This was my main blog, but since I primarily use my secondary blog (sarcasticringing), I'd recommend that you go follow that.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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I’ll never not be amused by the fact that I can drop the words “crucifix nail nipples” into a conversation and some of you who have been with me since the livejournal days will join me in the flashbacks, screaming and crying all the way.
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just letting everyone know
just wanted to let you all know that my active blog is @sarcasticringing so if you wanted to follow an active blog then check that out!
(when tumblr gives me the ability to switch primary blogs, then I'm totally going to do that)
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Anyone have a fic rec?
If you have some fan-tastic fic, we wanna read it!
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I think I might be drunk, but I'm not sure I'd know either way.
Writer’s Block
In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite. Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence. Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!
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When I was nine, possibly ten, an author came to our school to talk about writing. His name was Hugh Scott, and I doubt he’s known outside of Scotland. And even then I haven’t seen him on many shelves in recent years in Scotland either. But he wrote wonderfully creepy children’s stories, where the supernatural was scary, but it was the mundane that was truly terrifying. At least to little ten year old me. It was Scooby Doo meets Paranormal Activity with a bonny braw Scottish-ness to it that I’d never experienced before.
I remember him as a gangling man with a wiry beard that made him look older than he probably was, and he carried a leather bag filled with paper. He had a pen too that was shaped like a carrot, and he used it to scribble down notes between answering our (frankly disinterested) questions. We had no idea who he was you see, no one had made an effort to introduce us to his books. We were simply told one morning, ‘class 1b, there is an author here to talk to you about writing’, and this you see was our introduction to creative writing. We’d surpassed finger painting and macaroni collages. It was time to attempt Words That Were Untrue.
You could tell from the look on Mrs M’s face she thought it was a waste of time. I remember her sitting off to one side marking papers while this tall man sat down on our ridiculously short chairs, and tried to talk to us about what it meant to tell a story. She wasn’t big on telling stories, Mrs M. She was also one of the teachers who used to take my books away from me because they were “too complicated” for me, despite the fact that I was reading them with both interest and ease. When dad found out he hit the roof. It’s the one and only time he ever showed up to the school when it wasn’t parents night or the school play. After that she just left me alone, but she made it clear to my parents that she resented the fact that a ten year old used words like ‘ubiquitous’ in their essays. Presumably because she had to look it up.
Anyway, Mr Scott, was doing his best to talk to us while Mrs M made scoffing noises from her corner every so often, and you could just tell he was deflating faster than a bouncy castle at a knife sharpening party, so when he asked if any of us had any further questions and no one put their hand up I felt awful. I knew this was not only insulting but also humiliating, even if we were only little children. So I did the only thing I could think of, put my hand up and said “Why do you write?”
I’d always read about characters blinking owlishly, but I’d never actually seen it before. But that’s what he did, peering down at me from behind his wire rim spectacles and dragging tired fingers through his curly beard. I don’t think he expected anyone to ask why he wrote stories. What he wrote about, and where he got his ideas from maybe, and certainly why he wrote about ghosts and other creepy things, but probably not why do you write. And I think he thought perhaps he could have got away with “because it’s fun, and learning is fun, right kids?!”, but part of me will always remember the way the world shifted ever so slightly as it does when something important is about to happen, and this tall streak of a man looked down at me, narrowed his eyes in an assessing manner and said, “Because people told me not to, and words are important.”
I nodded, very seriously in the way children do, and knew this to be a truth. In my limited experience at that point, I knew certain people (with a sidelong glance to Mrs M who was in turn looking at me as though she’d just known it’d be me that type of question) didn’t like fiction. At least certain types of fiction. I knew for instance that Mrs M liked to read Pride and Prejudice on her lunch break but only because it was sensible fiction, about people that could conceivably be real. The idea that one could not relate to a character simply because they had pointy ears or a jet pack had never occurred to me, and the fact that it’s now twenty years later and people are still arguing about the validity of genre fiction is beyond me, but right there in that little moment, I knew something important had just transpired, with my teacher glaring at me, and this man who told stories to live beginning to smile. After that the audience turned into a two person conversation, with gradually more and more of my classmates joining in because suddenly it was fun. Mrs M was pissed and this bedraggled looking man who might have been Santa after some serious dieting, was starting to enjoy himself. As it turned out we had all of his books in our tiny corner library, and in the words of my friend Andrew “hey there’s a giant spider fighting a ghost on this cover! neat!” and the presentation devolved into chaos as we all began reading different books at once and asking questions about each one. “Does she live?”— “What about the talking trees” —“is the ghost evil?” —“can I go to the bathroom, Miss?” —“Wow neat, more spiders!”
After that we were supposed to sit down, quietly (glare glare) and write a short story to show what we had learned from listening to Mr Scott. I wont pretend I wrote anything remotely good, I was ten and all I could come up with was a story about a magic carrot that made you see words in the dark, but Mr Scott seemed to like it. In fact he seemed to like all of them, probably because they were done with such vibrant enthusiasm in defiance of the people who didn’t want us to.
The following year, when I’d moved into Mrs H’s class—the kind of woman that didn’t take away books from children who loved to read and let them write nonsense in the back of their journals provided they got all their work done—a letter arrived to the school, carefully wedged between several copies of a book which was unheard of at the time, by a new author known as J.K. Rowling. Mrs H remarked that it was strange that an author would send copies of books that weren’t even his to a school, but I knew why he’d done it. I knew before Mrs H even read the letter.
Because words are important. Words are magical. They’re powerful. And that power ought to be shared. There’s no petty rivalry between story tellers, although there’s plenty who try to insinuate it. There’s plenty who try to say some words are more valuable than others, that somehow their meaning is more important because of when it was written and by whom. Those are the same people who laud Shakespeare from the heavens but refuse to acknowledge that the quote “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them“ is a dick joke.
And although Mr Scott seems to have faded from public literary consumption, I still think about him. I think about his stories, I think about how he recommended another author and sent copies of her books because he knew our school was a puritan shithole that fought against the Wrong Type of Wordes and would never buy them into the library otherwise. But mostly I think about how he looked at a ten year old like an equal and told her words and important, and people will try to keep you from writing them—so write them anyway.
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1k words with inspiration: literally 10 minutes or less of writing. a breeze
1k words without inspiration: i will do it. i will take the ring to mordor
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What happens to a human body after death - Tech Insider
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Young (or YA) protagonists and death
Don’t throw death around so casually that it loses its meaning. These are people. Even a minor side character who got caught in your final battle’s crossfire. Even if it was a crowd of fifty. Do not let your young or unseasoned protagonist celebrate and be happy immediately after witnessing and possibly being involved in all this death. Unless your character has been doing this for a few decades/centuries/millennia or they have difficulty identifying with other people and their suffering, don’t let them “get used to it.” Especially if this character comes from a completely non-violent background. You do not go from weaving blankets with your mother to stabbing bandits in the heart and just go “meh” when your hands are covered in blood.
Conversely, if mass killings/deaths are necessary to your plot, give your character(s) a moment to reflect on it. If they start to get used to it, let them realize that and be horrified. Let them break down for a moment if need be. Let them want to break down but recognize that it can’t happen right now, not with everything that’s going on, but know that it will at some point, and it’s only going to get worse the longer they have to think about it.
Maybe they’ll be criticized for it. Maybe they’ll be called weak or spineless, maybe people around them will scoff at their tears and tell them to “grow up.” That can happen. It does happen. Maybe it forces them to hide their emotions, but don’t let it take them away. Understanding, “this is necessary” is one thing. Realizing, “I had no choice” or “they were hurting people” or even “they deserved it” is one thing. But becoming completely indifferent about it is something else entirely.
If your character is desensitized and no one is there to point it out, your audience will get desensitized, too. At a moment of loss when their hearts should be breaking, they’ll say, “What, again?” When your protagonist loses someone precious and it ruins them from the inside out, your audience will wonder, “Why does this matter? All those people you killed had families and loved ones, too. But this life matters because it was of value to you? That’s incredibly selfish.”
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Cliches in YA Romance
gabrielarava said to fixyourwritinghabits: Hi! I’m in the process of outlining a young adult novel and am very adamant about avoiding cliches in the genre, especially romantic ones. What are some of the most common cliches in YA romances?
Truthfully, I’m a real sucker for a good romance my in YA novels. I’m also quite picky about what I read and ship. I feel like somewhere along the line, this answer turned into “all-the-things-I-hate-about-YA-romance,” but here we go!
The Love Not-Triangle. I don’t mind love triangles, as long as they actually are triangles, not something that looks vaguely like this from the start:
A “love triangle” that adds no suspense because we know by the end of chapter one that A is going to eventually end up with B, and B and C have no relationship other than their competition for A’s affections. It doesn’t matter how great C is, or how badly B treats A, A will end up with B.
Write a love triangle that actually has the reader guessing who your protagonist will end up with. Write a love triangle with fleshed out characters that includes other complicated non-romantic relationships interfering. Write a love triangle that is memorable.
Not-Plain Heroine. A heroine that is plain only to her eyes. Often with brown hair. Extremely pretty when she dresses up. Love Interest finds her beautiful all the time.
The Eternally Smiling White Knight in Shining Armour and the Brooding Baddest Baddass also known as your typical male love interests. Please, give the White Knight some flaws and the Brooding Baddass some reasons for being brooding. Less cardboard cutouts, more rounded characters.
Tragic Backstory. Everyone needs a backstory, but sometimes it goes too far. Sometimes, backgrounds with abuse and other very serious things are taken lightly and used for the sake of a flashy tragic backstory, to make a “broken” character that can be simply “fixed” by love.
“I’m dangerous/I’m not good for you/Stay away from me.” Please no. If they really have that level of self awareness, and really are as good as the book later makes them out to be, then they should have made the effort to stay away. If someone said that to me, I’d give the creep a look and walk away.
Unnecessary and easily solved conflict. If the problem can be solved through an easily do-able 2 minute conversation or a text, then it does not need to be dragged out into 5 chapters of angst.
Romantic Stalking. I don’t know why this is a thing. Stalking is never romantic, it’s a creepy invasion of privacy. Overly “protective” and possessive guys are not romantic, they’re abusive.
First Love at First Sight/Insta-Love. Well, we’ve all seen this one. People get crushes, people fall in lust, but two people do not fall in a deep, maddening, meaningful and heathy love within five minutes of meeting.
The Jealous Third Party who exists for no reason other than to tear the main couple apart. Usually horrible, vapid and shallow. No character development other than to hate the protagonist more and more.
Straight, cis and white. Not exactly a cliche, but you get the idea. You see a lot of YA out there with straight, cis and white people falling in love, and I’m getting a little tired of it. Of course, writing about other genders/sexualities/cultures takes a lot of work and research, but I highly encourage you to do so!
The Magical Healing C***. Sex heals wounds. Falling in love cures you of depression. Your relationship means an end to any mental illness you’ve been struggling with. Please, stop right there. Just no. Stop. Don’t do it.
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Open With A Punch
It takes about three paragraphs to decide whether or not I’m going to buy that novel I just mindlessly picked up in the book store. Sometimes I’ll read the entire first chapter if I’m still on the fence, but those are rare occasions. Nine times out of ten, I’ve made my decision by the end of that third paragraph.
That means the writer has three paragraphs to present an interesting premise, a strong voice, and a character I’m willing to spend 200+ pages with. And maybe that sounds like an impossible standard to meet, but I’ve bought more books than I can fit in my house.

Three paragraphs is more than enough space. Hell–I’d say I’m even being pretty generous by reading that much. I’ve met pickier readers who only went by the first paragraph. There was a particularly tough event my old writers group offered where we’d critique and rank our interest level based completely on the first sentences of each others stories (which was ridiculous in hindsight, because it actually is pretty impossible to get a solid impression from just one sentence).
Point is, you have a very limited window to grab a readers attention, so a strong opening is indispensable.
In my old writers group, we learned a little checklist for things our opening paragraph(s) should contain and accomplish. I don’t have the damn thing memorized anymore, but it went a little something like this:
Introduce your protagonist, preferably by name
Introduce immediate conflict and foreshadow larger conflict
Introduce your setting
Don’t open with a dream
Actually. Just don’t open with your character waking up at all
Also. No flashbacks.
And don’t open with dialogue
AND FOR FUCK’S SAKE DON’T TALK ABOUT THE WEATHER THAT’S SO BORING OMFG
The list I learned was a lot longer than that, but that’s the gist of it. Aaand now you can go ahead and forget you read any of that, because I personally think it’s stupid to put any sort of limitations on a person’s creativity. You wanna start with dialogue or a full weather report? Go ahead.
The novel I’m writing now begins with a flashback to an out-of-narrative monologue, then jumps into the main character’s point of view on the second page. My main character goes nameless through the majority of the novel.
Basically, I’m breaking all the rules I put so much merit in back in the day. But I’m still super confident in my opening. Why? Because I open with a punch.
So. How exactly do you open with a punch?
Voice. A strong, interesting voice catches me every time. Take a look at some of your favorite books and pick out what makes the voices unique.
Disorient me. Most of my favorites left me completely bewildered after those first three paragraphs. I’m confused. I have questions and no idea what the answers could be. I’ll probably start reading in the parking lot.
Action over explanation. Back story can almost always wait until after you have your reader on the line. It’s best to give them something to sink their teeth into before you go unloading all the lore of your world. I’ll be much more interested in (and less likely to skim) the back story if I’m already invested.
Seriously. Action. It’s important. Like I said, you can start your story however you want, but boring content will always be boring content. You wanna open your novel by talking about the weather? That’s fine. But it’s only interesting to read about if it’s something out of the ordinary. The blizzard of the century. A damn meteor shower. Something I can’t just walk outside and look at.
Give me an existential crisis. This one might be specific to me, but I have quite a few favorites that, instead of starting with action, use their openings to scare the shit out of me with some horrifying theory or observation.
Of course, these are just a few ways you can punch your reader with your opening. Play around, experiment, and write your own hooks.
Happy writing, lovelies
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Things almost every author needs to research
How bodies decompose
Wilderness survival skills
Mob mentality
Other cultures
What it takes for a human to die in a given situation
Common tropes in your genre
Average weather for your setting
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Some Show/Story Pitching tips for young creators.
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IF YOU LOVE WRITING BUT DON’T HAVE THE INSPIRATION FOR A 10-PART BOOK SAGA YOU SHOULD TAKE A LOOK AT THIS SITE
IT’S INCREDIBLY HELPFUL AND CAN FOR INSTANCE GENERATE TOPICS AND FIRST LINES, CONTAINS LOADS OF EXERCISES AND YOU CAN FIND PLENTY OF WRITING TIPS.
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Hey, guys!
While this is my primary blog, it is not the one I use most. Most of my personal stuff and reblogs are at petalsaregreen! I am trying, however, to use this blog more often and to give writing advice and such.
Also, feel free to check out rainbowwriting since it’s an awesome blog that recently started out.
Once again, sorry guys, for not being more active.
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