wrayghtings

[wrayghtings]

The Sun and Anywhere

I'm not anywhere.

At least, nowhere I know. 

I'm driving on the road, 

Somewhere between where I'm going

And where I'm coming from.

The road stretches seemingly endlessly,

And I'm following, balanced between the yellow and white lines on the black cement. 

Trees follow.

Fields pass.

Potholes jostle the car, and the radio static crackles through the speakers. 

The only thing guiding me is the GPS and it suggests different routes once and awhile. 

One six minutes faster. 

Another with a gas and go. 

But following the guide, seeing the blue line urging me to keep slightly left, the GPS glitches. 

I did as it told,

Staying on the path,

But somehow this road loses connection with the satellite. 

At first, I'm scared.

Nervous I missed something and now I'm really lost in between where I'm going and where I'm coming from. 

But looking at the devices, I see the blue line off to the left. 

I'm still going in the right direction,

Just a little off course.

I feel a bit of relief and know eventually, I'll hear that rerouting noise and I'll be back on track. 

So onward I go. 

And I look up. 

I'd been focused on the yellow and white lines, 

But now I see the blue sky. 

Clouds are scattered across the wide expanse,

And they've broken

Allowing the sun's rays to fall to the ground and kiss the earth. 

And it hits me. 

I'm not anywhere I know, 

Just somewhere between where I'm going and where I'm coming from.

But where I've come from,

There was sun.

Here, in this anywhere, there is sun.

And I'm sure where I'm going, the sun will be there too.

To welcome me. 

Even when night falls

The moon will come out, 

And the only reason it shines will be because the sun is reflecting off its surface.

Reminding us the sun is still there,

Even when we can't see it. 

It's there for another. 

Breaking between clouds on their anywhere moment between where they have come from and where they're heading. 

I smile,

Hear the GPS reroute,

And focus back on the road. 

I'm anywhere. 

But myself and the sun are there. 

And the sun will be there too when I get to where I'm going.

.x.

Chapter 10 of “A Collection of Fallen Thoughts” The link below is to my fictionpress account where you can find more content of my writings. Feel free to pop in and say hi :)

t: https://www.fictionpress.com/u/1095905/ 

[wrayghtings]

Today’s comic is about the struggle that is mental health. It’s a daily struggle, but never forget that you aren’t alone and there are better things ahead.

Help make these comics possible and get all kinds of cool rewards by pledging just $1/month on patreon!

[wrayghtings]

Opening up your WIP like

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what are we???? WRITERS!!!!!! what are we gonna do???? WRITE!!!!!!!!!! when are we gonna do it???????? //distant sobbing

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seeking writeblrs!

Hello!

I'm a new writeblr and need to follow more writeblrs to spice up my dash!

Reblog if you do the following:

Original writings

WIPs

Spilled ink / ideas

Excerpts / Drabbles

Headcanons / Tropes

Writing pompts and inspo

Ask memes / Character memes

Book reviews

Text aesthetics

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The tragedy isn’t us. The tragedy is what we wanted to be. You want to lock lips with other people and be carefree and I wanted to be untouchable like the sky with you. I was always told how you shouldn’t think everything in your life is everlasting, but this is the mistake I wrapped myself in when I imagined a future with you. There are moments I dream of running back into the past, and erasing the instance when our lives decided to melt together. I think about our first kiss and my heart sinks deeper into my memories with you. I think about our first walk around my neighborhood and how your hands felt like I was grabbing snow. Honestly the tragedy isn’t us or what we wanted to be. You never wanted to be anything with me. The tragedy is what I wanted us to be.

— Alexa Evangelista, The Book I’ll Never Finish Writing

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@ other writers: how the hell do you write short things????

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How to Use Tags Effectively in the Writeblr Community

[This is an expanded version of the “Using tags effectively” section on my How to gain attention in the Writeblr Community guide here. Please check that out as well!]

This is a question I get often, and it’s really difficult to figure out how this works on your own, so here’s a handy little guide!

So in order to figure out how to use tags, we have to know how tagging works on Tumblr.

How tags work on Tumblr

Only the first five tags will show up in tracked tags. (i.e., if you tag your post #writeblr, and I’m following the tag #writeblr, it might pop up on my dashboard even if I’m not following you.)

Only the first twenty tags will show up in tumblr search.

Reblogs will not show up in tracked tags or search.

Hyphens (-) won’t show up in tracked tags.

That’s a lot to remember, are you still with me? The most important thing to remember about tagging your work is that the first five tags are the most important. You want to use your biggest, most relevant tags in the first five.

What tags you should use

So you know that the first five are most important, but what tags should you use? What tags are the best?

Here’s what I usually use and though I don’t know if they’re particularly popular or not, but they’ve worked for me just fine.

Tags to use for any writing-related post

#Writeblr and #writing for any writing-related post that you make. These two are the most important tags. I also sometimes include #writblr because some people use that tag instead.

If you have spare room in your first five tags, because you don’t have anything else to tag it with, try using #writers of tumblr, #writeblr community and #writers to maximize your tagging potential. These should only be used in your first five if you have extra space!

Tags to use for your original writing

#creative writing, #amwriting, #original writing, are a fantastic place to start.

Remember to tag your genre as well, like #fantasy, #science fiction, #urban fantasy, #young adult, #YA, depending on what you write for.

Tagging your writing type can also be effective, such as #drabble, #flash fiction, #excerpt, etc., if they are relevant.

Tags like #angst, and #fluff are also really popular, so if either of those apply to your writing, try including that!

If you have some additional space, #WIP, #WIPs, #OC, #OCs also will work, depending on what you’re posting about.

Tags to use for writing advice

#writing advice, #writing help, #writing tips are the most commonly used ones.

You can and probably should specify what your writing advice is about like #description, but that can wait for the tags after the first five.

Tags to use for relatable writing content and memes

#just writer things, #writing memes, #writing meme are the biggest ones in Writeblr, I believe.

#writing problems also work depending on what your post is.

Other tags not specific to the writing community like #memes, #relatable also work, for an even broader audience outside of Writeblr.

Tags to use for writing encouragement and positivity

#writing positivity, #writing encouragement are commonly used.

Other tags not specific to the writing community like #positivity and #encouragement also work, for an even broader audience outside of Writeblr.

Which tags you should use

So that’s a lot of potential tags to use, and only the first five will show up in tracked tags! How in the world are you going to prioritize?

Figure out what type of post you’re making, and don’t get greedy! If it’s not a writing meme, don’t tag it as such. The best way to maximize your tag usage is to use a combination of various tags that are the most relevant to your post. Try mixing and matching and experimenting!

What to do after the first five tags

The first twenty tags will show up in search, and also the organization of your personal blog tags. For example, I use #Undine writes stuff to organize all of my original writing on my blog — chances are, people aren’t following that tag, but it’s important to my writeblr. Your next priority should be your organizational tags for your own blog.

You can also include some tags that you couldn’t fit in the first five! Again, the first twenty will show up in search so if you think someone might search a particular tag, it’s a good idea to include it as well.

And finally, any comments that you want to leave in the tag should be after you get all of your important tags out of the way!

Your personal writeblr tag

So a lot of writeblrs like to use their own url as tags whenever they make an original post, so people can find it easily.

However, if you’re like me and your url has hyphens in it, it will not show up anywhere! So instead of #pens-swords-stuff, I use #pens swords stuff.

This also goes for all of your people tagging other writeblrs in your hashtags — if they have a hyphen in their url, try writing it out without the hyphens so it’ll show up!

Don’t bother trying to use popular tags for reblogs

Your tags won’t show up in any tracked tags or searches if it’s not an original post! When you reblog someone else’s posts, you can forget the first 5 tag rule, and just jump straight into your organizational tags and your tag comments.

[wrayghtings]

Please remember, if you feel like you should be writing when you’re not, it doesn’t count as a break. 

If you spend a week telling yourself to write, feeling guilty about not writing, and stressed about not being able to make the words go, you did NOT just take a week long break. 

Your mind was still working just as hard (if not harder) than it is when you’re doing the writing. Your nerves are still going a hundred miles per hour. You received none of the benefits of a break. 

Please give yourself permission to take breaks! Full, absolute permission! To do as little-to-no-writing as you want! Decide what a break means to you, and how long you need, and stick to it! 

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An Almost Lover and A Passing Fancy

Our story. Written for: An Almost Lover. 

.x.

Laughing and making small talk, we stand at my car, both of us slightly awkward and delaying the moment. We pass it with shy smiles and shuffling feet. 

"I'm, uh, only a phone call or text away." I offer genuinely, nervously playing with my hair.

"Yeah, I know," You say, with a small grin and an easy gaze to meet. "But nothing beats-"

"The real thing or being in person, I know." I interrupt, believing I had finished your sentence as I have done several times on our few previous dates. 

But another moment passes and you take a breath. 

"You…nothing beats you."

Again, it's silent. Again, we shuffle our feet and pass small glances between one another and any random thing in the parking lot. I don't know what you felt in that moment, that maybe lasted three seconds, but for me, minutes went by. The weight and meaning of what you said pressed on me and it felt like I was flying. Inside, I was squealing and giddy. 

Me. I was the real thing. 

I should have kissed you then, but instead I blushed, smiled and laughed shyly, giving you a spoken farewell. I drove away and caught you watching from the balcony of your apartment in my rearview mirror. 

My heart was full and I kept smiling the entire way home, repeating that moment in my head. Feelings of being valued and wanted floating to the surface. In the midst of it, I will admit, there was fear. Fear that I was heading into the lovestruck emotions too fast. Fear that I was over evaluating the implications of what you said, but no matter what fear arose, my happiness pushed it back. My heart stepped up and told me to trust it. It was cracked, fragile and bruised, and I was terrified to let it take control. However, the emotions felt so good that I handed over the reigns. 

I shocked myself doing this. I've been cautious for a long time, so afraid of getting hurt again. My heart had taken damage, and there was still so much ache from the scars of loved ones who had broken it. But there was a different ache rising from beneath that. One of longing and hope and I caved beneath the weight of it.

Weeks later, it finally happens. We kiss one another, and it was tender and sweet, but not the way either one of us had imagined it. You had blubbered about not finding the courage to do so during our previous get togethers when you wanted to make that move so badly. You planned in your head that you were going to lean in slowly, with great care and gently place a kiss on my lips as we cuddled. 

It did not go that way. Instead, we were both standing and you said that you had planned it so differently. I wrapped my arms around your neck and you smiled a very small smile and I leaned in. It was tender and sweet all the same, even if it hadn't gone the way you planned. 

Weeks later though, I believe you get the kiss you had thought would be our first. 

Five more minutes. Time had crept up on us, and I needed to get going. You asked for five more minutes and I didn't hesitate to oblige. Five more minutes to be close. Five more minutes to cuddle. 

I still don't know how you did it, but you were able to say just the right things that result in me opening up and tearing down my walls just a little more. At times, it feels as though I just met you and in other moments, it's like I've known you for years. Time becomes irrelevant. It's like you've been apart of me from the beginning. Maybe it's that our souls are kindred spirits that see the pains we have each endured. Within you, I see true hurt and fading hope, but still you take the time to gingerly bandage my own emotional wounds because you believe I can heal. You hold so little faith in recovering yourself, and while it's obvious you will never be the same, you view yourself with despair, unaware that I'm falling for the person you are in the present...not the past one you speak of with such fond bitterness.

You will never be the same. You will always have that hurt. You will have those scars, but they don't define you. I know you could say that to me, and I desperately wish you could believe me if were to tell you the same. You speak sweetly, kindly and genuinely, doing your best to soothe old wounds. Tears are streaming down my face and I laugh ironically as you smile gently, your knowing, kind eyes seeing right through me. It's not painful, that piercing glare of yours. You see through my mask and while you don't point out what I'm doing, the small spark of understanding in your eyes convey to me that I'm not fooling your with my laughs and light jokes. I'm not fooling you, but you let me continue, all the while, I know that you know deeply exactly what I'm doing and why I do it. 

Barely feeling it, your hand traces my jaw, and I swear I hear you whisper so quietly on my lips that you love me. 

My tears pick up for a moment as we kiss, and when we break, I gasp for air. I was unsure whether or not you said that you loved me. I couldn't tell if it was my mind translating the emotions your kiss transferred to my lips, or if you actually spoke. 

If I could have formed a clear thought, I would've said it back. Even if you hadn't said it aloud, I know that's what you were telling me. But instead we enjoyed the moment in silence as I let my tears dry up. Five minutes turned into an hour. I hardly noticed because time did what it always did when I'm with you. It ceased its existence.

Eventually though...my time with you ceased altogether.

Gradually, other feelings you had for someone else came to light and I knew it would hurt me in the end. I think I saw it from the beginning. I knew who you were when we started, and who you loved as I fully entered the picture. Deep down, I knew you were going to hurt me. You weren't ready for another relationship. You still talked about her in present tense, correcting yourself seconds too late, fumbling awkwardly and glancing hesitantly at me as you did. I knew. I really did. I guess I just hoped you would prove me wrong.

You didn't.

Today, we don't talk and those happy feelings have slowly died and the lovestruck sensations numbed. We had no closure. You simply stopped texting or calling me. You stopped asking me to come over. I waited for you to reach out for weeks, butterflies stirring in my stomach every time my phone vibrated. In the end, I stopped waiting and accepted that our time was over. I accepted and welcomed that familiar pain. I listened to that small voice you silenced for a few passing moments as it told me I had been foolish. My heart deflated and shrank back against that voice, because it knew it had been too eager and hopeful. 

Another chapter in my life is all you were. It's all I was for you as well, yet I don't hold any resentment for you. Rather, I hope you are happy, because I really did mean it when I wished you viewed yourself from a better perspective. That you held your own heart with the tenderness you traced my jaw with. That you turned your kind gaze inward and saw the gentle person I did. We had no closure, but there was never a fight. We simply let our own hurt open the old wounds, not wanting to do it to each other. Even now, when my thoughts wander back to you, I wish for your happiness. 

While it hurt detangling my heartstrings, I really did mean it when I wanted to say "I love you" and I believe you did as well. I don't think our paths will cross again, but I'm glad they did for a short time. You helped me see I could love again, even though it hurt.

.x. 

Thank you for the chapter. Written by: A Passing Fancy. 

.x.

Also posted on my fictionpress! Keep up with me there for more content!

[wrayghtings]

Writers,

Right now, you're working on someone's favorite book. Keep going.

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the thing about writing fantasy stories is that language is so based on history that it can be hard to decide how far suspension of disbelief can carry you word-choice wise - what do you call a french braid in a world with no france? can a queen ann neckline be described if there was no queen ann? where do you draw the line? can you use the word platonic if plato never existed? can you name a character chris in a land without christianity? can you even say ‘bungalow’ in a world where there was no indian language for the word to originate from? is there a single word in any language that doesn’t have a story behind it? to be accurate a fantasy story would be written in a fantasy language but who has the time for that

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Day 1 a writer: meticously planning out the plot of your novel/series, having detailed character cards containing hypotheticals and personality types

Day 7492974 a writer: i was writing a sci-fi novel but now it’s a noir murder mystery and i don’t know any of the characters names but the protagonist only drinks sparkling water

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One of the best things about being a writer is that you can add as much diversity as you want. 

Want to see more plus-sized people in fiction? Write them!

Want to see more POC in fiction? Write them!

Small contributions add to a larger change.

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One Word Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

01. — first 02. — kiss 03. — final 04. — numb 05. — broken 06. — wings 07. — melody 08. — rules 09. — chocolate 10. — nostalgia 11. — heartbeat 12. — stranger 13. — confusion 14. — bitter 15. — afterlife 16. — daybreak 17. — audience 18. — endless 19. — fireworks 20. — wishing 21. — birthday 22. — tomorrow 23. — oppression 24. — agony 25. — return 26. — protection 27. — boxes 28. — hope 29. — preparation 30. — beautiful 31. — lies 32. — underneath 33. — hide 34. — diary 35. — unforeseen 36. — conditional 37. — gone 38. — clear 39. — heartache 40. — wired 41. — insanity 42. — foolish 43. — words 44. — study 45. — love 46. — skies 47. — stars 48. — lucky 49. — shake 50. — punctual

[wrayghtings]

ME @ ALL THE WRITERS I FOLLOW.

[wrayghtings]

I’m not one to cry when it comes to my writing. No matter what hardship I put my darling characters through, I’ve never even been close to shedding a tear. Sure I might send my partner “omg crying” when we talk about angst, but that’s always just for effect.

As a general rule, I don’t write things that are personal to me. I can’t relate to people that put themselves into their characters — that go out of their way to insert a piece of themselves, or to deliberately create a character that is similar to them. Not saying that it’s a bad thing to do because it isn’t, but that’s not how I create. While I’m sure that my characters hold some similarity to me, because they’re a product of my experiences, none of it is deliberate on my part. I don’t give my characters pieces of me consciously. I love them dearly all the same, but I don’t see myself in them very much.

This final short story I’m writing for my creative writing class was the first piece of my writing to ever make me cry.

When I first drafted it, I had to put it down and walk away because I couldn’t see my computer screen through my tears.

This is the first time I’ve ever written something so personal, and something so important to me.

I’m writing about the experiences and aftermath of the tsunami of March 11th, 2011 in Japan. Although I was in America at the time and avoided it completely, my mother’s hometown was the first place that the tsunami hit, and there was a solid two weeks in which we didn’t know if my family was dead or alive.

This story isn’t about my lived experiences — it’s about what I didn’t experience — actually being there when the earthquake and tsunami hit. I think I’ve heard enough stories and firsthand experiences to write something about it, because I think it’s a story that needs to be told. Especially now when people have forgotten about it, but there is still so much left to do for recovery.

This took place 8 years ago, and I wasn’t expecting it to still be affecting me like this.

Writing something so personal is probably not something I’m going to do a lot, I don’t think. Whether it be the subject matter, or a character. I’ve always hated opening up to people and being vulnerable — that, and I know that any character that deliberately has bits of me won’t turn out as well-developed as my other characters.