:

[gildedbearediting]

Writing Exercise: Simple Poetry Structure

Start with the following couplet: “My sister and I were never friends But that is not how the story ends.” Then write 5-10 couplets. Get as wild as you want with it, but remember that couplets pair lines with rhythmic or rhyming patterns. They usually complete a single thought or idea. So try rhyming the friends/ends with things…

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

just picturing ax pointing at the death note anime/manga/whatever adaptation going "YOU SEE! BOOKS ARE THE SUPERIOR TECHNOLOGY! WHY ELSE WOULD THE SHINIGAMI HAVE NOTEBOOKS AND NOT COMPUTERS!" 😂

Exactly!

Books also:

Can't be hacked

Can only be "deleted" with fire or lots of other physical effort

Don't contain ads

Involve permanent ownership

Aren't under corporate control

Are a permanent record that can't be edited without it being obvious that that happened

Retain all their value after several reads and several owners

Get exchanged freely between strangers

Have everything that NFTers act like they invented

Like, K.A. Applegate was onto something. Books really are the superior technology, especially when compared to an enshittified internet.

[seraphinitegames]

Feel free to ignore this if it has been asked before.

I think N dislike for modern technology is pretty much common knowledge by now, and A isn't much better, BUT! why is M not sharing there views? It's mentioned that they are over 100 years but they easily embrace the modern world and never complain about it (unless it's the weather or people).

M is very good at adapting. It's definitely one of their major strengths! M just takes things as they come.

A and N are less able to do this, especially N!

F is the kind of person who sees something once and just gets it, so they're also just able to go with the flow. Especially as they love learning new things anyway!

Thank you so much for the ask! :)

[enneadau]

EMERGENCY AUTHOR UPDATE

I feel like this needs to be warned about. Everything on Ao3 that isn't set to private, HAS been data scraped and fed to 3 data sites that provide data for AI training, including writing and artwork.

Yes, this includes my entire Ennead series and everything else I've ever written and posted. As well as anything you all have written but not made private.

Ao3's legal team is fighting it and one site has made the data unavailable, but the other two aren't based in the USA so the fight is harder.

This is frustrating and upsetting news, especially for those of us who now need to pick between our Guest readers who have supported us for a long time and protecting the hard work that we've put our hearts and souls into and I just ask that we support each other and our choices during this time.

The link here has more details but from now on, until I can be sure there's a way to protect my work, which I've spent decades writing and planning, my stories will be posted for members of the site only.

[starry-songs-canvas]

Red Robin and the Undead Earpiece.

Back again with another prompt! Although, I might start branching out to a couple of different fandoms in the future, idk.

Tim, when he was going on his Lazarus pit destruction crusade, accidentally drops his comm link in said pit. He was able to fish it out, and aside from the slight glowing, still works fine. Yay for durability!

Things are normal, and apparently Lazarus water encrypts his comm, who knew. But then he starts hearing teenagers voices over it, going on about ghosts, avoiding the government, and even their parents hunting them down.

Unfortunately, the Lazarus waters encryption work both ways, so Tim is having difficulty pinning down where the signal is coming from. At least he can give a few friendly tips to these young heroes.

Tl:dr, Tim drops his earpiece into Lazarus waters and can now hear everything team phantom is saying over the radio.

[life-spire]