hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.
Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.
"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.
Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.
"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.
only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.
it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.
write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.
if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.
as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.
play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.
i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.
see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.
stretch.
it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.
add dragons?
read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.
i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.
on that note. drink your fukin. water.
don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.
grapes :) tasty snack.
i love you be free.
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Randomized Robins AU - Ages + Worst Trait Exercise:
Steph (25):
Says her worst trait is her murderous rages (she is exaggerating for dramatic/comedic effect, she’s killed 3 people tops and for very good reason)
Thinks her worst trait is her spitefulness (one of the few traits she definitely got from her father + one that prevents her from fixing her relationships and living her best possible life. She’ll refuse to interact with someone she dearly loves after an argument (happens significantly less after Tim’s death) or will say things she knows are hurtful just for the sake of having the last word. This trait will worsen in some ways as the list of people who have wronged her and those she loves grows, but will also ease up as she matures and realizes the harm it’s doing to her relationships with those she loves most.)
Her worst trait really is her spitefulness
Cass (26)
Says her worst trait is her self-righteousness (she believes that her goals are righteous and, as a result, she is righteous. Cass becomes very defensive whenever someone questions the mission and often does not second-guess herself. This is a trait she only develops later in life as she grows closer to Bruce/learns to understand herself more/starts to love herself more. But she knows she isn’t perfect and when somebody she trusts criticizes something she is doing she is willing to listen. She just usually isn’t the one to START the introspection.)
Thinks her worst trait is her self-righteousness.
Her worst trait actually is her obsessiveness (she gets it from Bruce and, while not as bad as him, she will easily become preoccupied with her night-life and the mission if someone isn’t there to pull her back. She will do this to the point of self-destruction and it hurts her relationships with the people she loves, especially Steph.)
Tim (24)
Says his worst trait is his spitefulness (he actively rejects the idea of mending his relationships with the older members of the family and this causes him to also lack good relationships with the younger ones)
Thinks his worst trait is his obsessiveness (similar to Cass, if he gets fixated on a task or idea he will neglect everything else in his life in order to dedicate more time to it. Unlike Cass, he will almost never be dragged away from it unless Pierrot snatches control of the body and forces them to take care of themself.)
His worst trait actually is how manipulative he is (the KING of guilt-tripping and using people’s emotions against them. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, he’s not above crocodile tears. And he will do it to whoever he needs (or wants) to with little care for how his actions impact others.)
Pierrot (Insists: “Age doesn’t apply to me! And even if it did, I'd probably be the oldest. Or the youngest! I’d never be a middle child, though.” Mental assessments by the Bats have put him around 21, with a margin of error of 3 years. Pierrot has called this “blatant character assassination by my eternal rival!”)
Says his worst trait is that he is an irredeemable psychopath without any regard for the wellbeing of others (this is a lie and everyone who's important to him understands this).
Thinks his worst trait is his parasitic nature (he literally would not exist had Tim not suffered the way he did. Plus he is a living reminder of one of the worst things that happened to many of his loved ones. He is a parasite injected into a functional person's body and contributes to his continued suffering. This is also a largely incorrect judgement of himself, caused by his actual worst trait.)
His worst trait actually is his limited sense of self (he doesn’t really know who he is outside of ‘inheritor to the legacy of the Joker (a man he despises yet also views as a father)’ and ‘chip in Tim’s brain that became sentient’. He slowly develops an identity over the course of his life and relationships with other people, but he lacks the foundations of identity that most people have. Pierrot will often almost become a caricature of himself and what others perceive him to be because it's the only person he knows how to be. This causes wild swings in how he behaves and relates to others, sometimes to the detriment of himself and others.)
Dick (17)
Says his worst trait is his clinginess (he is a very extraverted person who likes to be around others, which mixed with his fear of abandonment after his parents died means that if he goes a few days without seeing/talking to a friend he will get very anxious.)
Thinks his worst trait is his anger issues (he gets ticked off very easily and will explode on people. He’s kind at his core and is usually very nice, but he has a temper that can escalate significantly. Spoiler (and later Twist) help him channel this anger into something positive.)
His worst trait actually is his anger issues.
Barbara (18)
Says her worst trait is her disability (internalized ableism, she thinks of herself as less valuable than the other Bats because she cannot be out there in the capes like they can. She will grow out of this as she matures and as she learns how invaluable her support for the team is.)
Thinks her worst trait is her disability
Her worst trait actually is her overly-independent nature (In an attempt to overcompensate for everything she can no longer do, she has resolved to do literally everything that she possibly can without any help from others. This results in many instances where she either takes on too much and winds up not being able to fully realize any of her tasks or where she makes her life and the lives of others significantly harder by refusing help when offered/not asking for it when she needs it.)
Damian (16)
Says his worst trait is his perfectionism (he is overly critical of both himself and others, taking any flaw or problem and amplifying it to an absurd degree. This is due in part to his life with the LoA (where even a brief misstep could lead to death), in part to how others treated him initially as Spoiler (any flaw was fixated on and used as a reason to either mistrust him or portray him as unworthy of the mantle), and in part due to the fact that he is Bruce’s son (the only person with worse perfectionism problems than Damian). Gradually, Damian has improved in this regard but it’s still a massive barrier to both his own happiness and his relationships with others.)
Thinks his worst trait is his perfectionism
His worst trait actually is his perfectionism
Duke (16)
Says his worst trait is his definitely-real secret evil side (says this as a ‘my dad is a villain so who knows??’ joke)
Thinks his worst trait is his impulsivity in his words (Sometimes he will crack a joke or say a remark without thinking it through, leading to a LOT of hurt feelings and drama. He’ll say something without thinking it through and wind up seeming insensitive. This isn’t done because of malice, rather because Duke is someone who’s quick to act and speak. But while the mantle of Insight and his awakening powers have helped him with his actions, they do not always help with his loose tongue. As such, Duke gains an unfair reputation in the media as an instigator and will accidentally cause family drama through what he says.)
His worst trait actually is his impulsivity in his words
Jason (14)
Says his worst trait is his bad manners (he grew up on the streets and has no idea how rich-people society works, which he’s pretty insecure about considering he’s now the youngest kid of Bruce freaking Wayne).
Thinks his worst trait is his reactiveness (Jason never got the privilege of planning ahead for various events in his life, so he instead needed to rely on being swift and harsh in how he could react to situations. It’s saved his life on multiple occasions and helps significantly in his role as Spoiler, but it can also lead to extreme overreactions (accidentally causing kidnapping scare after Jason ran away following a fight with Dick) and a struggle to plan things out ahead of time. As he grows more secure in his place in the family and in life, this trait will lessen but never fully dissipate.)
His worst trait actually is his reactiveness
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Eyeshield 21: Winter 2023 Gift Exchange
This is my piece for @eyeshields! I was working with the prompts winter vacation + getting cozy, and to me there’s nothing more warm and close during winter break than baking together.
I really hope that you like it! 🎄🏈
The door to the kitchen bursts open with a force that rattles the walls, and Kurita drops the scoop of flour he’s been measuring. A cloud of white rises into the air before settling on his face and shirt like a layer of dust.
“Hiruma!” Kurita swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, which only pushes the flour further into his eyelashes, eyebrows, and even his hairline. “Are you here to help with the cookies?”
Hiruma stares at him, then glances at the mass of dough on the countertop that’s nearly twice the size of Kurita’s head. With a snort, he jabs the barrel of his machine gun into it. “They not feeding you enough over vacation, fucking fatty?”
Actually, Kurita could go for a light snack about now. It had been almost two hours since breakfast.
He shrugs and begins counting on his fingers. “I just want to say thank you to Sena-kun, and Monta-kun, and Yukimitsu-kun, and Mamori-chan, and everyone who joined the Devil Bats.”
Kurita pauses, weighing everything he’s feeling and everything he wishes he could tell Hiruma. That he’s so grateful. That he’s so happy. That he wants to win, and more than anything, he wants to win with this team and these friends.
But Hiruma likely won’t put up with all that mushy feelings talk, and so finally Kurita just says, “I want to say thank you to them for making our dream… possible.”
Hiruma narrows his eyes and plants a strong, solidly aimed kick into Kurita’s backside. “We haven’t achieved anything yet, idiot. And you can say thank you by winning our next game.”
But unasked, he slings his machine gun off his shoulder and begins rolling up his sleeves.
Kurita’s smile is so wide his cheeks hurt. Turning to the recipe, he double-checks it to make sure the oven is preheating at the right temperature, and then pulls out a second cookie sheet for Hiruma to use.
“So what are we making?” Hiruma rips off a hunk of dough and starts to shape it between his long fingers. “Fat fucking beardies in suits? Little toy-making slaves? AK-47s that say ‘Win, Devil Bats!’ on them?”
Kurita is not about to give out cookies with icing threats as a way to say thank-you to his friends, but it is a very Hiruma-like idea.
“We have to roll the dough out first,” Kurita reads. “After that we can cut it into shapes. I thought we could make everyone’s faces as a way to cheer them on?”
As Kurita reaches for a rolling pin, Hiruma pulls out another gun—from where, Kurita can’t begin to imagine—and rests the cylindrical barrel on top of the dough. They both roll out their respective halves back and forth, back and forth until two thin and more or less even sheets of dough have taken up the entire counter.
Kurita begins humming a cheery and festive tune that he can’t quite remember the name of, and the two get to work cutting and lining up dozens of raw cookies onto the baking sheets. While Kurita finds it easier for his large hands to work with cookie cutters, Hiruma has enough skill and dexterity to carve shapes out of the dough with a knife. Every so often a nasty-sounding kekeke cuts through Kurita’s song, and he smiles thinking his very best friend is having just as much fun as he is.
Though his progress is slower than Hiruma’s—about one in four raw cookies end up in Kurita’s mouth before they can make it onto the tray—eventually everything is ready to bake.
Kurita sits on the floor in front of the oven, silently cheering the cookies on as they cook. Maybe it’s because they’re shaped like his friends, but in a silly way he feels like if they turn out well then so will the team. So as he waits, he wills them not to burn, and Hiruma comes over to rest his gun-slash-rolling-pin atop his friend’s head and begin cleaning it.
“There’s a tradition in some countries,” Hiruma begins casually, which is enough of a red flag for Kurita to know that what’s coming out of his mouth isn’t about to be casual at all. “It’s called a king cake. They hide a coin or a plastic baby inside for good luck.”
He cackles and leans against Kurita’s back, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. “Fucking stupid tradition, if you ask me. Devil Bats don’t rely on luck. So I put something else in a few of the cookies instead.”
Kurita glances at the butt of the gun jutting out beside his head, then looks up. “Hiruma!”
“It’s a reminder from their captain—they better be ready to work their asses off!”
The laugh from his body is raucous, and Kurita can feel the vibrations of it. It’s enough to end his protests before they really start.
A bullet isn’t enough to crack anyone’s teeth, is it? It will probably be fine—after all, Hiruma wouldn’t do anything to seriously get in the way of their teammates’ playing.
Kurita makes one more wish for his friends’ safety and good health.
Once the cookies have come out of the oven and cooled, the icing can begin. Kurita looks at their blank forms, trying to imagine iced hair and eyes, but something is missing.
“We should draw Santa hats on everyone, too!” he exclaims suddenly. Why didn’t it occur to him before? “I want everyone to think of the Christmas Bowl when they see their cookies.”
Hiruma snaps a piece off one and pops it into his mouth. “Tastes disgustingly sweet,” he says, wrinkling his nose up in distaste. “Last thing they need is extra icing.”
Hiruma watches over Kurita’s shoulder as the lineman clumsily begins outlining faces and hats. His hand isn’t steady, and the icing tube is hard to control—it comes out in a thin line at first, and then all at once, and Kurita has to scrape some of it off into the sink. By the time he’s done with Eyeshield’s mask, it’s nothing but a green smear with a few wobbly white lines running across the bottom.
Mamori’s turns out particularly rough, one eye practically off the cookie entirely and a crooked, toothy smile that could rival Hiruma’s. Her hat looks more like a horn has sprouted from her head rather than any sort of Christmas accessory.
Hiruma snatches the cookie off the counter and howls with laughter, twisting and turning it under the light.
“This,” he says between breaths, “this is some real blackmail material. She pulls that fucking ogre face exactly when someone steals the last cream puff!”
Kurita scrambles to take the cookie back, knowing Hiruma is near impossible to steal from both on the field and off it—and knowing that somehow, magically, it’s already been immortalized in Hiruma’s book.
“Please put Mamori-chan down,” Kurita begs, making a dive as Hiruma dances nimbly out of the way. He looks up from the floor. “She’s supposed to feel like giving her all when she receives it!”
Hiruma squats down in front of him and dangles the cookie over his head. “You offering a deal?”
Kurita nods so vigorously that his head brushes against the floor. “Anything!”
Dropping Mamori’s face into Kurita’s outstretched hands, Hiruma stands and brushes his hands off on his pants. “Then you’re icing my cookie next, and when I see it, it has better make me feel like we made it to the Christmas Bowl.”
Kurita blinks, caught off-guard. For as long as he can remember, Hiruma had set his jaw over winter vacation and simply run their practices harder and longer. It made Kurita sad to see his friend like that, determined but a little bit ragged, pushing himself harder and harder while watching his goal stay just out of reach.
But this year—this year was different. Wasn’t this the first time Hiruma had participated in something really feeling like winter spirit?
And Kurita has been waiting for this joy, this spark, for a long time.
Trying not to feel too embarrassed, he shuffles around to the other side of the counter. “Actually… I made yours already. Though I know you don’t like sweets.”
Now it’s Hiruma’s turn to be surprised. Kurita is pulling out a celophane gift bag with a snowflake ribbon tied around it, inside which is a stack of messy cookies that have something resembling his own face iced on.
They’re all smiling, eyes drawn arching upward as little crescent moons, and it’s quite possibly the least malicious Hiruma has ever looked in his life.
He laughs again, realizing how easy it’s been to do tonight, and takes the bag from Kurita’s hand.
“I’ll eat them,” Hiruma declares, stomach turning a little at the thought. “No matter how fucking disgusting they are, I’ll eat them all. No fucking cookie is going to get in the way of giving my all for the Christmas Bowl.”
Kurita beams at him. True, he’s not 100% sure what that means, but it’s definitely good.
It’s definitely how Hiruma should feel over winter vacation.
“Actually…” Kurita starts, and when Hiruma looks up the fucking fatty’s arms are full to the brim with bags and bags of holiday cookies. “I made a few test batches of you, too…?”
Hiruma reaches for his machine gun.
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