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thisselflovecamebacktome · 6 years

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The good, the bad and the ugly; every one of my thoughts and headcannons surrounding Rachel Amber.

I’ve wanted to do this piece detailing exactly what I think of Rachel since episode three came out but haven’t had the time to actually sit down and write it but here it is.

EDIT: This was a hell of a lot longer than I expected it to be so it’s going under a read more so it doesn’t clutter up the tag but I do encourage you all to read it.

I will start by saying even before Before The Storm I was an Amberprice shipper romantically over a Pricefield one (tbh they felt more like sisters to me). I didn’t think that they had the healthiest of relationships, but the dynamic intrigued me. However I will say that I definitely feel what happened with Max was an important factor to Amberprice happening just as Rachel was to Pricefield reuniting. To me, both relationships are extremely important and one is not better than the other, just different.

I also find it hilariously ironic that both sets of shippers pull the “Rachel/Max abandoned Chloe” argument because all three of these girls are a cautionary tale in appreciation. What I mean by that is that all three of these girls share the fact that they are too focused on one point in time to appreciate those in the other time periods of their lives.

Chloe is stuck in the past as shown by her mostly focusing on Max/her dad in Before The Storm and Rachel in Life Is Strange and not realising the good things she has in her present and could have in her future.

Max is too focused on the present which is implied through her relationship with Chloe in both games. Like I’m sure there’s other factors including anxiety and guilt involved, but the fact that she moved past her friendship with Chloe to the point she doesn’t even attempt to get in contact when coming back to Arcardia Bay and yet struggles to see a future without her the minute she comes back into Max’s life implies Max is definitely someone who focuses on the present with smaller regard and appreciation of both her future and past. As an added point, how Max uses her power fits very well into this. It’s not until Chloe has a go at her about William dying that Max even considers to go back that far to try and “fix” the problem. Likewise with Kate, she never goes back to stop what happened or stop the bullying or anything. Like nearly every, it’s only that one present conversation Max rewinds as much as possible.

Lastly, Rachel focuses too much on the future. This is mostly shown by the fact that she does anything she can do achieve her ideal future of leaving Arcadia Bay, something she thinks will solve all her problems. Chloe, Frank, Jefferson? Hell maybe even Nathan? When she first meets them, she sees ways out. Now I want to make it clear that this does not mean that she does not care about any of them. I 100% believe she loved Chloe and wanted that “perfect” future she thought she was going to have by leaving the Bay. We are also practically told that she cared deeply for Frank by the fact he has her bracelet which was heavily implied was given to him as a gift and sign of affection. While we are not shown it, it would not surprise me if she cared for Nathan and Jefferson too. To be honest, that’s something I didn’t pick up so well in Life Is Strange, but really did in Before The Storm. But either way, it can’t be denied that these people all had something to offer in terms of helping Rachel achieve the future she wanted. And in Jefferson’s case, it got her killed because quite frankly, he knew just how bad she wanted to get out and that he was her best chance at that point which I will talk about later. But once again, them having something Rachel felt she needed does not change that she cared for them. Likewise, I do not want to say that Chloe didn’t enjoy anyone in her present or that Max didn’t like Chloe and others in her past because that would be false. But all up with all three girls, it’s hard to deny that their focus on these time periods cost them in the long run.

Anyway, that was just some observations I’ve made on the three of them. The real reason I wanted to write this post was to focus on Rachel. During Life Is Strange, I made a post about how part of the reason I disliked Chloe was because she was exactly like me pre recovery. And to be honest, I never thought there was going to be another character I related to more in this series, even if it was the parts of me I dislike and or have killed over the years... Then Rachel Amber came along. As a whole, Rachel Amber has more in common with pre and post recovery me than most characters ever will. Her ambition, her fear and discontent of the mediocrity of everyday life, her need for love and acceptance and hell, even her ability to have people follow her and do what she wants both good and bad, a trait I’ve tried to repress in myself; all of it is what I see in myself.

Quite frankly, the major emotion out of that list that pushes Rachel is her discontent of the mediocrity of everyday life. She’s not a pessimist, not by far, but she always believes the grass is greener elsewhere and does everything in her power to get to that spot, only to realise the grass looks greener in another spot, hence the cycle continues. If I had to guess, I would say that her father caused this. Not with the way he treated her, because even if it doesn’t match well with Life Is Strange, it is clear that James adored his little girl... he may have done messed up stuff to keep her safe, but he did love her. Rose on the other hand... well it was very heavily implied in the game that he did not treat her well. I would guess that his love for her was conditional and he made that clear, even when at home. And when children see that at a young age, they often internalise it because their parents are such a big part of them. So it would not surprise me if Rachel began asking herself “If his love for her is conditional and she’s my mum, does that mean his love for me is too?”. Once again, I 100% believe James loved Rachel unconditionally even if his way of showing it was really fucked up, but the way parents treat each other impacts their kids whether they mean it to or not and his treatment of Rose impacted Rachel. And that’s where I guess she got her mindset of needing to be good at everything and wanting so desperately to escape so she didn’t have to be.

I also think that this is why she was so quick to believe James when he said Sera was her biological mother. Because it allowed her to sever that connection of how he treated Rose compared to how he treated her because they were no longer connected in her mind. And as messed up as it sounds, I think had she had the time to cool down and process it before going to track Sera down, it would have ultimately given her a bit of peace because even if it was only slightly, she would have been more confident in regards of her dad’s love for her. This goes without saying that I don’t think Sera was the piece Rachel felt she was missing. I think it was that resolution to the conflict of why James seemed to treat her well but not the woman she thought was her mum. Sera just happened to be the personification of that. It’s fucked up, but that’s just how I read it. I also want to say though, I hate how it was written that not one person said “Rose is your real mum too” or something of the sorts because damn it, that woman spent years raising Rachel which is the definition of a parent in my eyes.

Regardless of whether Sera or the resolve was the missing piece however, it wasn’t enough for Rachel. Because, and I hate to burst anyone’s bubble but, unfortunately the truth is not always a band aid that heals wounds. The damage had been done regardless or whether you told Rachel the truth or not. Hell, my guess is that she finds out regardless. And the thing is, for people like Rachel Amber, professional help isn’t always something that comes to mind or easy to access. You’d think it would be considering she’s from a wealthy family, but the truth is when you’re the girl who everything is going “right” for, few people ever want to help you without something in return or take your problems seriously, even psychologists themselves. Furthermore, she probably struggled with the fact she felt she had no reason to complain, something that could also be said for Before The Storm Nathan Prescott, and perhaps the reason they got close.

And that’s what Chloe offered Rachel. Sure, she also offered her a way out of town, but remember, Chloe doesn’t have that at the start of Before The Storm. All she had was herself, and that happened to be exactly what Rachel needed. Someone who didn’t see her as “Rachel Amber; HBIC, DA’s daughter, perfect person” but just “Rachel Amber, girl who wants to hang with me”. She offered a space where Rachel could be herself without expectation, assumptions or preconceptions of who she was. I mean Chloe romanticises it a lot just as Max and Chloe both romanticise their friendship partially due to Rachel’s popularity, but ultimately that’s how their friendship/relationship started; two people who needed somebody and were willing to give what the other person offered.

I will say that I think Rachel deliberately chose Chloe in part because she was separate from the other aspects of Rachel’s life as Chloe didn’t go to school often and only had one mutual friend (Steph) with Rachel, and it’s unclear just how close Steph and Chloe were. I also think that gave the relationship an unequal footing emotionally because even though Chloe clearly had people who cared about her (Joyce, Steph, Mikey and even arguably David), she was so caught up in the past that she didn’t realise that and Rachel would have had to see that at some point. Meanwhile, while they may not have given her the distraction she wanted, Rachel was adored by most people and could leave the relationship without question of being alone. And that imbalance backed Chloe into a corner to do what Rachel said on more than one occasion because as much as Chloe pretends otherwise, she’s terrified to be alone. Now I want to make it clear that I do not think Rachel ever INTENTIONALLY manipulated Chloe, but you can unintentionally manipulate someone and I think that happened quite a bit due to miscommunication through Rachel not realising and Chloe being too scared to bring it up. I also believe that Rachel realised just how big the support gap was later on in the relationship and that’s why when she realised she needed something Chloe couldn’t give her, she chose to cheat rather than leave Chloe because I honestly believe she still loved her, just realised things weren’t working. I am not saying that that’s the right decision at all because it’s not, but if that was the case I would understand why she did it that way.

As for why Amberprice fell apart, I think dependant on the “true” last choice in Before The Storm, it came down to 2 - 3 things. Firstly, as I said earlier. if the ending where Chloe does not tell Rachel is meant to be cannon, I believe Rachel finds out anyway and holds passive aggressive hostility towards Chloe for not being honest with her which ultimately causes arguments and distrust between them. If the ending where you tell her is meant to be cannon, I don’t think this plays a role. Secondly, I think Rachel slowly realised just how depressed Chloe was and how unadept she was to help Chloe 24/7. And because I know that someone is going to come at me saying that I’m trying to say that mentally ill people are a burden, I’m saying this now; I’m not but not everyone is in the right mind frame to help others in their issues, especially severe emotional ones, and given Rachel was barely staying afloat herself, I think it’s pretty safe to say she was not. And finally, I honestly think Chloe was the one who decided not to leave Arcadia Bay earlier. My honest to god guess would be seeing as we saw David get physical with Chloe during Life Is Strange, she honestly believed he would do the same to Joyce if she left. Now I’m not saying David would have because it can honestly be argued either way, but I think regardless, Chloe believed he would and that’s what kept her at the Bay.

Out of those, I think the last one played the biggest role. Remember when I said Rachel is too focused on the future and discontent with the present? That leads me to believe that as much as she loved Chloe, she couldn’t see a happy future with her in the Bay because the Bay was a sign of mediocrity and same old same old for Rachel. Honestly, if I had to guess Rachel’s moon sign, it’d be Capricorn just like me because the Leo/Capricorn (yes I know she was a cusp baby but I’m going with Leo for this) mix is one filled with ambition and the need to be universally recognised, neither of which was being fulfilled for Rachel in the Bay. The thing with ambition though is for it to ever be completely fulfilled, you need to make sacrifices, and often they come in the forms of loss of relationships. So when Rachel realised that Chloe was showing hesitation towards leaving the Bay at that point, she freaked, thinking Chloe may not ever leave and did what she could to find another way.

And that’s where Nathan, Frank and Jefferson comes in. My guess would be Nathan was her first pick, but she quickly learned that any power to leave lay with Sean and Nathan was not in the position to ask. At this point, while I do think she cared about him and sympathised with him not being able to get help, I think she moved on to Frank. In terms of whether she loved Frank, I think she did purely because he has her bracelet. I think at the start Nathan’s words rang true about how she was using him to get away and then drugs when she realised he wouldn’t leave in hopes that would be enough to hold her over until she could leave. And for a while, I think it and the fact she fell for Frank was. But then it reached a point where it wasn’t again. I do think at this point she reevaluated her life and expectations, broke up with Frank and tried to make it work with Chloe or even tried to make it work with Frank, but it just wasn’t enough.

The problem was, she wasn’t the only one who saw that. A certain new photography teacher who happened to be a psychopath did too, and he used it to his advantage. Quite frankly, out of all of Rachel’s relationships, Jefferson has always been the one I’ve thought she cared about the least. And that might be strange considering he’s heavily implied he was the one who “changed her life” but changing someone’s life doesn’t have to be romantic. I honestly believe that the change either was or at least started as Rachel realising Jefferson had an interest in her and finally believing she found her ticket out of Arcadia Bay. Like out of everyone in the game who liked Rachel, Jefferson had the motive and means to leave whenever he wanted and she knew that. I think she thought she was going to outplay him by sleeping with him and getting him to take her to San Francisco for that trip or even LA just for general purposes before chucking the deuces and calling Chloe to convince her to join her. The issue was Jefferson was one smarter. Regardless of if Nathan actually killed her or Jefferson did and lied about it, Rachel was a plaything for him, just like every other girl who was taken to the dark room and he would have eventually discarded her and killed her had she threaten to speak up.

And that’s the tragic thing about Rachel Amber. Because yes, she made some bad and selfish decisions, but ultimately she was a complex, hurting and yet ambitious human being who just wanted to find peace and happiness that she (wrongfully but still) felt so strongly could only be found in a future away from the Bay to the point she never fully found it with those she loved and who loved her in her present.

#life is strange #before the storm #rachel amber #amberprice #there's also some talk about Chloe and Max as individuals and loads on Rachel's relationship and why I think Amberprice fell apart

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fountainpenguin · 7 years

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I have quite a few ideas for fanfics and original stories, but I get so bogged down in worldbuilding and analysis that coming up with a plot for people to actually read is much more difficult. Given your extensive headcanons for "The Fairly OddParents", how do you manage it? How do you snap out of Worldbuilding Mode, get into Storywriting Mode and stay there long enough to accomplish anything?

That… is a good question. Well, let’s walk through this together. This is gonna be a VERY BIG one (over 10k words because I’m just that extra), full of behind-the-scenes tidbits for my fanfics, but nothing I’d call super interesting for those who aren’t writers, so feel free to skip this one~

TL;DR: I’m weird. I work best when I choose how to manage my time. Spring break? Time to draw and watch cartoons! But adjusting my schedule so I can do homework AND study AND talk with friends AND answer Tumblr Asks AND research AND write? I will stop procrastinating in an instant, because suddenly there’s no time to lollygag. Why do you think I created the Mikey askblog? I was balancing my time suspiciously well and it was legit having negative effects in my life. I needed to add more pressure to my plate to force myself to work. I’m bizarre. You gotta make the time and have the right environment, I guess!

How to Write More Good: It’s Getting Drafty In Here!

(AKA, Riddle giving general advice on writing early drafts!)

.:: STARTING WITH AN IDEA ::.

(+ Basic Worldbuilding and Character Design)

My first FOP ‘fic was Baby, You’re a Rich Man. It came to be because “School’s Out! The Musical” was (and still is) my favorite episode of the series. After rewatching it half a dozen times, a few things occurred to me:

H.P. and Sanderson were moving away from the sunset in the opening scene, towards Kansas.

Flappy Bob grew up in an orphanage in Dimmsdale, California.

H.P. and Sanderson couldn’t use magic during that opening scene.

It would be more rational for them to take Flappy Bob to Pixie World and get new wands than it would be to drive all the way back to California.

So, that’s how I got the basic idea of, “How did that caring for a baby on a magic-free road trip go?”. While my headcanon base was not as extensive as it is now, I had pinned down the Pixie Wolbachia headcanon. That gave me the starting point I needed to strive into writing this ‘fic with confidence.

As for where my worldbuilding came from in the first place, my personal preference was to break the mold I saw. For example, I chose to focus heavily on real-life insect biology and science in my fanwork. Here are a couple of worldbuilding questions to get your gears turning:

How does society feel about expressing emotions in public?

What are society’s views of marriage?

Bathing? Eating? Taking vacations?

Greeting one another? Holidays? Schooling? Calendars?

Work hours? Who has jobs? How many? How does one get a job?

Living with those you’re related to? Aren’t?

Addressing figures of high status?

Look for basic, “obvious” things that we do in our lives and twist them, and maybe make something that would startle us totally acceptable in your work. It sounds like you’ve made good progress, but I thought I’d toss some thoughts out there for anyone who wants to write, but is lacking ideas in this area.

When writing fanfics, I would ask yourself questions like:

How closely do I want to stick to canon?

My family used to have this giant bucket of honey that said on the side, “Nothing added, nothing taken away”. In my case, I stick as close to canon as possible, and try to act with a policy of “everything added, nothing taken away”. That’s my personal preference, and it makes things easy because, with a few exceptions, no one has to try to remember which episodes are canon in my work, or who is on good terms with who in an AU.

What plot holes will my story address, avoid, or answer?

As mentioned above, I was curious about how H.P. and Sanderson made it to California, why they picked Dimmsdale, and how a magic-free road trip for people who rely so heavily on magic might have gone down. I had the opportunity to explore character relationships and the magic system of the FOPverse.

What worldbuilding elements did canon give that I can expand on?

Wands, Pixies Inc., godchildren, memory wiping, other species, fantastic racism, pixies all looking alike, magical creatures getting drunk on candy and soda, Da Rules…

What is my take on Character A?

I see Sanderson as loyal and devoted; he’d sacrifice himself for H.P. and can’t be convinced to betray him. He craves recognition for this, and is desperate for H.P. to refer to him as his son. He doesn’t know why this is so important to him anymore, just that it’s always been something he wants. He’s also an envious sort who is bitter because he’s head of the complaints department and isn’t vice president of the company.

Someone else might see Sanderson as a suck-up who flatters H.P. beyond belief in the hopes of taking over someday. Or perhaps as a bumbling idiot who only keeps his job through nepotism. Or perhaps H.P. is grooming Sanderson to inherit the position of Head Pixie and treats him like a puppet for political reasons.

My works would be very different if any of these had been my angles. The great thing about headcanons is, we can all have our own!

How have A’s interactions with B changed from canon?

My Sanderson has separation anxiety. I based this off canon, because he always follows H.P. around despite having the lowly job of working in the complaints department. However, his separation anxiety isn’t confirmed by canon.

Someone could say he was only working in complaints in “Pixies Inc.” because the company was transitioning now that they’d bought out Fairy World, and that in reality he is (or was later promoted to be) the vice president, and I would support this interpretation even though it differs from my own.

Do I know how they speak?

I wanna write some “Bunsen Is a Beast” one-shots, but it’ll take some time for me to get a solid feel for these characters. To stay in character, you have to understand their background, vocabulary, facial expressions, body language, movement, eye contact, tics, what they do when they’re flustered or startled, how they laugh…

I fell in LOVE with BIaB’s use of hand gestures and body language, because FOP and DP always came off a little lacking in that area to me. Like. If there is any body part I find attractive, it’s hands and the way they move, just- Hhhhhh asdfjhslfsdfjs bury me in this JUST LOOK-

Keeping characters in character is the make-or-break point of enjoying fanfiction for me. I’ve read long ones that use (mostly) proper grammar, but disliked them because characters were OOC. Likewise, I’ve read pieces with less-than-stellar conventions, and loved them for the believable character portrayals. Sometimes I get lucky and manage to find something that scores high marks in both areas.

Some people don’t mind a little OOC-ness! But I don’t like it (Might be an author thing, being a writer of original works myself). I like fanfics that contain references to CANON DETAILS. Research. Thoughtfulness. Love and care. Expanding on what the creator brought to life, not twisting it so much that it seems like you wrote your OCs and are calling it fanfiction just so people read it.

I mean, I like the show because I like what canon gave me, right? I drool over characters like H.P., Youngblood, and Mikey because I sit there with my chin in my hands and think, “You are such a great character. I wish you could be my character. You are a dang fine character.” It just kinda bothers me when people stray too far from that (I totally support portrayals that differ from my own, but I do favor the guidelines of “everything added, nothing taken away”).

Speaking of characters, characters might change as you write more! Freaking Gavin certainly comes to mind.

My pixie character Longwood was going to be my serious fellow. He was written that way in every scene (of which there weren’t a lot for him yet). But then I wrote the “Solo” prompt (the proctoring of Rosencrantz’s latest placement test) before finishing Baby, You’re a Rich Man.

The very first scene to mention how much of a sucker he is for kisses was the “You have a lipstick stain beside your ear” line, and how Longwood’s hand flashes to the exact spot on his cheek. I was going to leave it at that. But then it slipped into Rich Man, and I couldn’t resist. It took off.

Not only did this end up influencing Origin, but it majorly affected Frayed Knots, Rich Man, and the 130 Prompts project. Bit of a flanderization, but he never lost his other traits (kleptomania, phobia of blood) and it’s unlocked so many wonderful opportunities and plot points.

The entire concept of gynes stemmed from around this, for example, as well as some conflict with Sanderson and H.P. (Longwood wanting to marry despite H.P. telling him not to, along with Longwood’s habit of trading company secrets in exchange for kisses). I can’t see him any other way.

Then Wilcox was going to be my serious character. He ended up with a physical addiction to shapeshifting, loves to be a rabbit, and now wants to marry a rabbit. Well.

Characters can change from your original plans for them. Let them go. It’s their story before it’s yours. The piece will almost certainly be better for it.

TIP: Don’t leave yourself sitting in front of a blank screen. Put something down. I usually keep a collection of town names on hand if nothing else, because I work MUCH better when there are words already there.

These notes have been sitting under the table of contents of Origin of the Pixies since the beginning. If you’re as familiar with my work as I am, you may notice that those four town names have never come up yet. I grew fond of them and wanted to save them for either a really good town, or for original projects.

Here are some other notes up there. The first one is a list of people who are immune to magic, as mentioned in “Crock Blocked” (though it’s supposed to be “new wave”, not “new way”). The second is a deleted line from “Rain Dance” that I really like, but haven’t been able to use yet.

Here are some notes from the beginning of Knots:

Use ‘in which’ subtitles

Maternity colonies

Group of huddling baby bats = creche

“It’s a bit dear” = It’s expensive

“I’ve got the right hump” = I’m irritated

“Plump for something more like…” = Use something more like…

“I’m easy” = I’m laid back; I don’t mind

“All right, darling?” = How do you do?

Chips = Crisps

French fries = Chips

Lift = Elevator

Using “You know what I mean?”

Knackered = Exhausted

Gutted = Broken up about

Gobsmacked = Completely shocked

“I cocked up” = I badly messed up

Blinding = Incredible

Cheers = Thanks

Ace = Expert at

A damp squib = A failure

Chunder = Throwing up; for drunken nights

“Oh, mate, that’s brilliant!”

Fortnight = Two weeks

“She gave me a real bollocking” = She scolded me

“Nice one, really” = Sort of sarcastic; “Great job” or “Nice going”

Dodgy = Not very good (Items / thoughts / actions / people)

Scrummy = Tastes very good

Kerfuffle = Skirmish

“That’s a load of tosh” or “Don’t talk tosh”

“He tried to skive off work” = Sluff

Yup! Stereotypical British slang I’ll probably play around with! I don’t plan to use all of it, and I don’t want to use them too much, but I jotted them down.

I also have a list of symptoms for the iris virus STD, but I don’t think that’s appropriate to share here. Here are some notes from my “Danny Phantom” ‘fic about Youngblood, No Anesthetic:

I used to have his sisters up there, before I moved them to an Excel file:

Excel and such can be a great tool for writers to keep their character notes. Stay organized. Once you get your notes written down, you can stop thinking about them so much (I’ll mention the brain’s response to saying “I can move on now that this is noted down” later in this post) and free up space in your head to think through stuff that hasn’t been finished (aka, the story).

The point of me showing all these is, this is something I always do. You just have to start somewhere. Don’t sit at a blank screen and procrastinate. You’ll get analysis paralysis. The first draft is supposed to be a DRAFT. It can change later. If your first draft is perfect, you have bigger problems to worry about, because you probably have magic powers and a world to save. Write more than you need to in this stage- figure out what to cut later.

Need ideas for what to jot down? Figure out more worldbuilding basics:

Where are people getting their food? Water? Shelter?

Social interaction?

Money?

Materials to do the job to get the money?

Books, toys, writing materials, entertainment?

Eating utensils?

Rights?

Addictions?

Love?

Pets?

What about your protagonist? Main personality traits? Quotes?

Family, alive and deceased? Family history? Heirlooms?

Neighbors?

Nervous habits? Embarrassing habits?

Things they’d lie about?

Things they’d never want anyone to know about them?

Deep dark fears?

Things they would share on their Tumblr blog?

I would easily be able to answer all of these for my FOP work, and several of them for my fantasy novel (currently nicknamed “Stars and Finches”) too.

Now, how can you hint at these things in your story? What happens if you take one of those away, or threaten to? Answering the question of “How would THIS character react?” is thrilling for me, and something that drives me from worldbuilding mode into writing mode.

We all know that it’s common for characters to not be mentioned as needing to go to the bathroom. But remember, your characters are mortal too (or, they’re not!) If they have needs, keep that in mind.

In the first draft of Rich Man (not the outline, but the actual draft), there was no mention of Sanderson being thirsty in the early chapters. I added it later because I realized how long he had gone without drinking in hot and dusty Kansas, so then we end up with these scenes:

Chap 1:

I pulled myself together, licking at my dry lips.

Oil dripped in silence, and I remembered how dry my mouth was, full of dust and maybe a bit of blood.

Chap 2:

Water. Water. Water! I hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up just in case I was wrong, but as I approached the small army of metal animals encircling the watering hole on Hole 8, I felt hope swell within me. I knelt between a hulking elephant and a slender zebra near the little wooden bridge. Hugging Flappy to me with one arm, bracing myself with the other, I drank until all the dirt and corn dust had washed from my mouth. It tasted like whipped cream. When I next licked my lips, actual wetness spread itself over the cracks.

Characters needing to meet their needs can be a great plot device if you’re groping for ideas! In fact, I said one time that my tip for overcoming writer’s block is as follows:

Your character is either hungry, thirsty, exhausted, second-guessing themselves, learning a new skill, overcoming a naturally-formed or man-made obstacle, or that really great plot point you’re excited for is coming up next and it’s time to dialogue your way in that direction. Rinse and repeat.

(On the subject of writer’s block, I sometimes record myself reading the dialogue I’ve already written. Bonus points if you can get the voices right, though I sometimes find it difficult to switch between multiple ones. If you can get really into it and carry on a long conversation with yourself, perhaps you can transcribe some of what you say to your writing.)

.:: THE FIRST OUTLINE ::.

Confession time: I’m not awesome at plots myself (That’s why I tend to write long, drawn-out pieces, because the plot then becomes “development and discovery”). But Rich Man’s road trip idea came with a built-in plot. It was supposed to be pretty quick and done.

Like. A sixteen-page long one-shot. Not an 85,000-word novel. So, what I did was, I just started writing and let the story unfold as I went. This is what I knew was going to happen:

H.P. and Sanderson find Flappy in the cornfield

Sanderson gets shot in the wing so he can’t fly for the rest of the story; the stakes have been upped because his ability to escape is limited.

Sanderson and H.P. get separated in the field and Sanderson panics because of his separation anxiety. He tips over the edge and H.P. scolds him for this when they meet up again.

Everyone goes to the minigolf course. H.P. puts Sandy in charge while he plays golf by himself. Sandy is torn between staying at the course or leaving for food, because he and Flappy are hungry. He also ends up losing Flappy, but he’s found again later.

In the morning, everyone leaves and they get back in the car and start searching for food. Flappy needs baby supplies.

H.P. and Sanderson disguise themselves with a trench coat or something from the back of their truck and get supplies from a gas station. While outside the station, they get backed into a corner. Sanderson ends up running inside the station with Flappy while H.P. got caught and dragged off.

Sanderson tries to balance Flappy’s needs with figuring out where H.P. is and how to rescue him. He feels alone and miserable, but eventually he manages to reunite with H.P. somehow.

H.P. and Sanderson make it to the base of the Pixie World Bridge just as it starts to rain, and manage to get Flappy above the clouds, and arrive in Pixie World to dry off.

In the conference room, H.P. explains the loose outline for his plans, and Sanderson is put in charge of watching Flappy for the night.

Now, anyone who’s read Rich Man will realize instantly that something is very wrong. This doesn’t look much like the finished project. Where are Eunice and Quincy? Where’s the candy and the fence? Where’s Anti-Naelita? What happened to the soccer field? Jorgen? The sugar bar? The will o’ the wisps?

Simple: my outline was loose enough to give me wiggle room. Some writers prefer a strict outline, but I’m not one of them. You might not be either.

As you can see, I had a decent outline here. I had a good starting point, even if it was rough and many details were fuzzy. I got to this point by first marking general notes, and then asking questions and adding more notes:

I need to get from the cornfield to Pixie World.

What is the cornfield like? What time of day is it? What’s around? Who’s around?

What happened to the guy they hit with their truck when they spun into the corn? And how much did the collision / spin / impact jostle them?

How are they going to take care of Flappy?

They don’t have magic.

A baby will need to be fed and changed

There’s no way they have baby supplies in their truck

Where and how will they get supplies? How will they get the supplies to get the supplies? Who will they meet when they get it? What are the dangers?

I want H.P. and Sanderson to get separated.

How can we up the stakes?

I can take Sandy’s ability to fly, and discuss the ways magical creatures can die, and put Sandy in or near those situations so we can see him fret

Even if the audience knows that the main character survives (especially when writing backstories), the writer should strive to keep them on their toes with physical and emotional dangers

I love the idea of Sanderson having separation anxiety, so I’d like some of the focus on the story to be on that

I should foreshadow this by separating them in the cornfield for a short period of time.

What happens to Flappy when they separate?

How does H.P. take care of Flappy vs. how Sanderson takes care of him? Who is more capable: H.P. who has much more experience but is strict, or Sanderson who is more compassionate but makes many mistakes?

How do they get back together?

An injured wasp releases pheromones. I based pixies off wasps. I could do something with this.

I like the idea of Sanderson putting himself in harm’s way to trigger his pheromones, because it drives home how desperate and lost he is.

What’s my end goal? Why am I writing this?

I want to share my portrayal of these characters that I like, and maybe others will like these portrayals and characters too.

I’m interested in exploring the worldbuilding and magic system, and trying to bring all the scattered bits of canon that seem to conflict into a single consistent magic system with strengths and flaws.

There’s not a real moral here, or at least not a good one. It’s just sort of slice-of-life, and shows how much H.P. means to Sanderson compared to what Sanderson means to H.P., and just sketch an idea as to what their overarching relationship is.

I wanted to point out the Kansas/California disconnect and play around with a magic-free road trip.

This was enough for me to get started. Just keep asking and answering questions! At this point, I had no other ‘fics to refer to, so I threw in worldbuilding as I went along (Hint: Reference past experiences that helped one grow or made someone nervous. Compare things to something that belongs specifically in this world when describing colors, expressions, body language, or facial features. What reminds a character of their past? How can you make those things related to your ideas or to canon worldbuilding?).

I made things up as I went along, and tried to slip in worldbuilding:

What’s so special about this minigolf course?

Apparently Sanderson was born here

What was H.P.’s life like back then?

What is the course decorated like? Why?

I really wanted the tree Sandy climbs to be a maple. But how did a maple end up in Kansas? Hmm.

As adorable as being born at the golf course would be, how does that work with the time differences?

How the Big Wand works

How magical creatures breathe

Lines can get tangled

What wand providers do

Undoing magic (reversal fluid and signature codes)

Limitations on magic

Why wands are important

How wands work

In a magical sense

In a physical sense

Legal jazz and paperwork junk

Magic lines

Magic doesn’t work well in poor weather conditions

Tingle-fritziness

Snapping lines

How do babies get lines?

Tying lines

Three is preferred; too many or two few can compromise one’s health.

Magic dust

Non-magic users see what they expect to see if there is magical residue around (basically sweat; aka fairy dust)

Healing

Ability to fly

The energy field

Field-sight

Species variations

Magical politics

Mind wiping

Fantastic racism

Rules about interfering with neutral / evil parties on Earth

Court cases

Anti-Pixie society

Sanderson is reserved, likes singing, and is loyal to H.P., but Anti-Sanderson is boisterous, likes dancing, and usurped H.P.’s counterpart

What even was the previous 37-year plan anyway?

And how important? What did the Fairies think of it? Anti-Fairies?

Sanderson hates it when girls flirt with him when he’s just trying to fix the copy machine; it’s distracting and confusing

Inspiration back-up is maybe a thing? This is a really iffy subject

How did the Pixies become involved with Gary and Betty? Why THEM?

Sanderson is taking care of them because he grew fond of their parents after meeting them in this ‘fic. When the plan called for more human children to raise, Sanderson knew who to look into.

Sanderson is not company vice president, and is bitter rivals with the pixie who is

Who gives pixies milk? Foster mothers

Who was Sanderson’s milkmother? How did H.P. meet her? Does Sanderson remember her? Why isn’t she still around? Did she have kids? Are they his siblings? Why aren’t they around?

… Basically, if you have the choice between slipping in a world-building detail or falling back on an old cliche, the former is probably the better way to go. Of course, I myself hit a snag when I couldn’t figure out what Sanderson would know about H.P.’s past, so I started to develop Origin of the Pixies seriously.

Write the stuff you’ve already come up with. Try to see things from the perspective of someone who can’t see the inner workings of your head:

Is your logic sound?

Do you contradict yourself?

Do you think you’ve avoided plot holes?

Are your explanations confusing?

What questions might people ask? How would you answer them?

What if this story was written with different characters?

How would they try solving their problems? What would they know? Why DON’T the characters you chose to use react that way?

My advice is, don’t be stubborn with your outline. Be flexible. I mean, look at this note I added to Rich Man 8 when I originally posted it on deviantArt:

Idona’s presence, I think, might be worth a little explanation. First things first, I would like to throw out that I did not invent an OC to ship Sanderson with because I find romance necessary. I’m really not much of a shipper in general. This was always supposed to be a story about Sanderson, his boss, and a baby clown. So if you’re anything like me, you can breathe again.

[…] Idona was not supposed to be in this story. She isn’t in my original outline whatsoever. Even when I started thinking I might have Sanderson run across a will o’ the wisp, I was going to use one of the random ones. Literally anybody but Idona, because knowing her the way I’ve learned to [from writing Origin of the Pixies], there is no way she wouldn’t bring up romance, and I didn’t want that to even be a question in this story.Problem being that if we’re perfectly honest, based on Origin of the Pixies canon, most wisps would have either A) confused him with Longwood and attacked out of frustration (and I was really done with Sanderson getting physically beat on), or the more likely B) smothered him in kisses and such right then and there, O'Weskar v. Pixies Inc. notwithstanding, seeing as they know they have the time to have their way with him before he dies. And no way was I going that far. Either I had to change Origin of the Pixies, I had to invent pointless new wisp characters and introduce plot holes, or I had to adjust a scene in Baby, You’re a Rich Man that I wasn’t happy with.Using Idona surprisingly led me to the least possible romance and the best balance of sanity, if that makes any sense. Because she’s the only one who would ever see him as a person and respect his refusal, and not just take advantage of him. And I got to show Sanderson doubling back in desperate search of the only wisp he actually dislikes rather than has more neutral feelings towards. That was nice. Not that… it means much to you all, not having read Origin of the Pixies yet. So, yes, I’m entirely aware that this scene probably still seems out of place with the rest of the story, but I assure you, every word Idona says, her fascination with Sanderson in particular, and the fact that wisp damsels come out in the rain nowadays makes complete sense. And, for those of you who actually were itching for romance, take this and sit tight. Next time we’ll talk with Longwood and someone’s gonna get busted.So if Idona weren’t here at all then their conversation would have been replaced with more of Sanderson’s rambling which, while it was my first intention, did not go as well as I hoped. It really went on for about ten pages and I kind of. Pushed him. Over the brink of reality and had to start over. There was a lot of grass-eating involved. I had to stop when I ran him into the ground because I had little choice but to make Jardine stumble across him while he got his dirt, and that rang like a cop-out. It was all much too OOC even for my take on Sanderson, I realized when I sat back and took a second look. So now you get Idona and I’m 100% certain the story is better for it. It did fix a major plothole in a later scene, after all.

This is just what, after twelve years of trial and error, seems to work very well for me. Some people might be driven crazy by an outline that said, “I don’t know how they meet up again, but I’ll figure that out when I get there”.

Personally, I let the characters guide me. If you’ve read Rich Man, you know that Sanderson is actually the one who gets captured, and that he ends up bonding a bit with Thomas over music. I came up with that love of music idea when I reached that scene.

That’s what works! Alternatively, if I were more of a planner, I could have drawn up a character sheet for Thomas in advance, and I might have written, say… “Flattery is the way to his heart”, and gone into the scene with that character detail in mind, and Sanderson could have flattered his way out.

In the latest chapter of Origin, I had the scene where Sanderson hugs the yoo-doo doll and the scene where H.P. stabs the arrow into it written out months ago, but I didn’t figure out where or how they got the dolls (or who was guarding them) until I actually made it to that section of the chapter.

Just remember: Better to have a rough draft than nothing at all! If you feel paralyzed, start asking questions and trying to decide how you can answer them in your piece without infodumping too much! Unless you infodump the way I did when Sanderson went on his rant(s) in Chapter 1, I guess?

.:: FIRST WORDS ::.

Okay, let’s back it up. We’re pretty far into this post now, and yet the first thing I ever do when actually writing a story is, throw down all the scene snippets I’ve been keeping in my head before creating the document.

Ex: In Frayed Knots, here’s one scene I scribbled downvery early-

The glimmering of her translucent wings cast rainbows across the squares of light leaking over the otherwise dark floor. My core twisted in a knot. I covered my mouth and nose with my fingers, choking on literal butterflies because the sight was so sickeningly pretty and good and pure that it made my head spin and the blood thump in my neck. It went against every Anti-Fairy instinct, every Anti-Fairy cultural norm, every Anti-Fairy schooling lesson, every Anti-Fairy wands and wings talk-

And I liked it.

Wanda placed her hand to my forehead. “Are you all right? Your face is flushed purple, but your forehead doesn’t seem overly cold.”

- and I moved from stuff like that onto the next chunk, which was writing the scenes that appear in both Knots and Origin from the viewpoints of Anti-Cosmo and H.P., respectively, and making them each distinct. For example-

Origin-

Against his best efforts, Anti-Cosmo pulled a more amusing face than he would ever admit to and handed me back my mug. “Blimey! I really don’t know how you can drink this putrid stuff all day, old sport.”

I slid his tea cup and saucer across my desk with the end of my pen. “And I will never see the appeal of this sickly sweet water, either. I can hardly function without my morning coffee dose.”

“All the more reason we should align forces, I think. The coffee is yours, but all the tea in the universe shall be mine. Ahahaha!”

“And the sugar?”

My door exploded open as Anti-Cosmo was working through his, “I say we split the difference”. He yelped and dropped the cup he had just picked up, and it spilled steaming tea all over his lap. Brown dots splattered across the papers on the desk between us.

“Sanderson,” I said, trying not to focus on the bead of sweat creeping down my forehead. “This is definitely not a good time to make a fool of yourself.”

He surveyed the situation fast and pinged up a handful of small towels for Anti-Cosmo. To me, “Longwood and Smitty are trying to kill each other down in the food court.”

“Oh, blitz.” I shoved my chair backwards and pushed past the anti-fairy. At the door, I turned back to him. “I would suggest you remain here, Anti-Cosmo. For your own safety.”

“My own safety?” he repeated, utterly perplexed. He had his handkerchief balled in his blue hand, even though tea was still splattered across his prim shirt and dark pants. His green eyes narrowed with glinting suspicion. “I’m not certain this isn’t a clever attempt at a trap, H.P.”

Knots-

I fiddled with my wand beneath the edge of his desk. I’d seen what that stuff did to him the morning after we’d spent that night together during the war. “Hot drinks don’t appeal so much to anti-entities.”

“Just taste it, tea-drinker,” he coaxed.

So I did. It stung the cuts along the roof of my mouth, just as I’d expected to, but I did not spit my swallow out, and I’m very proud of that. “Blimey,” I said mildly as I lowered it. Struggling to maintain an even expression, I passed back his mug. “I really don’t know how you can drink this putrid stuff all day, old sport.”

“And I will never see the appeal of this sickly sweet water, either,” he said as he returned my teacup. “I can hardly function without my morning coffee dose.”

I smiled and lifted that softly-steaming cup of sweetness to my nose. “All the more reason we should align forces, I think. The coffee is yours, but all the tea in the universe shall be mine!” My proposal ended in a small cackle.

He tilted his head. “And the sugar?”

“I say we split the difference.”

The door burst before I finished. Tea spilled down my shirt and over my legs. I flinched and probably let slip a squeal as I grabbed at the insides of my coat. The Head Pixie’s face bled into mortified white.

“Sanderson, this is definitely not a good time to make a fool of yourself.”

I rotated my chair partway around, squeezing the wet front of my shirt in my fist. The flustered pixie kept one hand pressed to his hair, but he spared me a fleeting glance. As he pinged up an unsteady stack of gray towels above my head, he blurted, “Longwood and Smitty are trying to kill each other down in the food court.”

Spitting unprofessional curses, the Head Pixie launched himself over his desk, caught his foot on the edge, tripped, and slammed hard into the ground beside my feet. He scrambled up again and flew through his door. Then he poked his head back in. “I would suggest you remain here, Anti-Cosmo. For your own safety.”

I cocked my ears forward. “My own safety? I’m not certain this isn’t a clever attempt at a trap, H.P.”

Of course, I guess you don’t really have that luxury, huh? Having another story to refer to? So sharing these blocks was kind of pointless.

Some scenes may get cut. Even ones that you thought you liked. If you’re a writer, I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “Kill your darlings” before.

That’s especially the case when trying to publish, as you’re bound to a certain length. Fanfiction is nice because you can be as long as you want. But still, I would advise you, if something’s not working? It’s hurting. Drop it. Keep only scenes that contribute.

Could I have written several more chapters in Origin about H.P.’s life in Kalysta’s burrow? Heck yes. Could I have written about the years he spent as a servant / butler to Cattahan? Definitely. But they disrupted the flow, and really, the audience didn’t need them. Wield the timeskip wisely.

.:: DIVIDE AND CONQUER ::.

Okay, so you know I scribble down what I can think of at the time, right? What if I don’t know a detail? Should I stop and work it out? Spend an hour or two researching right then and there?

Nah. I throw down an underscore and keep moving. Later, I can use the search feature to show me all the underscores and fill them in during the second draft, when I have more time for fact-checking like that.

This is my favorite example of the underscores, from the “Think Positive” prompt, because every time I find this scene again it just makes me snort:

“-pixies over the millennia. Surely you can loan me some advice to raising mine? I don’t know the first thing about raising a child. I’ve never held a pup in my life.”

The Head Pixie scratched his chin. “Aren’t you Mr. Genie Conservation Program?”

“_.”

“Right. _.”

Anti-Cosmo shoved back his seat and lifted his wings. “_?”

“_,” he said as he took another sip of soda.

“_.”

“Wasn’t that the very first thing I said?”

“But do you even know how Anti-Fairy rrreproduction works?”

The most interesting conversation.

Anyway, I knew that I wanted these two to bounce off one another. I knew A.C. was acting high-strung, and H.P. was more relaxed. I wrote everything for this prompt that I could think of at the time one night. It’s been sitting around waiting for me to finish it, which I haven’t yet because there were other prompts I wanted to get to first.

I do the same thing with Origin. Heck, I even do the same thing when writing school assignments-

I even did it when writing this post! What I know, I pen down while I’m in the flow. Once you get the outlines of the puzzle down, you can go back and fill in the gaps!

Just for fun, because I work on other projects besides fanfics, here’s me doing the same thing in “Stars and Finches”:

“We’ll have to turn back. The waves are picking up.”

From the upper deck, I called, “Can’t you use magic to make it fly?”

She squinted at me. Then she squinted at _. The _ came out of her mouth. “Does this elfblood even know how _ships work?”

“I’m Allard Krindan.”

“And I’m annoyed.” She made the six-fingered Sikhorian hand gesture for “You’re not worth my time” and marched off. I folded back my ears and stared after her. Were all the Sikhorians going to treat me with such blatant disrespect?

“Listen, kid.” _ put his arm around me. “Ever wonder why no one steers the _ships across the mountains even though _they’re capable of traveling over land?”

“That never came up in my ambassador-in-training lessons, no.”

“Ambassador, huh?” His eye roamed to me as he popped the _ in his mouth. “Well, _. That’s why it’s so important to have the canal.”

This is a very rough draft I haven’t looked at for a bit because fanfics have been sapping up my attention. But my parents and I agreed that for my “summer job”, they’ll let me write, as long as I’m writing like it’s my job. So, I’ll become more scarce around that time as I try to finish my original novel

I think I’ll scrap the idea of the ships hovering over land. That seems too easy. They’ll stick to the water, I guess. Hmm…

.:: TABLE OF CONTENTS ::.

Unless I’m writing a one-shot or something else that’s relatively short, I always keep a table of contents at the beginning of a piece (I didn’t create one for No Anesthetic, but I left my entire first draft outline up there, even though it’s already drastically different from the way the final piece has been going). As I complete each chapter, I scratch it off with the strikeout tool.

As you can see, I’ve now finished with Acts 1 and 2. Origin got so big that it was taking the Google Docs app on my phone a painfully long time to load the story, so the second list is in my second document, and the third in the third. The asterisks symbolize the four different Acts-

Act 1: The transition from H.P. living on his own to officially accepting Sanderson

Act 2: H.P. struggling with questions, lifestyle choices, and little kids; being abducted by the cherubs and studied

Act 3: The development of Pixie World, the war over godchildren, the study of the Wolbachia bacteria, and the aftermath of the war

Act 4: Tying up loose ends; H.P. dealing with his pixies growing up and aging himself

This table of contents is pretty important to me, since I tend to write scenes as I think of them and jump up and down the story. This list helps me keep my facts straight (although tbh I can keep 99.99% of the order, mood, and timeframe of scenes straight in my head because that’s just the way I am. I can accurately keep track of hundreds of characters without double-checking their info constantly. Can I recognize somebody new in my life that I was introduced to the day before? No).

I have the kind of personality that enjoys completing things for the sake of completing them, so scratching them off is very reinforcing to me. Look how much I’ve done! Origin of the Pixies is easily the longest FOP fanfic on the Internet, and only halfway done! I did this! Isn’t that awesome? I wanna finish this puppy! I’ve poured so much of my love and time into it!

Here’s a snippet of the table from my Total Drama fanfic, The Lyin’ Queen:

The chapters are all named after Simple Plan songs as a reference to Staci listing her favorite band as Simple Flan. In this table, you can see I have small notes next to each chapter. That can be helpful too! Origin actually had notes like this back before I memorized what happens in which chapter.

Now, remember that I noted down everything I could think of. To create the table of contents, I calculated in my head where in the story I wanted things to fall (hence the notes in parentheses), and where I envisioned chapter breaks. In Knots, for example, my chapters are divided like this:

I picked this part of Knots rather than Origin because you can see that “Grand Day Out” has nothing in it yet (whereas all my Origin chapters have more content). However, I know that it exists. I went ahead and wrote it there so I wouldn’t forget; when I’m in the mood to write the ceremonial send-off scene or anything else about the upper planes of the Deep Kingdom, then I’ll scroll down to this section of the document and add it in. “Pretty Boys”, though, already has quite a few scenes written already!

Fun Fact: The Faelumen were originally designed to exist in Knots alone, and weren’t mentioned at all in Origin. It was supposed to be a big, fun surprise reveal… but after I wrote some scenes with Dame Head, I loved her too much. Plus, I thought it was something I should talk about with the whole “pixies reproduce asexually thing”, and answer the questions about why she wasn’t in Origin when Anti-Fergus was. Then the religion thing happened… Yep!

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog and Origin, you know that I unexpectedly split “Fruitful Fruition” in half to create “Snowflake”, even though the latter wasn’t in my outline. That’s okay! This is why I like to write as I go along rather than planning out too many details. It’s easy to be flexible!

TIP: Generally speaking, I write rough draft scenes as I think them up. They stay that way as rough drafts; I don’t worry about them too much. They’re full of underscores, and even in some cases, blatant mistakes.

Originally, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda had their first kiss upside down in a tree. The draft scene is written that way. Now it’s in a petting zoo, because really, why would you not?

Point being, there are still several references later in the story about them being in a tree that I haven’t yet corrected. I’ll do that when I actually write the chapter from start to finish and decide what to cut.

When I really sit down to write the story, though, I go in order. From the start of the chapter, with maybe a few pops forward when something comes to mind, but mostly, I go in order.

Otherwise, you might have a great scene, but it doesn’t fit the flow or mood of the story, or - worse - something came up and now the scene doesn’t make sense at all, after you put in so much effort.

If I’m in the mood to write a scene, I make time to pen the draft down as soon as possible. I do NOT say, “I’ll just hang onto that thought and write it all when I get there”. Use it or lose it!

At this time, Knots has all the scenes loosely written that I first thought of (bringing the document to approximately 200 pages). These are main scenes: conflicts with Mom, coming-of-age ceremony, Wish Fixers therapy, lots of Anti-Wanda stuff, basically all the Anti-Sanderson stuff, scenes from the war…

The next goal is finishing my outline and how I want to pace things / jump around, then figuring out the drafts for main scenes I haven’t finished yet (the opening scene, A.C.’s wedding, Anti-Bryndin, more war stuff, the bake-off, etc.) Once those main roughs are done, I’ll start writing the final version of Chapter 1, and eventually post it! Then I’ll begin work on the final version of Chapter 2, with occasional pauses to add more draft scenes later in the story if I think one up.

.:: MOTIVATION ::.

Aside from scratching off chapters being reinforcing, talking about my work on this blog helps a lot too. Although no chapters have been posted, I can’t very well back out of Frayed Knots; you know too much and I won’t make a liar out of myself now. It might take me weeks or months, but I’ll get to it!

NOTE: Revealing TOO MUCH can be severely detrimental! You may trigger your brain’s response that, “Oh, I talked about this thing? I shared it, my task is complete, I can be satisfied and stop now”. You may notice I try to only share stuff from Knots that I’ve already written, and keep my lip buttoned on stuff that’s still up in the air.

For some people, something as simple as crossing a chapter off their list may not be satisfying enough. You could always reward yourself with a bit of ice cream or candy or another treat, say, if you finish a chapter, or if you wrote a certain amount of words each day. I usually reward myself with more writing.

The NaNoWriMo community has been very supportive to me in the three years I’ve participated in National Novel Writing Month (the goal being to write 50,000 words between November 1st and November 30th).

On that site, when you make an account and sign up for the event each November, you get a purple bar underneath your username. It announces how many words you’ve written so far. If you write just 1,667 words a day, you’ll reach 50,000 by the 30th this post is almost six times that oh my gosh.

Again, being able to update my wordcount and see how well I was keeping on track was very rewarding to me, and I’ve met the 50k count for 3/3 NaNovels (Courtesy, Silverfish, and Protagonist For Hire, which amazingly somehow got its 50,000 but is very poorly written and not close to done)!

You can also win promotional codes and stuff. I got five free self-published copies of my 2012 novel Courtesy of Number 124 when I finished and formatted them, among other benefits! It depends on the year, I think!

Again, I like completing things. I like HAVING things. After many hours of searching the web, I was disappointed in the lack of Pixie ‘fics. Although there were some, it wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want Pixies putting another 37-year-plan into action, or getting revenge on Timmy. I wanted serious backstory.

As previously mentioned, by establishing that H.P. had written Origin, I was at a risk for writing Sanderson as dumb for not knowing something H.P. had mentioned in his book. Sanderson has read and studied Origin extensively, so I had to make sure he didn’t “conveniently” forget a fact he should know, and when writing Origin, I have to make sure not to contradict Sanderson, or give the answers to anything he stated in Rich Man that he doesn’t know

Fact: In the Origin Act 2 finale, I used “breathed” as a said tag for the first time in this story. One of the underlying things in Rich Man was, Sanderson didn’t fully grasp the concepts of how humans breathe. The word “breathe” doesn’t come up much in Rich Man, until the closing lines, like “He never stopped breathing”. I have been IN PAIN not using “breathed”, so I finally bit the bullet because forget this.

And of course, as a result, that means H.P. shouldn’t have taught him anything about humans breathing. This I… slightly retconned, because breathing turned out to be more important for Origin than I had previously expected.

Though, in Rich Man, Sanderson never explicitly says he doesn’t know what breathing is (Obviously he has to know, considering he finally said the word). It’s just, I was subtly trying to hint in Rich Man that he truly recognized the nature of his own self - a being who could technically be called half mortal, half immortal - at the same time he began to understand Flappy’s human nature.

ANYWAY, figure out how you’re motivated and then play to your own wants and needs! Passion and a love of the work is arguably the best way to be, because it’s simple. But if praise is reinforcing to you? Share what you’ve done with me, and I’ll give you many pats on the back!

That… would have been the only three sentences required to answer this Ask, but I wrote this giant post instead. YOU KNOW WHO I AM, DENISE!

.:: OTHER WRITING ADVICE B/C IDK WHY NOT? ::.

You’re writing for two audiences

The first is of course your readers. That’s the easy answer. But, you ought to love what you’re doing. The second audience you write for is yourself. What have you always wanted to write, but haven’t gotten around to?

For me, I love extravagant coming of age ceremonies! I’ll take any excuse to dress characters up in something they wouldn’t normally wear, force them to participate in things they otherwise wouldn’t, or shove them in a situation where they’re horribly embarrassed but can’t escape.

And, I love inventing fantasy religions! Religious beliefs can be huge motivators for characters that can explain being “out of character”. Take advantage of this!

For a third example, Origin of the Pixies gave me the chance to write about marsupial pouches and the embarrassment of one’s offspring crawling into said pouch while in public. That’s been a joy from start to finish.

Write the scenes you “can’t afford” to write

Well, uh… so, here’s a little secret I was never planning to share… I’ve written make-out scenes and yes, even some more intimate scenes while working on Origin and Knots. They’ll just never appear, and you’ll never get to read them. It’s not something I EVER would have done just a year ago, and yet here I am.

I am a sex-repulsed aromantic asexual. I have no business nosing my way into this area. And yet I did. And it was very interesting.

I was mostly curious to see how well my skills held up trying to describe scenarios I know little about, and it turns out that mostly, they held up extremely well! I think. It’s kind of refreshing to just let yourself write and know that no one will ever judge you on it.

Obviously, don’t write something that makes you uncomfortable just because I said here that it’s something that helps me in my writing.

Really, I didn’t focus so much on writing intimate scenes per se so much as the situations that led up to them (BOY, let me tell you how many of these “sex” scenes I have with a bunch of flirtation and set-up, and then they just… go blank, because I already had all I needed to know about how the characters would act when being romantic in private). Situations are really interesting. Emotions, dialogue, lack of one or both… Different people act in different ways.

I have H.P.’s kissing scene under the stairs with a random girl, squished between four other couples, from the party in Chapter 4- That one was REALLY fun, and recently I ended up recycling most of that scene as a sort-of flashback early in Origin Act 3 (loosely down as falling in “Cotton Candy Oatmeal”). Very teenager-y and full of hormones, which was the point. Seriously, that scene came out SO DANG WELL, and I’m very proud of my aro/ace un-kissed self. Oh man, I’ve written so many nice behind-the-scenes scenes full of character fleshing that I wish I could share.

I have Ambrosine and Ilisa Maddington (Ambrosine admiring her shampoo and giant white bathtub is adorable to me, for some reason). For crying out loud, I even wrote “‘Stars and Finches’ AU where most everything’s the same in this scene but Gavin and Ethel try to be flirty b/c I need to know how they act for research” Answer: They are super, super clueless and awkward and in this AU they DEVASTATE their relationship this way it’s so hilarious to me because “Let’s shatter these two emotionally” generally isn’t what you’d expect to get out of “AU where this story has romance / making out and jazz in it”.

Idk this is just really fascinating to me? I can still keep them 100% in character even in situations they wouldn’t normally find themselves in? I’ve explored their personalities just to understand them better, not to impress readers? I love it!

SO! The reason I wrote these things is simple: Character fleshing. You’re the author! Characters’ personal lives are completely your business. It might help to know how these people act when the audience isn’t supposed to be watching- and then draw inspiration from that to use in the actual story.

Case in point: One thing that absolutely shocked me was the way cute and sweet China acts behind closed doors. Freaking China. Apparently she’s really nice and casual by day, but she’s super specific at night, and will pitch a fit if things don’t go her way. She guilts the heck out of H.P. It’s her little way of getting control, being a selkie…

Basically, she did a 180-flip in my mind after I wrote the dialogue exchange and narrative reflecting on their relationship, and I loved it. Almost all of the lines from those few paragraphs ended up in Origin.

And given how many relationships H.P. makes and breaks over the 700,000 years this story covers, going behind the scenes this way allows me to compare and contrast his girls. Whereas China is specific and decides when they sleep together, Kalysta is easy-going just as long as he’s there. Very, very interesting and very fun for me!

Of course, don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable doing. But maybe break out of your comfort zone and write scenes that will never make it into the story. Not just kissy-kissy scenes, but other scenes too:

Those shady deals behind the best friend’s back

The moment the villain realizes someone’s out to stop her

Midnight snacks

Doctor and dentist appointments

Birthday celebrations

What happens when they’re out of their favorite breakfast

Being stuck in traffic / going to work

Relatives coming to visit

Grocery shopping

A situation where they are the only one stressed

Trying a new recipe

Cleaning the house

Ordering at a fancy restaurant

Ordering from a drive-thru

First cruise vacation

Service for a friend or stranger

Multitasking (TV, phone conversation, and food?)

Big homework assignments

Interview / performance review

Visiting a museum

Going to the pool / waterpark on a hot day

Visiting a sick friend or relative

Attending a funeral (for someone they either know well, or don’t)

Take your kid to work day

Caught in the act of an embarrassing habit

Accidentally set something on fire

Can’t find an item (either dumb or important)

What happens during timeskips

Before the story begins

After it comes to a close

Stuff that happens in daily life, but the reader doesn’t need to know because it doesn’t add enough to the story. Or, maybe some of these will turn out to be crucial, and you can work them in. Writing about what your character sees in a museum is a great way to worldbuild, and then you can sneak hints of what you learn from writing that prompt into the actual finished work. Hint at a world that keeps getting deeper. Treat yo’self- you might just be surprised.

… I realize that we’re straying from the original topic, but I’m on a roll here. Hmm. I’ll make a separate prompt list for all of these things and post it later.

Google Docs is a good way to go

Google Docs is free to use, the only stipulation being that you need a gmail account, I think. If you have an iPhone or something, download the Google Docs app. It’s free too.

Whatever you write on one will sync to other devices automatically. Take advantage of this and, if you’re not socializing or keeping an eye on your surroundings otherwise, write everywhere. Write when you’re a passenger on the bus, write between class changes, write while you’re eating with the other hand, and if you have enough self-control to still get to sleep on time, you can keep it beside your bed.

I’ve only had Docs crash on me once in two+ years, and since it saves automatically as you work anyway (and saves your past edits), I didn’t lose anything. I used WordPerfect for almost a decade, I’ve often used Microsoft Word for school papers, and I have Scrivener, but Google Docs is my favorite to write with because I can walk up to any computer, log in, and access my 85+ files in an instant. Dropbox syncing used to take HOURS back in the day.

(The one thing I might mention is that if I remember correctly, the Google Docs app is extremely hard to log out of on the iPhone, if there is even an option. It’s been some time since I checked, however, but may be something to keep in mind for those who share phones with people they’d be embarrassed to have reading their work.)

Take your time

Seriously, timing is everything. I could name numerous pieces that would have been vastly different had I submitted them as soon as I thought they were ready. It was seven months after I “finished” “Bells and Whistles” before I was able to post it, and it changed a surprising amount after all those revisions!

It’s okay not to have your worldbuilding fully worked out when you start. In fact, I’d even say it’s better that way! When you worldbuild as you go, you’re truly immersed in the world and the work!

And lastly?

Find the good in everything, and accept the bad along with it. You gotta, bro.

Don’t compare yourself to other writers. You’re all working to entertain and have fun. It’s not a competition- you’re just here to be better than yesterday. Look to other writers to study and admire and learn from, but don’t let their years of hard work make you feel less about your years of hard work.

Hope I helped ya, and thanks for asking for my advice! Keep me posted on how your work goes!

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mikeyd1986 · 6 years

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 120, September 2018

The challenge of writing about my feelings towards Father’s Day is to not make it sound like a depressing sob story but it most likely will come across that way. I’ve had a very distant relationship with my biological father for many years now. Even after briefly reconnecting with him about five years ago, it really hasn’t done much to strengthen or salvage the relationship. Making an effort with him just feels like a waste of time and energy.

He’s made several attempts at asking me for money and only really texts me whenever he wants something. It’s an emotional time, not just for me but also for my parents who both no longer have their Dads in their lives. It’s felt like a massive void in my life for many years that I’ve had to find masculine energy and strength from other sources. This includes my step-dad, former personal trainer and a current yoga teacher. But sadly these will never completely fill the void or my needs.

So what’s the best way of taking your mind off the fact that it’s Father’s Day today? Switching off all forms of social media. Going to the local community market at Cranbourne Public Hall and having a coffee with Mum at Michel's Patisserie (Cranbourne East, Victoria). Then going out to Village Cinemas Fountain Gate Gold Class to see the latest Mission: Impossible movie. I think that’s more than enough distractions really. I know a lot of people love and embrace Father’s Day but sadly I’m not one of them for obvious reasons.

On Monday night, I went to the Men of Doveton Program held at Doveton College Theatre and Gym. It’s about halfway through the program now and to be honest, I feel like I’ve only just broken through the iceberg. Whenever it comes to social support groups, I always seem to be the underdog, the one lagging behind the others, the one struggling to catch up. It’s probably due to my autistic traits and under-developed social skills plus the fact that I’ve always been shy, introverted and reserved. But I am determined to complete this program and not simply give up due to my low motivation, self confidence and self worth.

Motivation is still something of a barrier for me, especially on Mondays where I typically don’t do much with my day at all. I usually do some housework, reading, check emails, listen to music and lay in bed. And so the Men of Doveton program has in fact given me a reason to get myself out of the house for a couple of hours and that in itself is an achievement for me. It shows that I need all the help and support I can get from this group of guys. https://www.caseystadium.ymca.org.au/whats-on/upcoming-events/event/men-of-doveton-free-health-program-2/2018/07/30

Tonight we started our first week of playing soccer. My initial reaction to this...well at least it’s better than cricket. But that certainly doesn’t make it easier. Learning to dribble, headbutt and maintain control of the ball wasn’t a walk in the park but I gave it a crack. Similarly, my aim was pretty terrible when it came to kicking the ball into the goals but at least I tried.

Hesitation and uncertainty continue to cloud my judgement when it comes to playing team sports games like soccer but it felt good to least least try to get involved. I made a couple of good attempts at passing the ball to a fellow teammate and also did my best to defend. Again this is not something I’m naturally good at but it’s good to see the other guys being supportive and respectful to the ones giving it a go.

After the physical health session, we gathered ourselves into the kitchen area for our cooking class. We divided ourselves up into seven groups and each worked on a different recipe together. These included: berry smoothies, beans and mushroom on toast, spinach, sweet potato and lentil Dhal, Mediterranean bean salad, roasted chickpeas, protein balls and wholemeal banana pancakes.

It honestly got me out of my comfort zone big time being in that kitchen. I don't do a great deal of cooking at home myself, just occasionally do simple dishes like scrambled eggs, omelettes, salads, smoothies, stir fris etc. And it felt good to be able to contribute and get involved in the cooking process. With there being about 25-30 people in the kitchen, it got hectic very quickly.

Of course my autism and anxiety was going off like an alarm, getting myself easily distracted and being unsure of myself. To throw myself into situations where there is little structure and plenty of chaos, that requires a lot of strength. The solution is to perform tasks I know I’m actually good at like chopping up vegetables, heating up some rice and helping to clean up.

The other is to ask others what needs doing but it’s tough when there’s a lot going on stimulation wise. Still even with how busy the environment got, I still enjoyed myself and felt good about using some hands on kitchen skills again. It’s actually pretty therapeutic as it keeps your mind focused and active on that single activity. Plus I was cutting up and crushing chilies, ginger and garlic which are ingredients I don’t eat or use very often.

In terms of social connections, I feel like I’m slowly blending in with the others. Being one of the quietest men in the group, it’s very easy for me to get overlooked and not stand out. Whenever I meet new people, a wall goes up for my own self-protection due to my trust issues from the past and so it takes time for me to begin opening up to other people and gradually bring that wall down. But I could tell that people were there to support me and to make sure that I didn’t feel alone.

Just attending these weekly Men of Doveton sessions is half the battle for me as social awkwardness and fears of being rejected can rear their ugly heads. But everyone is pretty accepting and inclusive in this group hence why I keep coming each week.

On Tuesday morning, I attended the Adults Learners Week pop-up event at Hampton Park Library. Entering the library foyer, I could already feel my cheeks getting flushed with redness, mainly due to the big question: What the hell am I doing with my life? Thankfully there were plenty of free resources here from Hampton Park Community House, Hampton Park Uniting Church, Hallam Community Learning Centre Inc., Chisholm Institute and Casey Cardinia Libraries.

Mum and I both renewed our library membership cards, grabbed lots of programs and brochures and filled out a work/learning goals form. For 16 years, I’ve referred to myself as a Career Counsellor’s nightmare and nothing much has changed today. It would be easier to say what I’m not interested in. I wrote down: creative writing, painting, drawing, reviewing, barista training, hospitality, waiting and bar service, health and fitness, mental health, nutrition just to name a few things. https://www.cclc.vic.gov.au/

But I’m glad I went today as I’ve opened myself up to more potential social outlets and ways to connect with the local community through classes, workshops, activities, functions, events and training courses. Plus finding mental health support groups, social groups and building friendships. All of those things are very important to me. I’m actually highly considering attending a local church group to pick myself up and feel more connected with others. And I’m not even a Christian. https://www.adultlearnersweek.org/learning-in-casey/

On Tuesday night, I attended my RPM class at YMCA Casey RACE in Cranbourne East. I wasn’t exactly feeling energised or alert even after having a regular latte before my class started but I didn’t care. I was determined to jump on that bike and workout hard. It’s been a while since I last did a class with fitness instructor Caroline Dowswell Symmons aka Cas (who also teaches Body Balance and Body Pump) so it was good to see her again. https://www.caseyrace.ymca.org.au/gym/group-fitness

We did a mixture of tracks tonight including Ke$ha - We R Who We R (Release 51), Cascada - San Fransisco (Release 54), Sash! featuring Stunt - Raindrops (Release 50) and Fatboy Slim versus Moguai - Ya Mama “Push The Tempo” (Release 56). Cas has a really entertaining way of accentuating the lyrics and trying to encourage us to increase the resistance a little more especially during the climbing uphill tracks. It certainly makes RPM classes a lot more enjoyable and fun. https://www.lesmills.com/workouts/fitness-classes/rpm/

On Wednesday, my mental health took a turn for the worse. I realised that I’d been carrying a lot of unresolved baggage from Father’s Day last weekend plus lack of sleep, confidence and self-esteem issues, work-related stress, frustration, moodiness, irritability, social isolation. All of it was coming to a head today. I really needed to be pro-active and do something about it.

So I decided to see my GP Dr. Mah Mah Thet for her recommendation. After suggesting that I think I should change my antidepressant medication (I’ve been taking Zoloft/Sertraline for over 18 months now), she agreed and recommended finding a psychiatrist who specialises in mood disorders and sleep problems. The difficult task now is doing my homework, researching and finding a psych who suits my needs, narrowing the options down to one.

On Thursday afternoon, I had my NDIS planning meeting/conversation held at Level 2, Suite 1, 64 Victor Crescent in Narre Warren. I spent this week deliberately distracting myself from thinking about this meeting as I was feeling pretty nervous and uncertain about it. I couldn’t have been more organised with a yellow display folder packed with notes, information brochures, letters, reports and evidence about my mental health condition and disability. With how daunting and overwhelming the NDIS system is, I just couldn’t wait to get this planning meeting over with.

An NDIS representative named Sean ran the meeting today in one of the office spaces. After wasting 5-10 minutes trying to plug the mouse into his computer, we finally got going. Most of it was answering a range of online questionnaires about my family life, social and work environments, living arrangements, what I need help and support with, how my disability impacts on my life, my emotional health, how I want my plan to be managed, my goals and participant statement. I found that the wording of some of the questions was very convoluted and unnecessarily complex that I had to go to Mum or Sean for a second opinion. It was like they were trying to trip me up if I answered the question incorrectly but Sean assured me that this wasn’t the case.

I did notice that Sean would often go off on a tangent and not be mindful enough about the time (we only had 1.5 hours allocated for this appointment). I also found that he’d sometimes try to answer questions for me and I wasn’t exactly comfortable about that. But otherwise he was very easy to get along with. https://www.casey.vic.gov.au/community-services/ndis

Thankfully the rest of it was pretty easy as I already did my homework and pre-filled a lot of information ahead of time. Sean offered the suggestion of doing an aged care or disability services course but I’m not really sure about that right now and I’d rather see an actual careers counsellor about that. I’m sure he meant well by it. Now I just have to wait for the plan to get put together. https://www.ndis.gov.au/participants/firstplan

On Friday night, I went to a boxing small group training session at CinFull Fitness. Considering how low, depressed, overwhelmed, highly strung and stressed out I’ve been feeling this week, I figured that trying out some boxing would be a good way to release those negative emotions and make me feel more energized. It was just the four of us tonight, being joined by Grace, Chloe and Ashlee.

Considering I don’t do boxing classes regularly enough or had much experience, I was pretty rusty at it but the girls were very patient and encouraging with me. We took it in turns in wearing the gloves and the focus mitts, doing a few drills and basic combos. The hardest part for me was learning the co-ordination, mitt/glove positioning and timing of the jabs, hooks, crosses and uppercuts but I was slowly getting the hang of it. https://www.expertboxing.com/boxing-basics/how-to-box/the-beginners-guide-to-boxing

There was a lot of cardio exercise mixed in including walking lunges, plank holds, squats, star jumps, step jumps, jumping jacks, squat jumps and push-ups. The physical fatigue and profuse amounts of sweat was obviously present tonight but I felt like I was managing okay. If I don’t need to have the ambos called from Casey Hospital, you know that I’m not overdoing it and that’s important. I’m aware enough of my limits and if I need to stop and take a breather. I’m sure that Cinamon Guerin doesn’t want to see me keeling over.

“I was like a lead balloon when I couldn't even get up to turn the lights on, the dark was swallowing me. Lord knows you can't trust your head, when you're standing on the edge. I'm breaking down. Lord knows you can't trust your head, when you're hanging by a thread. I was breaking down.” SIA - Footprints (2016)

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get-a-new-lease-on-life · 6 years

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A New Lease on Life - #51

51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty

Hey, Y'all! Long time, no see...again...ahem. Updates have been slowing down for a while and I'm incredibly sorry for it; it just seems like it's going to be going a while longer no matter how irritating it is. TBH, lately Real Life has been about 97% in the crapper and the remaining 3% has been spent hiding from the Flying Crap Fairy because sh*t's STILL hitting the fan. Oy. Seriously, we really need some Flying Crap Fairy repellent because we're apparently good targets. :\ Anyway, I won't bore y'all with details on this latest disaster, but Cold and I are both very lucky to even be alive right now, along with several of our closest neighbors. We came very farking close to NOT being alive anymore recently and, although Cold's shrugged it off with his usual attitude, I've been an absolute mess of nerves. I just haven't had either time or drive to sit down and write lately but hopefully things will ease up soon. (If for some weird reason you want a better explanation, no worries, just PM me on FFnet or one of my usual accounts and I'll fill ya in, no worries. Misery loves company, but Anxiety's even clingier...and no, I do not plan on including this scare in a Blocked installment.)

Anyhoo, a word of warning: this story has, from the start, been an awkward mishmash of the Bay movies universe and a few other 'verses, but as of this chapter, that mish-mash becomes heavier with 'other -verse' than previously. Specifically, we're going to be seeing a lot from the '03 series, but you don't need a good understanding of that series to follow the plot. Not everything's going to be exactly as per that canon because I'm altering some things to better fit the Bay-verse canon. Either way, I hope you'll enjoy, and hope to hear from y'all soon!

Suggested Listening: The Goo Goo Dolls "Iris," Red "Best is Yet to Come," Ashes Remain "On My Own"

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51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty

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November 10th, afternoon

Somewhere along the line, Donatello miscalculated; where or when that miscalculation was, he had no earthly idea. All he knew for certain was this: against all odds, the most unlikely of sources brought answers to the conundrum of Amber's strange dreams of home. How this happened, the genius still wasn't sure—his head was still spinning from the unexpected admission from his father and sensei and that was hours ago.

"This…this makes no sense," Donnie muttered digging his fingertips into the bridge of his snout as though warding off a headache. "Amber's having prophetic dreams of her home world…because you saw her past?"

"That's the best explanation I can find," Splinter sighed. "Ordinarily, there should be no lasting effects, harmful or otherwise. Because she is from another reality than our own, the shared meditation technique I used may have inadvertently opened a psychic door to the world she left behind—a door she regrettably is unable to close under her own volition."

"This is insane." Donnie scoffed, his hands dropping to dangle off of his knees. At the time, he was too focused on getting answers to ask how his father could get those answers. Now… "Where did you even hear about that technique, anyway?" he asked. "It's not in any of your books about the martial arts—I checked. Where did you learn about it?"

Splinter hesitated, dark eyes focused somewhere beyond the cup of tea steaming on his low table. Perhaps…yes, the time was now. "Gather your brothers," he told Donnie calmly, "and the two young ladies as well. I hoped to put this off a little longer, but it appears the time has come."

Splinter's life began as a simple lab rat—his future should have been set in stone. Instead, he was freed, mutated, and left to fend for the four young turtles who endured the same testing he did. Every new parent faces struggles, but most will have some semblance of assistance, somewhere to turn when they needed help or advice. Splinter had no such thing…at least not to start with. That eventual assistance, while gravely needed, was something he was never sure how to explain to his boys. Now, he had no choice but to explain and hope they could understand his reasons for keeping it secret.

"You all know my training in Ninjitsu began with the discovery of a book," the aged rat related to the four mutants and two humans crowded around his bedroom. "There is, however, more to the story that I have not told you." As he spoke, he collected the book in question from his shelves and opened it to the very first page, where a cryptic inscription was scribbled in roughly-scrawled Japanese. "The book only provided the barest of essentials in ninjitsu training—one cannot learn something as complex as a martial arts discipline through the written word alone. This inscription contains coded instructions…directions on how to open a portal to another realm commonly called the Battle Nexus."

"The what now?" Leonardo shook his head in denial. "You—" Splinter shot him a stern glance, and he fell silent again.

"The Battle Nexus is a world meant to be accessed by those studying the ancient martial arts," Splinter continued seriously. "The book revealed the basics central to most martial arts disciplines then decoding the inscription therein revealed the Nexus to me. It was in that other realm that I met a powerful master of Ninjitsu—a man by the name of Hamato Yoshi—and studied under him in hopes of keeping you four safe."

"You studied under a master?" Leo repeated in disbelief. "How have we never met him? Until we met April, we were the only ones who ever found the Lair—how were you able to keep such an important visitor secret from us?"

"Master Yoshi never came to our world," Splinter explained. "I always went to his world for training—the moment you boys fell asleep, I left for an hour or two of training…" Here, he shot Michelangelo a stern frown.

"Oh, this is my part!" Mikey grinned excitedly. "Can I tell'em now? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" Splinter rolled his eyes.

"Tell us what?" Raphael demanded.

"When we were still kids, I caught Sensei sneakin' out once," Mikey explained without once losing his grin. "I woke up to pee and when I came back to bed, I saw him walking through a glowy hole in the wall and followed him. If I told anyone, he would'a put me in the Hashi. You're lookin' at the youngest Battle Nexus Champion ever, Bruhs! OW!" After Splinter's timely brain-duster, Raph and Donnie exchanged a bewildered glance, struggling to comprehend what they were hearing. Last year, they never would have believed Mikey capable of keeping secrets to save his life, but now they had undeniable proof that he could keep them. The Hardy cousins were a sizable secret alone, but interdimensional travel and their father training with a ninja master from another world? That was pushing it.

"I always intended to tell you, my sons, when you became older," Splinter admitted with a sigh. "I just never could find a way to start that conversation…by the time you were old enough to understand, my Master Yoshi was gone, passed away, and I'd become a master myself."

"This…this is a lot to take in," Leo admitted scratching his head. "It's hard to believe you managed to keep this a secret from us so long."

"My son," Splinter asked with deceptive innocence, "which is more unbelievable: that a grumpy old rat has a few secrets left, or that he could learn everything about Ninjitsu from a book?"

Later that afternoon, everything was settled and a plan was developed, and Donatello was diligently studying the steps to opening an interdimensional portal. While he worked out his end, Amber took care of her own. Almost a year after leaving her world behind, that night, she would be going home… Why did that realization frighten her so much? For the moment, she had no answers.

"Amber?" The greeting startled the brunette from her thoughts and she turned to acknowledge the genius hovering in the kitchen doorway. "What did I miss?" She gave a sheepish smile, tugging nervously at one of the many grey locks streaking her hair—those grey locks were now hidden, disguised with bright blue and soft violet dye courtesy of Mercy's handiwork and Kimber's drink mix stash.

"I'm dead in that world," Amber reminded Donnie as he poured himself a cup of stale coffee and invited himself to the table with her. "That me looked pretty different from how I do now but the resemblance is strong enough people might panic. I need'a avoid notice while we're there, an' the easiest way to be ignored is to look like I don't belong."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Donnie remarked dubiously. "If you stand out, wouldn't you be more noticeable?"

"Not in small towns," Amber shrugged, still absently toying with the stray lock of grape violet hair. "I didn't fit in, remember? Because I didn't fit in, I was mostly ignored until Mum set her church cronies on me. If I look like I'm just another glaikit toonser,~ the locals'll trip over'emselves to ignore me~…it's safer bein' outlandish than ordinary when hidin' in a small town." Donnie tore his eyes away from the violet streaking her hair, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks. He wasn't crazy about the raspberry blue streaks, but she wore his color well…yes, purple looked very nice on his Amber.

"If you think it'll work," he sighed turning to stare down into his coffee, "then I'll trust you. You're used to the small town mentality whereas I've never been out of New York state for long." Silence filled the kitchen—cold, uncomfortable silence full of electricity and fear—until one of them was again driven to fill it.

"I'm…afraid." Amber's admission caught the genius off-guard.

"Master says the portal technique is safe, Honey," he reminded gently. "He's taught me everything he can, I'll be bringing notes just in case, and if we're not back in a week, he'll come for us himself. There's no need to be afraid."

"I'm not worried about the portal malfunctioning," she admitted with an embarrassed cringe. "I…" She faltered, took a steadying breath, then soldiered on ahead. "You don't know what I was like in my last life, Dee," she explained nervously. "You know hardly anything about that me, not even what I looked like…an' I'm not foolish enough to assume you'll make it the entire trip without ever catching a glimpse of that me in some bog-awful photo or something. I'm just not lookin' forward to that happening."

"Does it really matter?" His words were blunt but his eyes softened the blow. "It's not the body that matters, remember? The soul in that body is what's important. I highly doubt your previous appearance could have any negative effect on my affection for you." Amber stared him down over her glasses, seemingly searching for any sign he was bluffing.

"Five-foot-three in shoes," she listed off in a deadpan tone. "Over two hundred pounds. Half-crippled at thirty-five an' on the far side of awkward. Constantly slouching because of fused vertebrae. Always tired. Frequently bitching even in a good mood. My hair was almost entirely grey an' startin' to thin an' my ass was big enough to prop a lamp on. Shall I continue?"

"If you wish," he shrugged. "It makes no difference to me—you've already told me most of this and it doesn't bother me." She finally broke eye contact, her eyes sad.

"There's more, though," she admitted softly. "I told you about Aaron…I told you there was no burn there…but it wasn't always like that." Though the admission worried him at first, Donnie patiently waited for her to fill in the blanks. "Mercy an' I met Aaron when we were in grade school, but we didn't really become friends until high school. I had a massive crush on him for years but never got any sign he felt the same an' eventually let it die out."

Unbidden, her memory reminded her of the day she and Aaron found her home destroyed—reminded her of the frantic way he clung to her as the skies broke open overhead. "The day we came back to find Willsdale in ruins, he kissed me...I thought he was just tryin' to calm me down, but Mercy…" She choked up, shaking her head bitterly. "What Mercy told me today suggests otherwise. If we somehow manage to make it there before he's done'imself harm, I can't guarantee how he'll react to seein' me."

Donatello considered her posture silently a moment, thinking over her confession. "You told me you love him," he reminded solemnly, "as a friend, not as a lover."

"That's correct—he's practically my brother."

"Then you're not worried about how you'll react to seeing him, only that I'll get jealous if he gets too close?" She winced.

"You know, when ya put it like that, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted under her breath.

"That's because it is ridiculous," he teased saluting her with his mug. "Real men don't mind other men coveting their lovers, only their lovers coveting other men."* Amber laughed and gave him a cheeky smile.

"Someone's been readin' Jane Austen, huh?" she teased. "An' here I thought you were more 1984 than Northanger Abbey." Her smile faded somewhat and she turned back to her tea. "I'll be honest with ya, Speccy…I don't see this goin' well. I'm dead in that world—we can't just expect that I'll be able to go back without any repercussions, even for a short time." Donnie studied her silently—from her brightly dyed hair to the faded traces of ink visible peeking up over her modest neckline—intent on burning the moment in his memory.

"You're worried about your loved ones," he reminded gently, "and until you know they're safe, you'll keep worrying about them until it breaks you." She nodded weakly. "I refuse to watch that happen, Amber, not when I can do something to prevent it." He reached out, clasping a supportive hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet his eyes over her glasses. "I won't let anything happen to you," the genius swore tucking a raspberry blue lock behind her ear. "Did you call the pizza parlor?" She blinked at him in confusion, but a moment later caught up.

"Yeah," she mumbled back. "I got a week unpaid to take care of my 'family emergency' but they're cuttin' my hours for the rest of the month over it…an' if I'm not there early on my first day back I'm fired. Never thought I'd say it, but my boss is even more of a dobber~ than my Da." She shrugged, torn between a smile and a cringe. "We shouldn't need a whole week—shouldn't even need more'n a few days—but I packed extra just in case." A frustrated sigh in the doorway drew the couple's attention—Mercy hesitated on the threshold, visibly torn. "What's wrong, Merse?" Amber asked the blonde. Mercy fidgeted, mussed her hair, then soldiered forward.

"I'm not goin' with ya." Donnie blinked in surprise.

"We didn't expect ya to," Amber answered her friend slowly. "If—"

"Good," Mercy cut her off brusquely, "as long as we're clear on that. That world's got nothin' left fer me, an' I ain't goin' back." Amber and Donnie exchanged a confused glance, both hoping the other had answers and both disappointed to find they didn't. Recognizing their confusion, Mercy rolled her eyes and stalked over to the fridge to pour herself a glass of iced tea. "Asshat's sulking," she grumbled fishing out a tall glass. "He thinks I'm goin' back an' won't listen when I tell'im I ain't. If y'all have everythin' together, please just get goin' before he demands to go with." Donnie couldn't quite stifle the snort of laughter that burst up his throat, and it earned him a sharp glare from the blonde. "Git."~

"Well," Amber chuckled nervously pushing herself back from the table. "You heard the lady…guess it's time to get a move on, huh? Mind grabbin' the bags?" With a quick peck on the cheek, Donnie ducked out to collect the packed duffle bag and carry-on from his room, leaving Amber and Mercy alone in the kitchen. "I understand yer reasons for not wantin' to go," Amber said softly, "an' I respect them. Is there anythin' you want us to do fer ya while we're there? Anyone ya want checked on?" Mercy avoided her eyes.

"You know the answer to that," the blonde muttered dropping into Donnie's vacated chair. "The only people I ever really had any interaction with were you an' yer family, Aaron, an' my family…an' all that's left of my family's Ma. Anythin' material we were able to save from the ranch is gonna be with her, too, an' I ain't sendin' ya after anything. Better that ya don't have to deal with her."

"Mercy." The blonde looked up, blue eyes wide and nervous, and registered her friend's tired eyes. "It's alright to wonder…it's alright to wanna know she's safe, even after everything she did to you." Mercy grimaced, staring through the table before her.

"That obvious, huh?" she asked with a bitter sneer.

"Only to me," the brunette admitted settling back in her own chair. "I know you too well to not notice, Hon…an' I understand."

Mercy thought hard over her friend's words, distractedly reaching up for the beaded chain around her neck; just as the night Raphael's temper sent her fleeing to the park, she fiddled with the foiled sobriety chip dangling from it. It wasn't the same chip she wore when she and Donatello finally broke down and talked one-to-one—after all, she was well beyond her fourth month sober now, coming up on her ninth. Clarity Ross never even made it nine days without a drink… Denim blue eyes darted down to the metallic red chip in her grasp, contemplating it silently. Her mind made up, she twisted the chip free of the flimsy jump ring it hung from and tossed it to Amber.

"Ma had Ellis buried in the family plot," the blonde stated seriously. "He'd want to know I'm alright…please leave that for'im?" Amber visibly hesitated. "I'll be gettin' another one soon, anyway…I'm nine months sober next Friday." Mercy's lips quirked up in a humorless smile. "If you wanna check on Ma while you're there, I won't argue."

"Are you ready to go?" Donnie's voice in the doorway startled the two women, and, realizing he interrupted them, he gave them a sheepish smile.

"Yeah," Amber answered, then accepted the red foiled chip from Mercy and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'll get this to'im…'til we're back, I'm countin' on you to keep everyone in line, a'right?" Mercy smirked and gave her friend a confident nod.

The odd family gathered in the hallway to the repurposed Barracks to bid their farewells; only Raphael was absent from the send-off, and Mercy was sure this was no coincidence. Armed with chalk and detailed notes, Donatello carefully scribbled the ceremonial seals on the concrete wall before him, all the while muttering a quickly memorized chant. With the last stroke and the final word, the pasty white lines began glowing with a bright unearthly light then vanished entirely…along with the concrete. A pitch black void yawned before them, not even a speck of light to be seen. He turned to Amber, swallowing down his nerves. "This part's your job," he explained quietly.

"What?" Amber squeaked in surprise, her eyes shooting over to meet Splinter's.

"Ordinarily," the older mutant explained patiently, "this ceremony would open a door directly to the Battle Nexus, but the destination can be altered through focused intent." The brunette turned to Donnie in confusion but he had no answers, so she turned back to Splinter. "Visualize the place you wish to arrive in," Splinter explained with a slight frown. "In your mind's eye, contemplate a location where your arrival will be both safe and unseen, in as much detail as possible." Amber glanced over at Mercy.

"What about the ruins between Aaron's house and your step-dahd's Ranch?" the brunette asked the blonde curiously. "Were they still standin' after the storms?" Mercy nodded in agreement, and Amber turned back to Donnie. "The ruins then—the area's been abandoned since the cabin there burned down—ya never even find any graffiti there, kids're always too scared'a the rumors." With every word, a tiny pinprick of light in the void grew larger and brighter, 'til it seemed like a light at the end of a tunnel. "That's not creepy at all," Amber mumbled edging closer to Donnie.

"Be safe, you two," Leo urged quietly. Donnie and Amber bid their final goodbyes, both worried what they'd find on the other side. With a shared steadying breath, they stepped into the void, following the light to a world apart from their own.

Mercy watched solemnly until their backs vanished into the void, then even longer until the portal in the wall faded back into stained concrete. Long after the others were gone, she still stood there in the hallway, hoping, wondering, and dreading all at once. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong—something about the whole plan to send Amber home to check on their loved ones sent chills down her spine. Eyes focused somewhere beyond the stained concrete wall, she watched, waited, and worried.

Screw this…driving herself up the wall would accomplish nothing. Struggling to clear her mind, the blonde ducked into the barracks to retrieve her boots and a jacket, then stalked out the side door. There was always something to be done in the garden, after all, and not much could clear her mind like yardwork.

In the open doorway to the massive green space the family created from the abandoned Railyard, Mercy paused, eyes locked on a familiar shape crouching beside a bed of freshly transplanted peppers. Raphael…he hadn't heard her, hadn't seen her, and for all intents and purposes, seemed too lost in his own brooding to register her presence. For a moment, she took advantage of her unintentional invisibility—seized it as an opportunity to soak in the sight of him and contemplate her strange and wondrous reactions to seeing him.

Warmth blooming in her stomach—downy fuzz filling her subconscious—sweat-slicked palms and a fluttering pulse—no other man ever drove her so out of her mind that she lost herself at the mere sight of him. Never before had the mere scent of a man's sweat driven her to distraction. Never before had she craved the touch and taste of another the way she craved Raphael. A lifetime ago, she would have let him go, would never have taken a chance on anyone for fear of proving her mother right. In this lifetime, she knew better…in this lifetime she had Raphael and she knew he'd never allow her to be hurt again, not while he still breathed. How did she get so lucky? Over four months had passed since Raphael opened his heart enough to let her in, but still, she didn't have an answer to that question.

Heaven, help me to surrender, she thought silently, eyes locked on the mutant who decided to be a better man for her. Show me mercy an' I'll never ask fer anythin' again.** Before she fell further into reflection, she broke herself loose, grabbed the handles of the rolling mulch bin, and strode confidently toward the mutant ruminating over her peppers. By the time she sank to her knees in the dirt and commenced shoveling out wood chips for the jalapenos, Raph was watching her in mute confusion. She didn't acknowledge him or greet him—when he was ready to talk, he'd do so without her prompting. Sure enough, he soon broke the tense silence.

"When's Donnie an' Amber leavin'?" he asked in a low rumble. Mercy shrugged, methodically heaping mulch around the first plant.

"Ya missed'em," the blonde answered, visibly untroubled. "They're gone—been so about twenty minutes now, I reckon." As she dipped back in for more mulch, Raph studied her seriously, combing through her words for anything that might have been lost in translation. He found nothing…even so, it didn't comfort him any.

"Ya didn't go with'em," the mutant confirmed aloud. "They're goin' back to yer homeworld an' ya didn't go with'em." Denim blue eyes rolled and Mercy shook her head with a long-suffering sigh.

"I told'ja I wasn't goin' with'em," she reminded dryly, but her unaffected expression pinched into a vicious scowl. The plant she was working with had some mild bug damage, from the looks of it, some sort of beetle. "Boris, yer lettin' me down," she grumbled snipping off the damaged foliage. "Start earnin' yer keep or I'm'onna take a can'a Raid after ya, mark my words."~ The massive mutant beside her cringed, well-remembering the huge, hairy wolf spider Mercy named Boris and released into the garden. How he managed to stack up enough bad karma to wind up with a spider-loving woman when he himself fea—er, hated bugs was quite beyond him.

"I don't get it." The grumbled words drew her eyes to his in bemusement. "Dat world's yer home—yer a country gal, Merse, but yer stayin here, in da city…why?" He shook his head with a scoff, quickly riling himself up for a fight. "Ya should'a gone with'em! Ya don't belong here, Kid, ya—" With lightning-fast reflexes, Mercy snatched the trowel out of the mulch bin and whacked him on the shin with it, eliciting a startled shout; the pained bellow was quickly followed by a snarl and scowl as the indignant mutant clutched his stinging shin.

"I told'ja I'm stayin'," she reminded shaking the trowel at him like a scolding finger. "I ain't changin' my mind, not fer all the cows in the world. This's my home now—yer my home now, ya meathead!" Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her task. "Quit tryin'a chase me off before I give ya a reason to want me gone." Raphael stared at her, half stunned, half confused, and entirely speechless; Mercy paid him no mind, instead, falling to grumbling at him under her breath. "I also told'ja they're jus' goin' back to make sure no one's offed'emselves but did'ja listen?~ No, no one ever listens to Mercy!" After a few more grumbled complaints, Raph finally worked up the courage to interrupt.

"Yer sure, Merse?" he asked, hazel eyes sweeping from the frayed knees of her jeans to her messy blonde hair and over every inch between them. "Ya gotta chance to live in da country again—ya could get out'a da city." He shook his head, sinking to his backside on the dirt-strewn concrete and reaching up to dig his fingers into his stiff neck. "If ya stay here, in da city…Babe, I can't give ya everythin' ya deserve, not when we're stuck livin' in da sewers an' subways."

"What exactly is it ya think I deserve?" the blonde demanded, pinning him with her eyes. "Safety? Security? Happiness, love, a reason fer tryin'?"

"All'a dat!" Raph answered flinging one arm wide in exasperation. "All'a dat an'—"~ She cut him off again.

"Ya a'ready gimme all'a that, Raphael,"~ Mercy insisted soberly. "I feel safe with ya—I feel secure in yer home. Ya make me happier'n~ I've ever been, ya gimme a reason to keep tryin' an' keep fightin'…" A faint hint of pink darkened her cheeks and an uncomfortable cringe twisted her naked lips. "As fer love…I love ya, ya love me, an' that's more'n~ I ever thought I'd have. Maybe ya can't gimme cows an' country air more'n once in a while, but yer worth it, ten times over."

Muddy brown darkened the pale skin around his muzzle but he wore a wide, lopsided smirk. Crossing his legs he patted one bulky thigh and when she accepted the invitation his smirk spread into a grin. The peppers, the cows, and the other world were all but forgotten as the two lovers clashed, first at the hips, then at the lips, neither content with being apart.

"I love ya, Raphie," Mercy repeated softly into the crook of his neck, smiling at how his pulse thundered against her lips. "Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Quit waitin' fer me to run off, okay?" A contemplative rumble of acceptance vibrated against her shoulder.

"A'right," Raph accepted soberly, carding his thick fingers through her mussed hair. "I still think ya should go home for a lil' while at least, anyway," he admitted. "Ya got family an' friends dere…it might do ya good ta go back fer a visit, you know, get some closure 'er whateva it is Donnie was talkin' 'bout earlier."

"No." The denial was surprisingly vehement, and he eased her away to study her expression for answers.

"No?" he asked.

"Make that a fuck no," she corrected sourly. "Amber's checkin' on Willis, Raph, an' other'n Willis, the only other person I ever cared about in that world was my Ma…an' there's no way in Hell I'm goin' back to'er again!" The massive mutant said nothing, but Mercy felt that nothing was a rather infuriating way of saying something. "I made that mistake too many times a'ready—I died determined to never go back to'er again!" She winced, reaching up to clutch the ever-present sobriety chip from her necklace, only to recall its absence and let her hand fall uselessly over her knee. "I've finally got the balls to live my own life, Red," she summed up with a weak shrug. "If I go back to'er anyway, I'll have died fer nothin'…an' I can't take that."

Raph considered her words a silent moment, gently petting her messy hair. "I find it hard ta believe ya eva' lacked balls, Kid," he remarked without emphasis. "I gotta feelin' ya had plenty'a will ta fight, jus' like now, but'cha just didn't find nothin' worth fightin' fer."~ A rough, callused fingertip curled under Mercy's pointed chin, urging her to meet the amber eyes a little above hers. "Yer worth fightin' fer," Raph swore leaning down to rest his brow on hers and hold her eyes. "It ain't gotta happen anytime soon, an' ya won't go alone, but someday, ya really need'a face'er again, just ta prove yer stronger'n she is…yer not alone, Sweetheart…ya'll neva be alone again as long's I'm breathin'."

Touched, choking up, Mercy stole his lips in a hungry, wanton kiss, leaning into the scarred palms cupping her jaw and the small of her back. Even as she let her feelings sweep her away and threw herself headlong into the wonder that was Raphael's softer side, she struggled against silent doubt. She'd rather walk barefoot through the hottest depths of Hell than ever see her mother again, but even now, she was held back by the years of abuse she suffered at Clarity's hands. If she never faced Clarity again, never confronted her demons, how could she ever move beyond her fears of intimacy and shame? More so, if she were to face Clarity again, would she emerge stronger than before, or would it entirely break her?

The salty-sweet lips against hers had no answers, and neither did she, but for the moment, she was totally fine with that.

WORDS

~ A "glaikit toonser" – Scottish slang, glaikit– stupid and toonser – someone from the city. (Compare to cliché 'city-slicker' or Southern 'dumbass Yank.') ~ "the locals'll trip over'emselves to ignore me." – 'The local population will do everything in their power to pretend I don't exist, even if it means making asses of themselves.' Not speaking for EVERY small town, but my experience with small towns has taught me the easiest way to be ignored and left alone is to act like an oblivious tourist. This is ESPECIALLY effective in Cold's hometown—all it takes is being surprised by chickens in the road to render you 'a dumbass Yank' to the local populace, who will then avoid you like the plague. ~ Dobber – Scottish slang for fool, stupid person, or dickhead. She's using the latter definition. ~ Git – Midwestern and Southern slang verb, not Brit-slang insult. When used in a sentence it's just an awkward pronunciation of 'get' [pronounced exactly as written] but when it's used on its own, like in this passage, it's an emphatic insistence that someone leave. Pronounced Gyit or GEE-it with the GEE (Soft g as in gift) shortened and bleeding into the less-emphasized –it. The 't' is usually insinuated rather than enunciated, especially in the Midwest. ~ Boris, yer lettin' me down—Start earnin' yer keep or I'm'onna take a can'a Raid after ya, mark my words. – Boris, you're letting me down—Start eating the bugs or I'll spray you with Raid, (bug killer) just you watch me! (Recall that "Boris the Spider" was named for a song by the same name, by, I believe, The Who.) ~ I also told'ja they're jus' goin' back to make sure no one's offed'emselves~ but did'ja listen? – 'I also told you they're just going back (to Amber and Mercy's world) to make sure no one has killed themselves, but did you listen?' This is a direct reference to Amber's dream of Aaron contemplating drowning himself in 'Wilson's Crick.' ~ All'a dat – all'a dat an' [more] – all of that – all of that and more. ~ Ya a'ready gimme all'a that. – You already give me all of that. ~ Happier'n / more'n / other'n – Happier than / more than / other than. All are Midwestern/Southern-isms. First is pronounced like adding urn to happy, the second and third sound somewhat like MORE-un and UTHER-in. ~ I find it hard ta believe ya eva' lacked balls. – I find it hard to believe you ever lacked [the] balls [to do something.] ~ I gotta feelin' ya had plenty'a will ta fight, jus' like now, but'cha just didn't find nothin' worth fightin' fer. Yer worth fightin' fer. – I've got a feeling you had plenty of will to fight, just like now, but you just couldn't find anything worth fighting for. You're worth fighting for. ~ It ain't gotta happen anytime soon, an' ya won't go alone, but someday, ya really need'a face'er again, just ta prove yer stronger'n she is. – It doesn't have to happen anytime soon, and you won't go there alone, but someday, you really need to face your mother again just to prove you're stronger than she is. ~ Yer not alone, Sweetheart…ya'll neva be alone again as long's I'm breathin'. – You're not alone, Sweetheart…you'll never be alone again as long as I'm breathing. [Alive] Verdict: Raph has a mushy side but it takes some digging to reach it. :3

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