Publishing has always been a fucking nightmare, but now it’s a layer of hell. It’s not enough that writers be good at what they do. Writers have to maintain an active social media presence and cultivate a following. Be available.
They have to be conventionally attractive enough to look good enough to see on a screen, aesthetically pleasing, kind, funny, up-to-date on trends, socially aware but not so controversial that they turn off a brand from California from slapping their discount code on a video promoting a book.
They have to do all of this with no media training, with little help from the companies that are supposed to be doing this for them.
Of course, a lot of this isn't possible for say, the 40-something mother of two who teaches English at a school and writes on the side. She’s boxed out of an already complex industry that already has enough walls.
On some level, I think authors have always marketed themselves a little, but we’ve reached such a crazy point where we’re demanding the author become the influencer. Accessibility in publishing has narrowed from an inch to a sliver. And that inch was hard enough to get in as is.
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Its been a while now, and I've slept on it, but I'm still reeling from episode 7 of Dead Boy Detectives. Even if I can find critique in other episodes - somewhat clunky dialogue at times, a lot of exposition, the teenage drama which can sometimes get tiresome - I cannot fault episode 7. It is perfection. Its a classic Yockey episode full of symbolism and metaphor, full of layers and meaning and depth. You don't just invoke the Orpheus Myth in The Sandman Universe my dudes. That was IMPORTANT. Especially since it was invoked on the stairs to Hell - the very stairs Orpheus probably walked down himself.
There is something so harrowing about it, about the Despair of it all. About what it means for these characters. My head is reeling from it.
Not only that, but the external symbolism and the clear Knowledge of what such an episode would mean to their target audience, to a specific target audience that certain creators of this show would be well aware of, and well aware of that target audiences specific pain. The additional meta level which you can only possibly understand if you were part of a certain group of people on November 5th 2020. How the echoes of that particular event were vibrating around that staircase. How there is something lovingly carved into that episode that builds a bridge between us. There was a love letter in there, an apology perhaps too, an echo to another confession that didn't get such respectful treatment. A confession that sent someone to Hell rather than freed them from it.
To invoke the Orpheus Myth, to invoke Despair herself, there is something in that. Sure, many people will dismiss this as reading too much into it. But they don't have the same shared history that I do with Richard Speight Jr, with Steve Yockey. Two people that know all too well the impact such a scene could have.
Anyway this is mostly just ramblings as I try to get my thoughts together. Whatever it all is, its something, and it goes beyond the show itself. There is healing in this and I can appreciate that deeply.
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(for a proper idea of my emotions, please picture this said while crying happy tears)
after who knows how long waiting for a new reincarnation to appear, taking the time to let cult dipper settle in and calm down, bills hard work and dedication to manipulation finally paid off! he gets to finally cuddle and sleep with his husband again!
You know Bill's mentally giving himself a pat on the back and congratulations for his own cleverness. Getting this flighty little traumatized guy to hold still for a hug has been a whole ordeal; it's about time it paid off!
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DPxDC media story prompt
Okay first off, this sort of thing has been done before, but here’s a different version involving Jazz Fenton.
Popular in DPxDC fanfic is that the GIW have a media blackouts—or whiteouts, there’s kind of a difference, where whiteouts work more like… there is a file, but you can’t edit it or it may be locked out for certain users, or an edited version of events where things are ‘whited out’ like with correction paste, among other definitions.
Point is!
The GIW have a media restriction, and among these is social media, probably with certain words or phrases pinging to location restrict the post. There was probably a phase for a while where the A-Listers tried to get around it, but ultimately failed, and since they could only get information IN rather than information OUT, and possibly still a limited amount of outside information in the first place, social media didn’t take off as much in Amity Park than in other places in the world. There’s still a small local presence, but at this point it’s almost like a city wide chat room than actual social media.
Enter in, Jazz Fenton. She’s chronically behind on trends, so by the time she decides to get on social media, the GIW aren’t being as militant on it. And she has that habit of calling the ghosts by code names instead of their actual names, such as Crate Creep instead of The Box Ghost, or Ghost X instead of Skulker. By pure coincidence of her personal language use and Tucker messing with all of Team Phantom’s phone locaters for easier excuse giving, Jazz manages to dodge all the word censors.
She accidentally creates a whole online story community convinced it’s some kind of altered reality game or role playing game, what have you. Meanwhile, Jazz is letting off steam by ranting online with, of course, made up names of all the people involved. She doesn’t even notice the numbers, and that’s assuming the GIW didn’t just—region lock the ability to see them for whatever reason. The few Amity Parkers on social medias see Jazz, maybe look at a complaint post or two, then move on because this isn’t even an unusual video inside Amity Park’s social media sphere.
Heck, PHANTOM has a social media presence and he’s done several rant videos too! One particularly famous one is him complaining about keeping his boots and gloves white while being chased and one of the GIW agents actually stops and gives him advice before shooting at him again.
Those outside Amity Park, of course, only see Jazz’s videos. And she has no idea that she has an entire online presence and mild amounts of online fame. And again, almost everyone thinks the whole thing is just a fun little game, if oddly detailed.
Until, that is, a certain young man by the name of Bernard comes in. One of the few who are totally convinced this is real, he tries to also convince his boyfriend—Timothy Drake-Wayne. Who, in turn, finds it incredibly suspicious that it’s this hard to get news and posts from one random town in the Midwest.
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unpopular opinion time: It doesn't matter what you headcanon any Ninjago characters as, race, ethnicity, and sexuality-wise, because someone might have a different idea, and that's COMPLETELY fine.
if you headcanon, say, Cole as Bi or Pan rather than Gay, guess what? Your headcanon is valid! Not everybody needs to have the exact same headcanons as each other, and that's fine!!!
Is it WEIRD to see certain headcanons that deviate SO much from the established fanon? Yes! But that doesn't mean you're wrong for liking those deviating ideas or whatever.
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