violetliddell

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Lisa Moore, “Snow Squalls in May”

[violetliddell]

I won a writing competition!!!

You can read my drabble (fiction of exactly 100 words) on the Rune Bear website here.

The theme was 'patch notes version 2.0' so I went for a transhumanism angle.

Would highly recommend submitting to Rune Bear, they are lovely :)

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andrei tarkovsky

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there is a tendency with history, i think, because we’re so far removed from it, to kind of forget that all of the people were people

a child 10,000 years ago left a handprint on a wall. they were fingerpainting. a viking climbs up a rock just to carve the words “this is very high” 10ft off the ground. somebody centuries… milennia… ago burned their dinner so thoroughly that they buried the ruined pot in the backyard rather than attempt to clean it. shakespeare got drunk and wrote dick jokes. tutankhamun was a little boy who liked ducks more than anything. a roman carves his name into a monument in another country saying “i was here”. a prisoner, centuries ago, in the tower of london scratches lines into the wall as a tally marking the days. a medieval monk scrawls in the margins bemoaning the boredom of his work.

every human being across history has said “i was here. i lived. i loved. i made something. i laughed. i cried. please do not forget me”

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Owlfolk wizard getting his cast on.

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the statues of apollo and athena, at the academy athens, in a full moon night.

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It’s MerMay again ^_^

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There are hardly any female werewolves because they break all the classic rules of femininity. They force you to confront female violence, strength, size, grotesqueness and uncontrollability. Historically female shapeshifters always shift into something dangerous (snake) or sleek (cat) or dainty (bird) but female werewolves ignore the masculine gaze completely. They’re distorted beasts that have no ulterior motive except to destroy. Nothing about them is nurturing or modest. They’re the opposite of what a woman “should be.” Their omission from pop culture is not an accident.

[violetliddell]

Don’t let them bury me as someone I’m not.

[violetliddell]

Save money when self-publishing

Although self-publishing could technically be free, it will cost money to put a quality product out there. So, this list isn't going to tell you to forego an editor or anything like that. Instead, here are some tips for saving money while still publishing a high quality book.

1. Pre-made cover

Unless you are a graphic designer with experience in book covers, you shouldn't design your book cover yourself.

But, it can be VERY expensive to have a custom cover designed.

So, look through pre-made covers and purchase one that makes sense for your book. This won't always be possible, but it's worth trying.

Most covers are available for e-book, and designers are often open to creating a full spread for print for a small added fee.

thebookcoverdesigner.com is my favorite site for pre-made covers.

2. Learn to format

You can pay someone to do the interior formatting for your novel, but that's really expensive.

So, learn to do the formatting yourself.

For Mac users, Vellum is a great and easy tool.

For those of you with PCs, like me, you'll have to learn some more skills.

For epub and mobi, I love Reedsy. The free online software is easy to use. However, you can't use different fonts, which is a bit of a bummer.

For print books, you can actually do high-quality formatting on MS Word. It can take long and be frustrating, but I find it quite fun.

3. Use beta readers and critique partners

Okay, so I may be telling you to forego one type of edit: developmental.

This won't work for everyone. If your book has major plot problems or character development issues, you will need a developmental edit before publication.

But, it's always worth getting beta readers and critique partners first. They read your book and give feedback FOR FREE. And they focus on the story in the same way a developmental editor does.

This can be a great way to assess your plot and characters without paying for an editor.

If, during the process, you receive a lot of negative feedback and you're struggling to fix it on your own, you'll probably need a developmental editor.

But if you use multiple rounds of beta readers and critique partners and the feedback improves, and you fix the problems yourself, you don't, in my opinion, also have to pay for a developmental edit.

4. Don't create an audiobook (at first)

Many self-published authors want to debut with a bang. They want their first book to be available in every possible format.

I agree with this in most respects, but not when it comes to audiobooks.

I think the ROI is actually quite low, especially with Audible screwing over authors with their royalty system.

And it's very expensive to produce a high-quality audiobook - you can't just narrate it yourself.

So, if you publish the book and it does really well and you make enough profit, maybe consider releasing the audiobook a few years later.

5. Use free ISBNs

Each version of your book (ebook, paperback, hardback, audiobook etc.) needs its own unique ISBN.

Depending on the country you live in, you might need to buy ISBNs. Luckily, in South Africa, my country, the National Library issues free ISBNs.

However, Amazon KDP offers free ISBNs for you to use. The only snag is that Amazon will then be listed as the publisher, not you or your publishing company.

If that's something you don't mind, I would recommend using the free ones.

So, those are 5 ways to save money when self-publishing. I hope that this can be useful to you guys.

Reblog if you found these tips helpful. Comment with your own advice. Follow me for similar content.

[violetliddell]

The Fox and the Robin

A short children’s story inspired by Dutch author (and legend) Toon Tellegen. Re-uploaded because I removed it on accident. It reads best if you read it out loud to yourself, with a soft voice, or even better if you read it to someone else you love <3 

Love, Katrielle.

The fox climbed out of her dark burrow into the cold and night and looked upwards.            “Hello stars,” said the fox.            “Hello fox,” said the stars. Under the moonlight, the fox climbed up the hill. A thousand lights smiled upon her. All the animals in the forest had lit their hearths. The fox sighed. It was a beautiful image, but the fox had seen this many times before.

The wind sent a shiver through the fox’ fur.            “Hello wind,” said the fox.            “Hello fox,” said the wind. What would it be like, the fox thought, to be as light as a summer breeze. The wind chuckled.            “I’ll show you, fox.” Carefully the wind embraced the fox and lifted her over the valleys. She looked down to see the forests and rivers fly past beneath her.

A robin descended and drifted next to the fox.            “What are you doing here, so high in the sky?” asked the robin.            “I don’t know,” said the fox. “I’m just floating around.” The robin frowned.            “You’re a very peculiar bird. Where are you going to sleep?” This the fox had not thought about yet.            “Then we will build you a house, here in the sky,” said the robin. The fox let the thought drift around through her mind.            “Isn’t that lonely, a house in the sky?” asked the fox.            “I don’t think so,” said the robin, “You can take a house in the sky wherever you want to go, so your house is actually everywhere.”

The robin went to work. Every bit of wood that was found was lifted into the sky.            “Will you come visit?” asked the fox.            “Of course,” said the robin. “Every morning I will look out of my window, and if I see your house hanging underneath the clouds, I will come visit you right away.”

Slowly, the house began to take shape: A balcony to watch the sunset, a chimney for the cold nights, and a long rope for when the fox wanted to be anchored somewhere. When the house was finished, the fox and the robin sat down on the balcony. In the distance, the fox saw her old burrow.            “I’m going to miss it, I think,” said the fox.            “Yes I understand that,” said the robin. “You can always go back.”            “No that’s okay,” said the fox. “My family can always come visit, but for now I think that I’m going to go wherever the wind will take me. ”

[violetliddell]

(Left to right) 1. Hayao Miyazaki- “Totoro Was Not Made as a Nostalgia Piece”  (1979-1996) // 2. Somali proverb // 3. Over the Garden Wall (2014) // 4. Richard Adams, “…But first they must catch you.” -Watership Down // 5. Chris Maser, Forest Primeval: The Natural History of an Ancient Forest // 6. Cheryl Strayed-Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail // 7. Adrienne Rich- The Dream of a Common Language // 8. Princess Mononoke (1997) // 9. Henry David Thoreau- The Dead Poets society // 10. Angela Carter-The Bloody Chamber // 11. Mushishi (2005)

[violetliddell]

Dwarf ladies!

[violetliddell]

hi i’m here to talk about characters with aches

aches from old injuries. finicky battle wounds, stiff joints from being restrained in captivity - things that their body never erased, pain that reminds them every day of what they went through. maybe it’s obvious, like a limp, or maybe it’s something that is only clear with early morning stretches and groans. maybe the aches grow worse in rainy weather, or when they think about the injury that caused the soreness.

a character who has to live with aches, and the painful memories behind them.

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ancient gods and goddesses with the blood moon in athens, greece // photographed by aris messinis

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HEROISM

Description: A new hero faces his first assignment. Is he up to the challenge? Genre: Fantasy flash fiction Time to read: 2 minutes.

Image credit: Artur Kerkhoff on Unsplash - The knights cheered, slapping the young hero on the back and pushing drinks into his hands. Beer spilt on his shirt.

“A baptism of blood and beer!” roared one burly knight. “Nothing finer!”

Loud laughter rang through the tavern, packed with knights celebrating the young hero’s victory. He felt dizzy with the heat and intensity of the attention—this was worse than slaying the dragon. That had been a terrifying trial, yes, but ultimately a matter of training and instinct.

When he met the fearsome dragon in its dingy cave, red scales undulating like a heat mirage, he stopped thinking and acted. The bones of fallen beasts and men shattered underfoot in the chaos of their fight. The young hero had slashed and dived, plunging his heavy blade through the dragon’s burning snout. The echoing roars of the creature were like the bellows of the knights in the tavern; a language he couldn’t understand. But he had done his duty and passed the trial. He had stood, his armour slick with hot, black blood, as the creature wailed mournfully, its last breaths escaping in pitiful billows of steam.

The hero looked up across the tavern, as though he could replace the image of the dying dragon with something alive. His gaze met with an older woman sitting alone in the far corner. Her keen eyes appraised him. From her sour expression, she did not approve.

“Don’t mind her,” muttered one of the knights. “Bleeding heart, that one.”

“Used to be a fine warrior, though,” sighed another, taking a large gulp of beer.

“One of the finest,” agreed the first, “but she went all soft. Runs some sort of farm or something now, rescues beasts. Keeps them like pets!”

The knights shared a chuckle of ridicule and dismay. The woman across the tavern leaned back in her chair, her eyes sliding to the tavern doors.

They opened abruptly. A tall figure cloaked in a great black shawl stood at the threshold. A hush fell over the tavern. The newcomer had a steel basket on their arm, and they carried it with care as they strode towards the young hero.

“A mage,” muttered one of the knights. “Must be for you, lad.”

The young hero swallowed. He had not expected his first official quest to come so soon after the trial. The mage approached the hero’s table, gently placing the steel basket in front of him.

“Your quest,” the mage intoned.

The murmurs of speculation rose behind the hero, as he warily lifted the lid of the steel basket.

The knights began to chortle, teasing the hero or cursing the mage, but the young hero simply stared at the small creature inside. Its scales shimmered in the tavern torchlight, and its wide, yellow eyes fixed upon the hero.

“What a joke!” one of the knights snorted.

“You should kill it now,” another suggested.

The young hero poked a finger tentatively toward the newborn dragon. It sniffed him, before giving a quick, nervous lick. The hero’s heart softened. Perhaps this quest would be better than the trial.

Across the tavern, the older woman smiled, reaching into her pocket to tickle the chin of her own, tiny dragon.