Writersontumblr - Blog Posts

"why do you know that" i am a writer

"why do you know that" i am curious about the world around me

Writer’s Blessing from Get Your Words Out on Dreamwidth. I bestow it upon thee. Go and be weird.

and I am simultaneously both

There are two types of writers:

1. 'It's fiction, it doesn't need to make sense!'

2. 'I didn't account for the rotation of the planet and how that affects the constalations while my characters stargazed at different times of year, I have failed as a writer, and this entire thing is trash'

Guys, listen.

What if the fbi agent monitoring your search history reads fanfiction?

What if they read YOUR fanfiction?

What if they figure out your identity as the author of their current read based on your super specific Google searches and how they always seem to match up to words or events in the newest chapter?

What then???

I'm about to cry rn cause a sad song just came on and it's making me think about one of my favorite characters that I just killed off😭

Someone help what is wrong with me!?!? I'm so depressed that I can feel the physical weight of my manifested grief like a corgi just sat on my chest but I did this to myself???

I ran over a turtle once.

Now,

I think it may be some form of karma

that I am that turtle

stalled in my journey after I'd only just begun

never knowing what lies in wait across the road.

Life is a highway,

and I am merely the roadkill smeared upon it.

Sometimes it's not even hateful criticism that hurts the most.

I've received comments on fic that's explicitly tagged as self-indulgent, fic that I've written and shared for the sole purpose of making myself happy, only to be told all the ways it's lacking.

This has never been done in an overtly rude way, but it still hurts.

To be told that a character I wrote in a specific way, simply for myself (FOR FREE), is frustrating, weak, underdeveloped, etc. is extremely hurtful.

Not because the criticisms aren't valid, but because I didn't intend to upset anyone with my interpretation, nor did I write MY INTERPRETATION with anyone else's specific tastes in mind.

I adore receiving comments but for someone who already struggles to find the time/motivation to write, that shit's depressing, disheartening, and makes me never want to type another word as long as I live.

Nah, fam. It's not about "taking" criticism. It's about the fact that unless a writer asks for it specifically, it's a dick thing to do on a website that is rooted in community.

If a writer wants critique they will ask trusted friends or professional associates (in the relevant field). When a writer shares a fic on AO3 it's not necessarily with the aim of improving their craft (there are better places for that). It's about sharing joy.

Positive comments enhance that feeling of joy and community. Negative comments do not.

Fic isn't a product to be evaluated. If it's not for you, then you can just walk away. 😁

Vampires in Space

The earth was destroyed. We're talking blown to smithereens and is now a bunch of space rubble destroyed. Obviously, all living things were killed in this cataclysmic event.

Except for you, an immortal vampire who cannot die.

Set adrift without a drop of blood and nothing but the cold void surrounding you, you float in a sort of stasis; painfully alive but forever starving and helpless to change it. It seems the vast emptiness is all that will comprise of your eternity.

Until your path is interrupted by a ship, and you dare to hope that maybe you aren't as alone as you thought.

Thank the writing God's above for Pinterest!

Sometimes I wonder how many WIPs were lost to time before Pinterest was created.

What do writers love to do?

Imagine and obsess over all the little details of there stories.

What do they not want to do?

Write all that shit down.

Ergo, Pinterest!

Seriously, how did these people live?

But you ultimately leave it. The writing/depression God's hath spoken!

Breaking News!

The CDC has reason to believe a deadly spike in the love epidemic will occur February 14th.

If you are fortunate enough to have not caught the debilitating disease we urge you, lock your doors and windows, turn off all electronic devices, and read absolutely NOTHING categorized as "romance."

If you have not been exposed and you do not follow the advice listed above, you will surely catch a severe case of the Lovebug.

There is a chance a new strain of the virus will make its appearance on this day. Scientists have dubbed it "Heartsickness."

In clinical trials, the unfortunate people to catch this strain were only cured by catching the Lovebug, which doctors agree, is no cure at all.

There is still no known cure for the Lovebug or any of its various strains and scientists urge that extreme social distancing is the best method of avoidance.

Stay safe out there and we wish you all an uneventful 14th.

“getting the lovebug” but in an aromantic horror way

And synonyms. So many fucking synonyms.

Being a writer is just 97% googling words to make sure they mean exactly what you always assumed they meant.

It took me a while to realize that I no longer hold a place in your world. I should have stopped trying to fit myself in, a long time back.

Life just turns upside down one day and you wonder what you did wrong. You realize that you had never anticipated this turn.

Everyday I mourn over the loss of people from my life. Everyday I wish I had a chance to talk, to tell you what you think is wrong. I wanna prove myself to you. I'm not what you think I am.

I miss being surronded by my people.

I miss people listening to all the crazy stuff I say.

now, neither are there people nor do I say stupid stuff.

I miss me.

And finally I realized that you don't have to be with people, surrounded by friends and family, to be you. Coz all you need is you.

I'll bounce back

I'll be fine

After a long time I'm giving a chance to hope.

Coz people, they leave, they stay at times too its upto them. If you mourn you'll just keep mourning.

The sooner you realize that your questions have no answers, you'll stop asking them.

I don't seek answers anymore. It's not people I rely on but rather me.

You stay, you leave, it's your choise. I'm gonna stay the same. I'll be fine.

Let's hope so. Well if you ask @glitteringhuman he'd say let's believe so.

I believe this time. I'll be back, it's just a matter of time.

For one gradually passing moment

the swirling mist clears a path

leaving cool crystals grasping

onto each strand of grass

Even in shadow

does nature thrive

a silent spectre

full of bristling sighs

with a glimmer

the light then shows

the blooming tree preserved

alive in its shadow

Wednesday, 28th July 2021

Love is more than the dream wistfully painted across torn pages in dripping ink and meadows of wildflowers, by writers and poets huddled by candlelight seeing love written in beloved faces. Seeing love in yearning clouds slowly chasing after the sun's fragile rays. Love is heartache and hurt and pain - a climbing river pushing back against everything you know. It inspires and challenges, it breathes life and ends it. It is everything we want and everything we do not dare to have. Love can bring just as much destruction to the harmony it creates. But it’s never about what love is or what it is not - it is how we shape its destiny within our own lives that counts. Love will always be with you, but will you let it stay? And sometimes we know that we just have to chase it away. 

Tuesday, 20th July 2021

At night in quiet solitude of the passing day

I turn the yellowing pages of the waxing moon

Molten in a burning light to show its age

And cast in pooling stains of inky blue

It glows in flickers of a dying candle light

Wrapped in a purple wreath, delicately crowned

An encroaching darkness consuming the night

It dims its eyes to rest amongst the drowned

You can get lost in nature

it entices you into its graceful grasp

luring you into a dream

of eternal sunshine

You walk with stars on your feet

trailing glory in your waking path

rosy fingers grazing smokey clouds to meet

the dawning skies above

Thursday, 8th July 2021

There is freedom in the shadowed storm as the veil-wrapped sky billows in a climbing release. I lay here on the rough strewn ground, a wilderness of rain-kissed grass, tumbled yarn, and loose cut threads. Find me in the running lake carving eyes into the overgrown path, lost to the planted sky now curling into a silver smile.

Freedom is more than just running through the rain on Thursday afternoons.

This deafening cacophony 

creates a solitary peace

encompassed in small rooms

rippling a quiet release