#Three Tips For Aspiring Authors

[thatsbelievable]

#Three Tips For Aspiring Authors #author #authors #writers #writer #writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writer stuff #life hacks #advice #helpful hints #tips #tricks #sandwiches

[amongemeraldclouds]

not being romantic

Jess Mariano may be cute, possibly charming, but he is most definitely annoying. He certainly can’t hold a candle to your secret pen pal who’s smart, loves books, and aspires to be an author. Or can he?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, mostly fluff, some angst, cursing, suggestiveness. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | 3.3k words

The cafe buzzed with the rush of customers lined up for their afternoon caffeine fix. Coffee machines droned on churning coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows and the smell of baked goods wafted through the air.

You smirked at Jess Mariano before you called the customer to hand them their drink. You proceeded to add another point to your scoreboard, waving your arm for emphasis. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics and hurried up, adding whipped cream to the drink he was preparing. 

Everything was always a game with him. Who could get the highest amount of tips? Who could guess the new customer's coffee order? Who could make the most convincing foreign accent?

Today’s game was: who could make the fastest coffee order?

“You’ve gotten better,” he observed as you grabbed a cup for the next customer. “Aren’t you glad to have had an incredible instructor like me?”

You scoffed, “more like an incredible loser if you don’t hurry up with that order. Just because you taught me, doesn’t mean I’d go easy on you, Mariano,” you taunt, narrowing your eyes for emphasis.

He shook his head with a smile, “I expected nothing less from you.” He made his way to the other end of the counter to call the customer and handed them their drink.  

Another busy shift flew by and before you knew it, it was time to close down the cafe.

You grabbed the scoreboard, beaming with pride. “I won! You can now call me the Queen of Speed, Barista Extraordinaire. Bow down before your queen.”

Jess looked up from where he was wiping the counter with a flat expression. “I’ll call you the Queen of Clean if you help me with these last few tables?”

You frowned at him and stuck your tongue out, of course he had a whole arsenal of retorts with him at any given moment. You grabbed the towel and disinfectant spray from behind the counter and moved to wipe down the tables. “You’re no fun, but I’ll let it slide since you now owe me a favor.”

“As long as I don’t have to help you dispose of a body then it’s fine,” he replied, eyebrow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, “if I ever need to dispose a body, it would probably be yours.”

“Are you confessing to something you’ll commit? I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you sighed, pinching your nose. The conversation was getting more and more off topic by the second. “You, however, will be the dea*h of me.”

“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” he nodded as he set aside the towel and grabbed the key, ready to close for the evening. Of course that wasn't the first time that line was directed at him.

“You’re just trying to avoid what you owe me. Stop deflecting, Mariano,” you accused, heading towards him to return the cleaning materials. “I need your help with my toaster, it stopped working and I can’t afford to get it fixed or replaced. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course, anything for the Queen of Speed,” he replied.

“You forgot Barista Extraordinaire,” you added helpfully.

Jess just shook his head as if to say, I can’t win with you. He fought the smile that threatened to break across his features. Perhaps you too had your own arsenal of comebacks.

With the final turn of the key, the door swung in and you and Jess headed into your tiny apartment. It was a studio that’s three steps away from the kitchen, five steps away from the bathroom, and ten steps away from the bed. You liked to keep it simple, minimalistic. It definitely had nothing to do with the cheap rent.

“Welcome to my apartment. It’s not much but it’s home,” you said, gesturing around the place.

“It’s cozy and it’s very you,” he remarked.

You folded your arms and stared at him, “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Let me see. Second hand furniture, potted plants around the area, and the artwork looks similar to your napkin doodles. Don’t think I didn’t notice them. It’s a mosaic of different things, but you managed to tie it all together and make it work. It’s just like you to make good out of a potentially bad situation,” he observed.

“Slow down there or you’ll end up hosting shows about house tours,” you teased. “And hey, I’ll take the compliment. Who knew Jess Mariano could be nice?”

He shrugged, “I just call it like I see it.”

You took the three steps necessary to reach the kitchen. “Here’s the troublemaker, by the way. Not you, well, aside from you,” you amended and pointed to the toaster. “Not sure what’s wrong, it just stopped working.”  

He approached you and it struck you just how small the kitchen was, certainly not big enough for two. When you turned to speak to him, all the words left your mind as you realized you’re only inches away from him. Heat crept up your cheeks and you blinked.

Jess smirked at your reaction, keenly aware of the effect he had to you. That cocky bastard. He leaned in a bit closer and your breath hitched. “You know, if you just wanted me over at your place, there’s a lot of other fun things I can help you with.” You scrunched your nose and took a step back, immediately transported to the area you considered your bedroom. “If that’s your way of confessing your feelings for me, it’s not very romantic at all. Thought you’d have more game than that, Mariano,” you hedged.

“Oh, that’s because I’m not trying to be romantic. If I were trying....” he said, taking a step forward, closing the distance you tried to place between you. He brushed the hair away from your cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender coming from Jess. You took in how soft his lips looked up close.

When he touched the side of your face, your attention returned to his soulful eyes. “...I’d do something like this,” he concluded, his breath against your lips like the ghost of a kiss. That’s all it took for him to steal the breath from your lungs.

You’re disoriented when cool air greets you again as he took a step back and the only trace left is the fading warmth from where his hand caressed your cheek. “But like I said, I’m not trying to be romantic,” he shrugged.

You cleared your throat, brushing off the lingering heat of the interaction. You ignored the pang of disappointment that hit you. Besides, someone else already had your heart, this was nothing but a silly little crush. “Well can you please try to fix my toaster?” you asked, trying to stay on topic as always.

“Sure, I have tools at home. I can take it with me and bring it back when I’m done.”

You nodded, “okay thank you. Let me just grab a bag you can carry it in.”

He scanned the room while you opened the cabinet to grab a reusable bag.

“Why do you have lots of mail?” He asked, thumbing through the pile of opened envelopes on your kitchen counter.

You mulled over the question, unsure how much you wanted to share with Jess Mariano and risk a round of his teasing. Then again, you could handle Jess. “Well, there’s this guy I really like. We send each other letters. If you really want to know what romantic is, Mariano, it’s hand written letters. No one bothers to write them anymore. There’s something sweet and sincere about it.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m not really sure. I got his first letter from the bookstore I frequent, the employee handed it to me and I asked him to hand back my reply. We just kept going from there, I think the mystery just adds to the romance.”

Jess shot you a worried look. “You mean to say, you’re corresponding with a complete stranger? For all you know he’s hiding his identity because he’s a stalker or a serial killer.”

“Please, he is not. He is smart, funny, and he’s writing a book. I just don’t feel like he’s that type of person.”

“You’re going off this based on your feelings? I don’t think that’s wise or safe.”

“Jess, it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, having had enough of him for the day. After handing him the bag with the broken toaster, you shoved him towards the door and out from your apartment, wishing him a good night.  

“That was quick,” you said as you headed out of the cafe and walked towards Jess’ apartment to retrieve your now functional toaster.

Jess shrugged, “it was no big deal, just had a few loose screws to reattach. Speaking of loose screws, how about that imaginary boyfriend of yours? Finally decide to reveal himself?” 

You sighed, Jess had been on your case the whole week since you told him about your mysterious crush. Needless to say, you regretted telling him about it. “No, but he hasn’t written to me recently,” you pondered. “He must be busy writing his book.”

“Or planning your untimely demise,” he retorts.

“Jess, I swear,” you grit your teeth, “I’ll be planning your untimely demise if you don’t drop it. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

“Well I’m trying to look out for a coworker, why does this have to be about me? But hey, I’ll drop it,” he relented. “Besides, I won today so you owe me a favor.”

You groaned, but don’t say anything further. He won fair and square, you were ready to accept your fate.

Jess continued, “My uncle sent some food last night and I have a lot more than I can finish myself. Help me with that before you leave with your toaster?”

“Jess Mariano,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “are you asking me out for dinner?”   

“No,” he quickly said and then caught himself. “We’re not going out, we’re dining in. Besides if I were being romantic, I might bring you flowers, pick you up, take you somewhere nice. So this,” he said, pointing between him and you, “is not me being romantic.”

“And there goes Mr. Defensive,” you smirked. Of course he was not being romantic, not to you. He had a hundred and one ways to tease and annoy you but never to charm you. Still, you couldn’t help the way it killed you just a little inside.

“I swear if you tell me this is where the magic happens, I will smack your head,” you deadpan as Jess opened the door to his apartment.

“Why does that turn me on?” He teased. Your face twisted in confusion and disgust and Jess laughed triumphantly, having drawn out a reaction from you. You had no idea you were adorable, he thought.

“Just welcome to my home then,” he said. 

You stepped in, admiring his cozy space. You imagined a messy home with leftover containers and soda cans strewn about reeking of old laundry and faded furniture. You had little to no expectations at all.

Instead what greeted you was a small space, similar to yours. The bed was made, blanket tucked in neat corners and the furniture, while undoubtedly secondhand, was well maintained. If anything, the mismatched pillows against the pale blue sofa and the sanded down wooden table gave it personality. It smelled like subtle household cleaners and carried the scent that is so distinctly Jess, a mixture of soap and sweat, plus a hint of cologne he would never admit to wearing.

“It’s very you,” you remarked, “and I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

He shrugged, handing you your toaster, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Thanks again for the toaster. Now there’s only one troublemaker here in this room,” you quipped as you move towards his kitchen to help him set the dinner table.

“That’s definitely you,” he replied, handing you the plates and utensils while he moved to heat up the food from the fridge. “Hand me the glasses over there?” He asked, pointing to the drawers on the opposite end.

You nodded, setting down the plates on the table and headed towards the drawer. “Well, I’ll let it slide just this time because you’re feeding me and I can’t say no to free food. Thank you Jess,” you said, a small hint of affection blooming in your chest.

You opened the first drawer and found only papers. You were about to close it to check the next drawer when the familiar edge of stationery caught your eye. It was exactly the type of paper you smiled at for hours on end, trying to memorize each word. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted a half written letter to your eyes. A half written letter addressed to you.

A storm of emotions struck you then: confusion, hurt, and anger. All this time. The boy who weaseled his way into your heart, who called you cute in his first letter and wanted to get to know you. Who charmed you into the romantic idea of secret identities like spies undercover. Who shared your love for books and had the best recommendations that made you feel seen like no one ever has. Who spoke about his love for writing with a passion that inspired you. 

All this time it was Jess Mariano.

All this time it was a lie.

Just another one of his games.

“What about those gla—” he stopped mid-sentence when he turned back and saw you reading his letter.

“Fuck,” he exhaled softly as heat crept into his cheeks.

You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Mr. Fantastic Writer?” You huffed, trying to quell the tears that threatened to choke you. 

Jess opened his mouth and closed it, wanting to say a million words and failing. You watched the war raging in his head.

“Well then indeed, fuck!” You exclaimed in frustration. “And fuck you too. I know you love your games Jess, but you can’t just go around playing with other people’s feelings.”

You retreat and grabbed your things, shaking your head. “God, I feel like such a fool.”

You threw the door behind you and was a few steps away when you realized you left your toaster. Shame and betrayal marched with you as you opened his door again and found him still frozen where you left him.

“I’m just here for my toaster, which I actually need. Unlike you, I don’t need anything from you, Jess. I’ve read and heard enough,” you said, your voice wavered at the end and tears spilled down your cheeks.

You turned away from embarrassment, toaster in hand, and ran the rest of the way home. He didn’t deserve to hear your sobbing. He didn’t even deserve any of your tears. He was just a stupid boy that your stupid heart fell for. No big deal.

The next week passed in a blur. Unable to switch shifts with anyone else, you called in sick at the cafe and lived life between your university, the library, and your apartment. Never mind that you needed the pay, you could drown in instant noodles for all you cared. It didn’t matter anyway. A broken heart never cared for a full stomach.

That Friday, you were about to call it a night when the doorbell rang. The was odd, you thought, you weren’t expecting anyone. 

“You’ve got the wrong—” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the last person you ever wanted to see, Jess Mariano holding a bouquet of flowers and books. If it were any other day, it might have sent butterflies to your stomach. Now all it did was fan the flames of your anger because it was much easier to be angry than hurt.

You slammed the door close but Jess stopped it with his outstretched arm. “Are you trying to get yourself injured?” You accused and you hated it, how much you still cared.

“Please, I just need to talk,” he said, pain and sincerity etched in his handsome face.

You sighed and let him in, not wanting to cause a scene at the hallway. “You have five minutes,” you held up your hand for emphasis.

“Fine, five minutes,” he breathed, steeling himself. "Here’s a story for you: I met this girl working at a cafe. She’s smart and quick witted, she never runs out of comebacks. Her smile makes my day and I needed to see more of it so I came up with these games. And damn it, I looked forward to going to work every day because of her.

There was a nagging at the back of my mind to get to know her better. I wanted her to get to know me too, but I have a track record of screwing things up so I sent a letter. Just one couldn’t hurt, right?

Clearly, I underestimated her. One letter was never going to be enough. I loved hearing about her dreams, her stories, the inside jokes we created along the way. Without meaning to, I fell for her. I fell for you. It was never a game for me, all of it was real. Is still real.

When I heard you liked your secret pen pal too, I didn’t know if I should reveal myself or just disappear, let you forget me. Of course, I screwed things up again. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you but clearly I have. Would you give me a second chance? I’m not good at this but I want to try."

He’s breathless by the time he ends his speech and you take a moment as the words settled in. No wonder he discouraged your interest in your secret pen pal, which also turned out to be him.

You sighed, “you really screwed it up.” Your heart broke all over again only to come back whole together because he did like you. All those silly gestures he brushed off really did mean something. And the boy you loved through letters and your cafe crush turned out to be the same person.

You pondered his question. The way he went about it was all wrong, but a second chance might be worth a shot. “Fine, we can start over, but you’ll have to make it up to me. You owe me unlimited favors.”

“I'll fix all the toasters you need,” he said, presenting you with the bouquet of flowers and books.

“Oh you’ll have to do more than that. I have a broken bulb on the ceiling, the heater needs fixing, and the microwave will definitely break tomorrow,” you taunted him, accepting his bouquet nevertheless.

He just smiled, “I have a lot to make up for, but I’ll do it for you.” He moved closer to you, bringing the bouquet to rest on the kitchen counter, so he can wrap his arms around you. “You’re worth it,” he whispered in your ear and you hugged him back, fighting off the delicious chill that ran through your back from his words. Being in his arms felt so right.

“You like me,” you sing, teasing him like a child and you enjoy the way his chest rumbles against you as he laughs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Besides, you like me back.”

You removed yourself from his hug, already missing his warm embrace. “I never said I liked you,” you teased. 

Mock hurt danced across his features, “what’s not to like?”

You laughed at his arrogance, the need to touch him overwhelming everything else. “Fine,” you relented, “we can call it even.”

You closed the distance this time, “just to be clear, this is you being romantic?”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Yes, this is me being romantic and I will show you so much more,” he said, bringing his lips to yours with a thousand unsaid promises you were about to discover.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ When I came across a Jess Mariano fic, I just knew I had to write one too. Jess and his sarcastic ass in a (sort of) rivals to lovers trope, heck yes. ✿ Thanks to my lovely wife @pizzaapeteer for encouraging me to write this all those weeks ago ♡ ✿ Published this fic from a cafe, very on brand for the story.

#jess mariano #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls #amongemeraldcloudswrites

[nanowrimo]

Pro Tips from a NaNo Coach: How to Write a Clean(ish) Fast Draft

NaNoWriMo can seem like a daunting task sometimes, for NaNo newbies and veterans alike. Fortunately, our NaNo Coaches are here to help guide you through November! Today, author Jesse Q. Sutanto is here to share her advice on how to set yourself up for noveling success:

Dear Nano-ers,

My first book took me three years to cobble together. During that time, I joined Absolute Write—a free writers forum which I completely love and recommend to all aspiring writers—and I made a friend who convinced me to try doing NaNoWriMo. I was completely unconvinced, but I am a people-pleaser and I can never say no, so I agreed to try it for my second novel.

My second novel took me less than a month to write. It was a complete mess, but it was also a revelation. Often, I felt myself falling into that writing Holy Grail—the hole which consumes you, makes you forget the rest of the world, and absorbs you completely in the world you are creating on paper. I loved the process deeply, and never looked back since. All of my subsequent books have since been written in a matter of months. 

And you know what? They were all a horrific mess. I did not learn how to do a clean and fast draft until my NINTH book, and I don’t think I would’ve ever learnt without the help of NaNoWriMo. So here are my tips on how to best tackle a sprint-a-thon like NaNo. 

1. Try to come up with a loose outline.

When I first started writing, I was a pure pantser. I had no idea what was going to happen before I sat down to write. This is a completely legit way of writing, but I have since learned that it is massively helpful to have an idea, even a vague one, of what you are trying to say with your book. What was really helpful for me was to sit down for just five minutes before writing each scene and try to envision what I wanted the scene to achieve. Once I had that in mind, the scene became much easier to write. 

2. Break down your writing time.

Ever heard of the Pomodoro technique? In order to hit 50,000 words a month, you need to write around 1,600 words a day. That is a heck of a lot of words to write! Break it down. Set 10 or 15-minute timers and use that to your advantage. Trust me, if you told me to sit down and write 1,600 words, I would be like, “Omg that’s too much!” But if you told me to just write for 15 minutes, that feels a lot more doable. 

3. Give yourself permission to write trash.

Before each writing session, I actually say out loud: “I am going to write trash.” And this gives me permission to write whatever comes to my mind without judgment. You can always edit later, but for now, focus on letting the words out on paper. 

4. Lean on others for support.

I made the mistake of thinking that writing is a lonely vocation. In fact, it is one of the most social things I could do. Social media, while a double-edged sword, has done so much for the writing community. I have found all of my close writer friends through social media, and I chat with them every day and consider them my close, lifelong friends. Don’t be afraid to reach out and make connections within the community. You are not alone. 

Jesse Q. Sutanto is the award-winning, bestselling author of Dial A for Aunties, Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers, Well, That Was Unexpected, The Obsession, and Theo Tan and the Fox Spirit. The film rights to her women’s fiction, Dial A for Aunties, was bought by Netflix in a competitive bidding war, and the TV rights to Vera Wong was bought by Warner Bros, with Oprah and Mindy Kaling attached to produce. She has a master’s degree in creative writing from Oxford University, though she hasn’t found a way of saying that without sounding obnoxious.

#nanowrimo #writing #nanowrimo 2023 #writing advice #writing tips #writblr #by nano coach #jesse q. sutanto

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm a teen aspiring author. I live in a house with three children and my walls and door are not very soundproof. Do you have any tips to get focused not by reducing distractions but getting focused while still being in the middle of chaos?

Focusing Despite the Chaos

Even if you can't eliminate distractions, it's still worth trying to minimize them, so I want to start there... then I'll get to what to do if you can't. Here are some things you might be able to try...

1 - Minimizing Noise - In a perfect world we could all afford a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones, but there are other ways to minimize the noise that reaches your ears. For example, many convenience stores and stores with pharmacy areas sell packets of disposable ear plugs for just a few dollars. These can reduce noise enough to make it less distracting, so definitely worth a try.

2 - Utilize Continuous Sound/"Noise Colors" - Continuous sound, like the deep rumble of a waterfall or the gentle roar of heavy rain, falls on a spectrum called noise colors. White Noise covers all frequencies equally, so it provides a soothing background hum that can help to minimize other sounds. You can find white noise generators via different apps and places like YouTube or web sites like A Soft Murmur. Or, you can put on a loud fan, air purifier, air conditioner, etc. Pink Noise is a little softer, like the fall of gentle rain, so this might be something like a fan on a lower setting. Brown noise is a step lower than that, like the ambient noise you get from having the window open on a quiet but breezy day. White, pink, or brown noise can be a great way to reduce the impact of chaos coming from the rest of the house.

3 - Put on a YouTube Ambience Room - YouTube is absolutely bursting with "ambience rooms" and channels dedicated to study music, sleep music, relaxation music, etc. These can be a fantastic way to promote focus, not only because they give you something steady to listen to, you can often find things that gel thematically with whatever you're writing, which can help you block out other distractions.

4 - Try a ZenWare Writing Program - OmmWriter, ZenWriter, Focus Writer, and others provide features that help you focus on your writing, such as simple interfaces, special typing sounds, white noise and sound generators, and word counters. These are not typically free but are usually reasonably priced.

5 - Shift Your Writing Time - Even a chaotic house has its quiet times. It could be early in the morning before everyone else is awake, late at night after everyone else is in bed, during mealtime, or when everyone is away. Pay attention to when the chaos is at its lowest each day and try to utilize those times for writing if you can.

When you can't minimize the chaos...

Any combination of the above tactics can still be great ways to help you focus a little more, even if it doesn't really reduce the noise or chaos. Just having things like a special screen or special audio to focus on can help you mentally block out distractions. To some degree, it's something that takes some trial and error--to see which tactics work for you--and practice. I know writers who can write on plans, trains, buses, car rides, in the middle of busy places... it's just something they did out of necessity and got good at with time. You will, too. ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[shroomsroom]

hey! i was wondering if you could do female reader x johnny having a really bad fight, and after y/n dresses in a rlly skimpy outfit, they have passionate make up sx. thanks!

Summary: In which you find Johnny’s smoking annoying and make him make it up to you. Warnings: Very much aged up Johnny, like 5 years aged. smut Author's Note: This is very inspired by “In My Feelings” by Lana Del Rey. Also this is kinda short. It’d been about three week since you saw Johnny, maybe 4, but you stopped counting after 10 days. You and your boyfriend of 5 years each had different aspirations, and when you met at 16, you hadn’t thought smoking would be one of his. Sure it was a small passtime, an every-now-and-then treat, but his addiction got bad. It got so bad, you packed up and left. Now, you and your friends decided that today you would be a tough bitch. You didn’t need him, didn’t need any man. They showed up at your house a little past 6, a makeup bag and some hair rollers, ready to doll you up and take you out. You pulled out the prettiest (and most revealing) outfit you had, ready to drink away your sorrows. The music in Buck’s rang in your ears, the pounding bass matching the beat of your heart. As you danced the whiskey and gin in your system worked to make you forget about your prior despair, all until an arm wrapped around your waist. The smell of cigarette smoke clung heavily to the denim jacket of the man behind you. You peeked up at who was behind you, only to be shocked by Johnny. “Thought I told you to quit” You poked at his cigarette and he flicked it to the ground. He didn’t say a word as he dragged you into the nearby bathroom.  “Can’t seem to get you out of my mind,” he says slowly, testing the waters. He picked you up and placed you on the bathroom counter. “I can see that” You pressed at his hard-on with the tip of your heels. He smiled, and grabbed your hand, pressing kisses onto your palm. “‘Missed you” he said. “Not enough to quit.” You pulled your hand back slightly. “I promise, I will. Let me treat you right..” And how could you deny your man? Each touch burned, a cooling sting followed. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, your sensitivity showed it. The tension was palpable as he worked his length into your cunt. His prep was fast and messy, all because of the overwhelming need to be close to you, to be with you. You gripped his shoulders as he started to thrust into you, slow and deep, just like you like it. You moaned loudly, and almost screamed when his fingers found their way to your clit, shaking fingers tracing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He cursed as you squeezed around him, a string of rambles leaving his lips. It was too much and it sent you reeling over the edge, and he followed after. He kissed your nose and pulled out. “Shit, if this is my reward, I’d quit everything for you..” He mumbled, lovesick eyes watching you with hazy desire. Laughter bubbled from your chest. “Oh, Johnny.”

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade smut #johnny cade x reader #johnny cade x reader smut

[appaloosawhims]

sims 3 barbie legacy challenge

this is pretty much a conversation from the sims 4 barbie legacy challenge by @sims-himbo but i did change up some of the generations as well just to use more features from ts3 that arent in ts4 as add some extra optional ones for occult/supernatural players

mods i recommend downloading

• nraas porter (for moving towns without traveler file bloat)

• nraas master controller

• family secrets (in case you wanna add drama)

rules

• all heirs must be female and named barbie

• you can use money cheats just starting out but nothing after that

• do not sell the future portal that is summoned when you first start a save, to get rid of it “testingcheatsenabled true > shift click > delete” no free money here

gen one: housewife barbie

• complete the surrounded by family lifetime wish

• you must never get a job, earn money through opportunities, painting, playing the guitar for tips, etc

• have at least one pet

• must have the family oriented and nurturing traits

gen two: business barbie

• complete the ceo of a mega corporation lifetime wish

• be worth at least 50k simeoleans

• master logic and charisma skills

• must have ambitious and born saleswoman traits

gen three: equestrian barbie

• complete the ark builder aspiration

• dont have an actual job and make money through horse riding competitions

• all of your children must have a small pet of their own (by small i mean snake, lizard, turtle, etc)

• must have the equestrian trait

gen four: sea pearl barbie

• move to isla paradiso

• become a mermaid

• master the grand explorer lifetime wish

• live on a houseboat

• master the scuba diving and logic skills

• must have the loves to swim trait

gen five: best seller barbie

• complete the professional author lifetime wish

• max writing skill

• master the journalism career

• must have the artistic, bookworm and virtuoso traits

gen six: academic barbie

• complete the perfect studio lifetime wish

• max out the nerds social group

• master the science and painting skills

• earn a fine arts degree

• must have the socially awkward and genius traits

gen seven: movie star barbie

• complete the superstar actor lifetime wish

• become a 5 star celebrity

• have a secret affair with a fellow actor

• master the film career (acting branch)

• fall in love with a non celebrity

• master the charisma skill

• must have the star quality, schmoozer and charismatic traits

gen eight: rockstar barbie

• complete the one sim one band lifetime wish

• master the music career (rock star branch)

• must have the virtuoso trait

gen nine: president barbie

• complete the leader of the free world lifetime wish

• be the richest sim in town

• max the politics career

• never be lower than a 2 star celebrity

• must have the charismatic trait

gen ten: time traveling barbie

• complete the made the most of my time lifetime wish

• become best friends with emit relevant

• build a plumbot

• master the bot building, advanced technology, and handiness skills

• own a jetpack

• must have the ambitious and bot fan traits

optional generations

gen eleven: vampire barbie

• move to midnight hollow

• complete the turn the town lifetime wish

• must have the proper and night owl traits

gen twelve: fairy barbie

• move to moonlight falls and live their for the rest of the legacy

• complete the mystic healer lifetime wish

• marry and fall in love with a werewolf since fairies live longer do not get into another relationship after they die

• must have the gatherer trait

gen thirteen: werewolf barbie

• complete the leader of the pack lifetime wish

• purchase the alpha wolf lifetime reward

• must have the loves the outdoors trait

gen fourteen: witch barbie

• complete the greener gardens lifetime wish

• master the fortune teller career (scam artist branch)

• master the charmisa, logic, gardening, and alchemy skills

• must have the evil and green thumb traits

#sims legacy challenge #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy challenge #sims 3 legacy #the sims 3 #ts3 #barbie legacy #ts3 barbie legacy

[nininikki]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 | eren jaeger x black

II. what did i tell you?

✧ summary! — following a blundered primary and a heated argument with his wife, eren knows exactly who to call.

✧ warnings! — mentions of alcohol consumption, suggestive sexual language, adultery (eren is an aspiring cheater again), age gap—reader is 29 and eren is 40

✧ author’s note! — part 2 is here! so happy that you all are loving this series & i thank you for all the support!! 🤎🪽 lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!

✧ word count! — 2.5k

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION 

“i can’t even…” mikasa sputtered, running a shaky hand through the sable—and once perfectly coiffed—hair atop her head. “i can’t believe you, eren.” she let the sleek mop of her fur coat droop down her arms, seemingly indifferent as to whether or not it landed on the nearby coat rack. as he watched it collide with the tile floor of their foyer, eren recalled the eight thousand dollar price with a scoff.

“save it, mika.” eren huffed, trying to drown out the sounds of her heels clicking against the floor as she tailed him into the living room.

“oh, trust me, i have. i saved it on the bus. i saved it on the plane. i even saved it on the ride home when it was just the two of us.”

“i meant save it for someone who wants to hear it, ‘cause i sure as hell don’t, mikasa.” he blew the words out as an exasperated sigh.

mikasa barked, the tone of her voice akin to a creaky window. “i’m gonna speak now, and you will hear every word!” 

eren could tell just by the way the words scratched against her throat that she was about to lay it on thick. and mikasa had a very poor habit of not knowing when to fucking stop. if he wanted to listen to someone berate him for every mistake he’d ever made, he’d pick up the phone and call his father.

“honestly, eren, do you even want this election?”

“of course i do. do you not see how hard i’ve been working?”

“oh, is that what that was? were you working hard at that primary, because all you managed to do was piss me off.”

“don’t start with me right now. i’m not in the damn mood for this.”

“and you think i am? you think i’m in the mood to be having this conversation?” mikasa laughed, but it felt more like a sarcastically delighted scoff. her eyes went glossy with something familiarly maniacal, and eren could more than tell what she was getting ready to do. arranging a beautiful artillery of words at the tip of her tongue for the sole purpose of destroying him in that very moment. “i mean, do you not realize how lucky you are? you’re smart, you’re rich, you’re handsome, you come from one of the most powerful families in the country. you could have the office right now if you wanted. but you don’t want it.

“i had dreams, y’know. i could’ve been a partner at my firm, but i gave it up. and for what? so you could screw around behind that podium?” mikasa kicked out of her shoes before hooking the heels under her fingers.

eren released the bridge of his nose from the pressing grip of his fingers. “i’ll be at the guest house tonight.”

mikasa only sighed. they seldom got in fights that led to them sleeping separately, but in those rare instances, it was the best (and sometimes the only) option. “right. well, get some rest. we’re meeting with levi tomorrow.”

he took a chance glance into his wife’s eyes—an oasis of grey, brimming with thoughts and emotions of which she had barred his access. save for the frustration evident on all the other parts of her face.

it was so eerily similar to that of his mother. he could count on both hands the number of times she blinked that same world-weary gaze in his father’s direction. how long had she been sleeping in the guest bedroom before she’d considered a divorce?

“yeah. you too.”

14 MAY, SIX MONTHS AFTER THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

“don’t even try to deny it.” mikasa said. a sick, wifely part of her burned with satisfaction at the sight of your infuriatingly beautiful face—cracked into a myriad of distressing pieces, like a plate she’d just struck with a hammer. “and before you ask, no. i don’t have proof.” if she were being a hundred percent honest with herself, it hadn’t even crossed her mind to gather any proof. what had her marriage done to her? she was a lawyer, and top of her class, godamnit! if eren’s classless affair reduced her to a point of throwing around baseless accusations, then she was just as bad as him. which meant that she needn’t waste any more time on this than absolutely necessary. “but i don’t need any, either. i mean, look at you two.”

you scoffed, seeming to forget that your glass was empty and being met with a jarring (and actually rather rude) slurping noise. thankfully, the waiter was there to swipe the glass from your hand before any more damage to her ears could be done. although, mikasa was almost sick with pleasure as she watched your futile attempt at trying not to crumble. “look at—look at what, exactly?”

“i don’t know what it was, but part of me could just tell he wanted you. maybe it was me being his wife and such, but i just knew. that first night i introduced you two, he had this—this hard-on in his eyes whenever he looked at you.” she thought back to that very night. where you’d seemingly been oblivious to her husband ogling you like you were a piece of meat. “but i could deal with that. i could screw him a little more often. we were supposed to be trying anyway. but then,” at the mention of them trying, mikasa caught you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, and thought to herself, good. she hoped your mind would run itself wild imagining all the trying they did.

“but then?”

mikasa had to brace herself. because eren could be as horny for as many twenty year olds as he wanted. he could have as many stupid, meaningless affairs as he wanted. him being unhappy in their marriage, she could handle that. her husband being careless enough to risk his presidency over some college freshman, she could handle that. none of it would’ve been worse than what he actually did. “i think he actually started to like you.”

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

you put your house phone out of its ringing misery with a clipped, “hello,” for you had barely graced past your front door and kicked off your heels when it began it’s treacherous trill.

“bad time?” the voice on the other end answered, a voice you immediately (and with some chagrin) recognized to be governor eren jaeger. it’s smooth and relaxed, like he’s just ran a glass of whiskey down his throat. your drunken timbre feels clumsy in comparison.

“oh.” you realize aloud, situating yourself at the foot of your bed. “hi, mr. governor.”

“unh-unh. what did i tell you?”

almost giddily, you plunged your head backwards into your plush, messy comforter, your house phone still clutched in your fingers. “eren.” a low hum rumbled through the receiver, as palpable as though your ear was pressed against his chest. this was an unbelievably bad time for you. your body was still mangled with remnants of fun. you were drunk, sprinkled in party glitter, and you had sporadically made out with jean kirschtein, so you were a little horny too.

“that’s better.” this was so incredibly bad for you. eren was so incredibly bad for you. he was even more enticing over the phone, if not more so. you were so stupid, and you were so screwed if you stayed on the phone with him any longer.

but, really, you couldn’t help yourself. “well, eren, how’d you get my number?” 

“uh, mikasa, actually. she wrote it in my planner.”

“that sounds like her. are you forgetful like that?” in the background, you heard the almost hypnotizing sounds of ice clink-ing against a glass. somehow, you just knew it was scotch he was drinking, and you couldn’t fight the various mental images that came with that knowing. 

eren only chuckled, and you could practically feel the scotch roll down his throat. “oh, she doesn’t do it for me. it’s in case her planner gets caught in a fire or something.”

at that, a clumsy laugh punched from your throat. “can’t tell if you’re funny or if i’m just drunk.”

“which do you think it is?” your dress suddenly began to feel like a thousand pounds of hot fur on your body rather than the skimpy piece of sequins that it was. eren did that to you. and when you left an ecstatic giggle in the form of your answer, he only further egged you on in your flustered state. “what, you think i’m funny? c’mon tell me.”

if he were in front of you at that moment, you would’ve slipped from your dress without a second’s hesitation. how crazy would it be for you to take your dress off while you were on the phone with him? it’s not like he’d see it or anything. but you so desperately wanted him to, and the fact that he wouldn’t made you so fucking crazy. “i think that you’re lots of things, eren.”

“mhm, like what?”

“can’t say. i’m too drunk.” you let your eyes press shut for a bit, trying almost futilely to think of anything that didn’t involve flashing the governor of california. “and, hey, why’d you call me, anyway? not that i mind or anything, but don’t you have, like, an election to win?”

eren breathed a sigh—docile, yet so strangely and dangerously persuasive. “yeah, but…talking to you is a lot more fun.”

“noooo, come on. tell me the real reason.”

“that is the real reason. i swear on it. we actually were supposed to call you at some point and congratulate you on the premiere. just figured i should get around to it now.”

“do you call all your famous actress friends at—” you cut your eyes over to the alarm clock on your bedside table. “—almost one in the morning? i mean, you’re lucky i was coming home from a party, and not dead asleep or something.”

“party, huh?”

“yeah.” you actually couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed together. “still got my dress on and everything.”

“really?” the muffled sound of him shuffling in his seat made you pinch your lip between your teeth.

you giggled, a reaction you’d probably have to start getting used to for as long as you were around him. “yeah.”

“bet you look real pretty.” he thinks i’m pretty. you could’ve moaned at the thought. 

suddenly, your voice was a higher, breathier octave. like you were whispering the words in his ears. “are you thinking about what i look like in my dress?”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

you wanted to take it further. you wanted to ask him what he was wearing. you wanted to ask him if you were making him hard, although a part of you knew you were. you wanted to slide your fingers under your panties and let him hear just how bad he was for you.

just as desire began to pool in your belly, so did a sharp pang of guilt. married man, married man, married man. but he had thrown a few compliments your way and you managed to forget all about that.

“eren,” how wrong would it be for you to slide your dress up your legs until it bunched at your waist? “you know we...” if you slipped the straps off your shoulders and let the rest fall from there, what then? “we c—”

“i know, i know.” he cooed, and his voice crawled out of the receiver and laced you with something. you needed him to whisper those words over your ears, or between your lips, or against whatever body part of yours he’d just finished kissing. you needed it so bad you could’ve cried. “i’m sorry.”

you sat upright, feeling immediately more sober than you had all night. “don’t be.”

“let me. let me be sorry, because i am.” the way he spoke to you was so toothachingly sweet, you think you would walk yourself off a cliff if he was talking you through it. “‘m sorry.”

your eyes close, and you were not sure if they were fluttering shut from tiredness or pressing closed from angst. the only thing you were sure of was that this conversation couldn’t possibly continue any longer. “it’s alright. i think i should be getting to bed anyway. i don’t usually stay up this late talking to future presidents.”

eren chuckled. “maybe you should do it more often.”

“maybe i should.”

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

“what the fuck,” was how you answered the phone the following morning. you had fallen asleep with it still tucked against your ear and clutched between your fingers, so you’d felt its ringing in all of its chirruping treachery. 

“bad time again?” eren responded, his voice tiptoeing over a laugh. 

“extremely.” you sat up in bed and took a chance glance at your bedside clock. the only person who could get a pre-eleven o’clock answer from you on one of your off days was hange. and even they knew that the resulting response was usually so grouchy that they’d be better off not bothering. so it all but bewildered you as to why you’d even let eren stay on the phone long enough to come to this realization. “it’s barely ten.”

“so i gather you’re not a morning person?” eren seemed to be the exact opposite. his voice was as brilliantly ecstatic at ten in the morning as yours would normally be after a shot of tequila. it made you want to swing your curtains open and stand tall in the sun, even with the headache spearing through your skull.

despite the small onslaught of revelations, you answered, “if it wasn’t obvious enough.”

“sooo, i’m assuming this is a really bad time to invite you to dinner with mikasa and i.”

“dinner?”

you’re only briefly surprised at his audacity to ask you to dinner with his wife after the night you two had. but then again, you doubt he would’ve even called you if she hadn’t planted your number in his planner. the realization was an emotional whiplash that wasn’t helped by your hungover state. 

“uh, yeah. i meant to ask last night, but i guess i didn’t really get around to it.”

i wonder why, you’d wanted to say, but suppressed the urge with a cough. “oh, well, i—”

“and don’t feel pressured to say yes. i know my wife can be a force.”

his wife. the woman who probably awoke him this morning with a smattering of kisses. the woman who felt his arms wrap around her in the comfort of their bed not two minutes after he’d gotten off the phone with you. the same woman whose eyes were filled with nothing but guilt-inducing kindness when she invited you over for golf that night.

the answer should be a flat no. sorry, eren. i don’t think i can do dinner with you and your wife. partly because i’m very obviously and very, very inappropriately sexually attracted to you. and partly because i think i’m a little jealous of your wife. i haven’t quite unpacked that part yet, but i’m sure here—on the phone with you—is probably the worst place to do it. yeah, uh, bye. so, when you fix your stupid lips to say, “eren, the last thing you could ever do is pressure me. of course i’ll go.” you can only assume it’s for those same reasons.

tags ✧˖*°࿐ — @nyanglock @beyondsuki @westcinny @taylarxse @ittostan @rensbby @madsoncrack @shawtynoire @braxxinterlude @kai7911

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

#nikki writes ✶ #attack on titan #aot #aot fanfiction #snk #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin eren #shingeki no kyoujin smut #eren jaeger fanart #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x black reader

[deancaspinefest]

stay in my arms (if you dare)

Author: FollowingButterflies | Artist: comfycowboy Posting on Thursday March 2

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean. Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other. 

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Dean wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he met his new bodyguard, probably some bald, suited hulking guy even taller than Sam with the body shape of a nacho chip and the personality of a mossy boulder. Whatever it was that Dean had been anticipating, Krushnic wasn't it. He was shorter than Dean, even if only by an inch or so. He was also more slender than Dean had been expecting, with a slim runner's body but still muscular. Instead of a suit, he wore what looked like a buttery soft leather jacket with the sleeves haphazardly pushed up to the elbows. Dean couldn't help but notice the strong-looking muscles in Krushnic's forearms, both of which were covered in tattoos. Tattoos that Dean was just itching to get a closer look at. Despite his face being half hidden behind aviator sunglasses, Dean had a hunch that Krushnic was one good-looking motherfucker. That hunch was confirmed when Krushinic lowered his sunglasses, finally looking Dean square in the eyes. Brilliant blue eyes, a jawline so sharp it should have been a crime and, holy fuck, lips that made Dean’s brain go into a tailspin of pretty pornographic images. Forget being someone’s bodyguard, this Krushnic guy should have been on the front cover of the artsy music magazines that Claire had piled up in her bedroom. Well shit. This was going to be interesting. Okay, sure. Dean had spent the best part of a decade surrounded by attractive people. He lived in fucking Los Angeles, after all. If he threw a rock down Melrose Avenue, it would probably hit at least three aspiring actors and two models. The whole damn city was filled with attractive people and he’d worked with a fair few of them. Still, he was momentarily struck silent when he met his new bodyguard.  He couldn’t have just had a bald, nacho-looking guy? "Dean, this is Castiel Krushnic,” Bobby said, shooting a rare smile at the walking wet dream currently standing in Dean’s house. Seeing Bobby smile was more of a rarity than seeing him without his trademark baseball cap and it threw Dean for a loop. Seriously, how the fuck did /Bobby/ know this guy? “Krushnic, this is Dean Winchester." "Nice to meet you," Krushnic said in an accent that was a blend of both Russian and American. Jesus fuck, his voice sounded like he gargled with bourbon each morning and smoked a pack a day. It was the kind of voice you'd hear narrating those steamy fantasy romance novels that Charlie claimed she read for the plot and the plot alone. Again, well shit.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Thursday March 2]

#Destiel Fic #Destiel Art #Destiel Fanworks #DeanCas Fic #DeanCas Art #DeanCas Fanworks #Pinefest Previews #2023 Dean/Cas Pinefest #Author: FollowingButterflies/achillestiel #Artist: comfycowboy #Enemies to Friends to Lovers #Mutual Pining #Bodyguard AU

[seonghwaddict]

hi I'm an aspiring fanfic writer....have a few (read: a lot of) drafts and ideas, but I have zero ideas how to start a blog here. Can you please give me some writing tips and some how to promote your blog here tips because I'm afraid no-one is going to actually read my fics :(

hi :3 of course i'll give some tips, but please keep in mind that i am by no means a professional + most of these are based on my opinions/observations!! if you have any more questions, please don't be afraid to reach out

writing

one. be original! the most interesting thing about writing, in my opinion, is brainstorming and coming up with original plots. of course, it is okay to be inspired by an author, but it feels more rewarding. two. try to write a bit every day! it's easy to get burned out or get writer's block, personally i think the best way to get around this is by writing a little every day. it doesn't have to be anything that you see yourself publishing, little paragraphs or scenarios should be enough. additionally: set yourself some writing goals to keep it consistent and keep yourself motivated. three. write what you want to read! this is kind of related to the first point, but here i'd like to emphasise just that: write what you want to read. if you thought of an idea, whether it's a plot or an au or anything, and you try to look it up but can't find it, it may be fun to bring that idea of yours to life to share with others!

promoting

one. tags! always make sure to tag your fics relevantly to reach the target audience. for example, "#(group/member) fluff" "#(group/member) fanfic" two. timing! to keep engagement consistent, make sure to post at least once or twice a week. additionally, try to figure out at what times you get the most notes and schedule yourself to post at those times. three. fic layout! the layout and overall look of the fic is also important. having a messy or boring layout will not catch the reader's eye. if you look at other authors, you'll notice that the structure is commonly: 1. title + person // 2. some type of header (usually mood boards) // 3. summary/synopsis // 4. specific of the fic (e.g. genre, trope, warnings, word count) // 5. at least the first paragraph of the fic // 6. a cut. this is also my personal go-to for formatting and i usually stick to three images side by side for the header. the summary and starting paragraph are probably the most important part of getting people to read your fic, make sure it's intriguing and gives enough information without telling the whole story

#writing help #ꔫ — › LILO'S TIPS

[type1diabetesinfandom]

This blog's almost at 200 followers (omg what. When.) So. Is there any sort of little celebration thing you guys (gn) are interested in?

Ideally not something *too* involved because i'm chronically fatigued as is and my depression hit bad yesterday, but i never, ever imagined this community growing like this?

I mean

Diabetes in fandom, you want to talk about niche interests?

But i've reblogged over 1k posts. Got nearly 200 followers. There's 40 people in the discord. Ao3 has over 800 fics in the diabetes tag.

I'm definitely not responsible for the ao3 numbers jumping up, but when i started this thing 2 (3?) years ago, there was, i think, 300 fics? And many of them were, ah, mistagged.

Now look at us!

Im just. I'm really sick rn and I'm shook to see these numbers. I'm so happy about this.

And it isn't just fandom either! Purple Hearts was the #1 Netflix hit for over a month straight, in over 10 countries. Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood and What Happens After Midnight by K L Walther were both nominations for the 2023 Goodreads Books of the Year award, and Love, Theoretically won!!! (In the romance category, i think)

That's three mainstream, popular stories with diabetic main characters! Not side characters. Main characters!

To all the people who alluded or told me outright that diabetic stories weren't interesting or marketable unless the diabetes WAS the story can go dig a hole. To the close-minded clouts who told me no one wants to read about diabetes, and accurate representation only detracts from good storytelling didn't ya know? To the tradpub author and editor who told the room that #ownvoices was in rn and aspiring authors should use that if they could when pitching or querying and then two minutes later told me, in front of the entire workshop, that diabetes wasn't important to the story if it didn't affect the plot and i shouldn't include it in my pitch.

I told you were wrong.

Look at me now.

Got derailed there. Ok.

Please send in suggestions if there's anything you'd like to see for a follower celebration!

Potential options off the tip of my head are:

a q&a session (about anything vaguely related to diabetes or fandom)

a review of the rep in something specific wther book movie tv etc

an actual essay discussing the ableism I've unfortunately and frequently come across in the writing world (both fic and original) instead of just that one ranting paragraph

a short fic (1-3k is my usual short fic range so i could probably offer like 3-5 requests over the next month or two? If people are interested i can list some fandoms i'll write in) diabetes ralated, obv

fan art (i... have never posted my art online??? But i do art. Sometimes.) Also diabetes related

And please remember we have a discord! We're small but friendly and there's been some really good discussions on diabetic experiences, and ofc geeking out over shared fandoms. Come join! The link is listed in my pinned post i think

#type 1 diabetes in fandom #t1d #type 1 diabetes #actuallyt1d #follower celebration #i rambled this all out and did not proofread it. good luck finding out if im comprehensible or not!

[thatsbelievable]

#Three More Tips For Aspiring Authors #writer #writers #author #authors #writing #literature #books #poems #poetry #rhino #mummy #life hacks #writing hacks

[firstkanaphans]

hii! i'm a big fan of your fanfics, and as an aspiring writer myself, sometimes I feel sad 'cause I know and feel like I won't ever be as good as you are ☹️ I know I shouldn't compare myself, and I'm trying to get better at it, so I would genuinely like to ask, are there any tips you'd give to authors out there trying to improve? either their writing skills, plot ideas, planning and stuff. thank you, either way, love you! can't wait for your next work ❣️

So, the first thing I want to say is that I have been writing for a long time. I published my first fanfic when I was 12 years old and I’m 31 now, so I’ve been actively writing for the past 19 years (!!!) with almost no break. The way someone explained it to me once was to look at your years writing like levels in a video game. I’m currently at level 19. If you’ve been writing for ten years, you’re at level 10 and it’s certainly not fair to compare yourself to me because the only thing that’s truly going to make you a better writer is to write.

I’m assuming since you called yourself an “aspiring writer” that your eventual goal is publication, so I’ll gear my recommendations towards that. Fanfiction is a completely different animal, but a lot of these tips are applicable to both. The biggest difference is that there’s a lot more freedom in fanfiction. You can write what you want without worrying about three-act structures and you don’t have to invest any work in making people care about the characters because they already do. It is worth noting, however, that if you write, you’re already a writer. 

First, I highly recommend that you read “Save the Cat” by Blake Snyder. It changed my life and I’m not even kidding. It’s an absolutely fantastic book on writing and although it’s geared towards screenwriting instead of novels, everything is still applicable. (There’s actually a newer version called Save the Cat Writes a Novel, but I’ve never actually read that one so I don’t know if it’s as good.) He goes over how to plot a story and also how to write likable characters, which is surprisingly one of the hardest parts of writing original fiction.

The second biggest tip I can give you is to let yourself write badly. Editing is easier than writing. The most important thing is to get words down on the page. You would not believe how bad my first drafts are—and that’s not just me being coy. Honestly, the next time I sit down to write a fanfic, I might save my first draft for anyone who’s interested to read because my first drafts are always bad. Like legitimately. There’s a lot of freedom in letting yourself fail and your writing will turn out better for it.

I would also recommend getting a professional critique if you are able to because you’re never truly going to know what it is you need to improve upon unless someone tells you. Signing up for a writing retreat is a great way to do this or you can look for online critiquing services. I’ve gotten several chapter critiques from Scribbler in the past and I found them very helpful.

But truly, the most important thing is to just have fun. I heard Lin-Manuel Miranda talking about writing Hamilton once and he said that what he constantly kept asking himself was, “If no one else ever sees this, will writing it still have been worth it?” And for him, it was. That’s the kind of energy I try to write with. I write what I want when I want and if I find myself struggling to write a scene because it’s boring, I do something to make it not boring instead. Change things up! Have fun! Because otherwise, what’s the point?

About six years ago, a friend of mine said virtually the same thing you did in this ask: “I’ll never be as good as you.” She had been writing for less than a year at the time. We lost touch when I left fandom to pursue original fiction, but when I came back last year, I looked her up again. She has a Tumblr ficlet pinned at the top of her page with 10K+ notes. I could never.

So don’t count yourself out yet. Just keep writing.

#asks #writing advice

[nanowrimo]

5 Ways Journaling Can Help You Write Your Novel

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Day One, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an award-winning journaling app. Today, author and journaling expert Kristen Webb Wright shares a few tips on how journaling can help your creative writing:

Aspiring novelists often find themselves on a challenging journey to bring their stories to life. The blank page can be intimidating, and writer's block can strike at any moment. However, there's a powerful tool that can help you overcome these hurdles and fuel your novel-writing dreams: journaling. 

Journaling is more than just recording daily events or jotting down your thoughts—it's a practice that can supercharge your creative process and sharpen your storytelling skills. In fact, numerous famous writers kept journals or diaries throughout their lives, using their personal chronicles to cultivate their literary masterpieces

 Here are five ways journaling can help you write your novel:

1. Draw Inspiration from Everyday Life

Novel writing often draws inspiration from the events and experiences of everyday life. Use your journal to document intriguing encounters, interesting conversations, or even mundane moments that can be woven into your story. Everyday life is a treasure trove of material for creating relatable and authentic narratives. Your journal can serve as a repository of these real-life gems.

2. A Private Space to Explore Ideas

Journaling offers a unique and private sanctuary where you can explore your wildest ideas without judgment or fear of criticism. It's a space where you can experiment with unconventional plot twists, quirky characters, or daring themes. Since your journal is for your eyes only, you can be completely honest and uninhibited in your exploration, allowing your creativity to soar to new heights.

3. Overcome Writer’s Block

Writer's block is a formidable adversary for novelists, but journaling can be your secret weapon to defeat it. When you're stuck, turn to your journal and simply write. Pour out your frustrations, write about your day, or describe your surroundings. The act of writing, even if it's unrelated to your novel, can kickstart your creativity and get the words flowing. Journaling serves as a safe space where you can experiment, break through creative barriers, and rediscover your writing flow.

4. Develop and Organize Plots and Character Details 

A well-organized plot is crucial for a successful novel. Journaling can help you outline and structure your story effectively. Use your journal to jot down plot ideas, timelines, and chapter summaries. Create mind maps or visual diagrams to visualize your story's progression. The act of putting your novel's elements on paper will help you maintain a clear and organized narrative as you write.

5. Track Progress and Set Goals

Writing a novel is a significant undertaking, and it's easy to feel overwhelmed. Journaling provides a space for tracking your progress and setting achievable goals. Record your daily or weekly word counts, celebrate milestones, and reflect on your writing journey. You can even use your journal to set writing goals and deadlines. It's a motivational tool that keeps you accountable and focused on completing your novel.

Journaling is a versatile and invaluable tool for aspiring novelists. So, why not pick up your journal and start harnessing its power to write the novel you've always dreamed of? Every word you write in your journal is a step closer to bringing your story to life.

Start your journaling journey today, and watch your novel flourish like never before. Happy writing!

All NaNoWriMo participants get 25% off a Day One Premium subscription throughout November. Use the discount code NANOWRIMO at https://dayone.me/subscribe to claim it. Offer expires November 30, 2023.

Kristen Webb Wright is the author of three books on journaling. With a passion for writing and self-reflection, Kristen uses her experience with journaling to help others discover the benefits of documenting their thoughts, feelings, and experiences. In her role at Day One Journal, she helps to promote the power of journaling so people from all walks of life can experience the transformative power of journaling.

#nanowrimo #writing #journaling #writing advice #writing tools #by nano sponsor #day one #kristen webb wright

[writingquestionsanswered]

Do you have any advice for someone starting a blog on blogger for (young/teenage or aspiring) writers by a teenage aspiring writers for me to share things I've learnt over the years of trial and failure.

Tips for Young Writer Blogging for Young Writers

First and foremost: there's no such thing as an "aspiring writer." People say it a lot, but it has no meaning. You can be an aspiring author or an aspiring professional writer, but if you write, you're a writer. Period. Being a writer doesn't require publication or being paid for your writing. Now, some tips! ♥

1 - First and Foremost, Don’t Overthink It.

I’m starting here, because this is a subject that can be very overwhelming, but it doesn’t have to be. Some writers/authors seem to have limitless time to dedicate to social media, but most of us don’t, and that’s okay. It’s better to prioritize your writing, but there are things you can do to work social media into your routine. Also, don’t feel like everything you post has to be related to writing, your writing life, or some super interesting event or adventure. Content is content. It can be just about anything.

2 - Find a Unique Gimmick.

“Gimmick” can be kind of an ugly word, but say what you want about gimmicks–they work! You have a built-in gimmick by being a young writer who's writing about their own trials, failures, and successes. However, coming up with a unique theme, choosing a matching title and aesthetic, and having at least some consistent content that is unique to your blog can all help to get your blog noticed.

3 - Find Your Community.

It helps to think about who your target audience is. We know they're young writers, but what else do they like? What do they write about? What do they like to read? Where do they hang out online? Knowing these details can help you find your community and target your content. Follow similar bloggers and look at the followers of similar bloggers to see who you can follow (who might follow you back). Interaction is important to building and maintaining followers. You don't have to interact with everyone, but making sure you engage with at least some of your followers will keep them coming back.

4 - Be Somewhat Consistent.

You may want to vary your content to three or four different types, for example: blog posts, WIP snippets, reblogs, and advice posts. Then, make sure you stick to those three or four types of content pretty consistently. It's not that you can never vary, but sticking with that content most of the time lets your blog readers know what to expect when they seek out your blog. You should also make sure you post at a fairly consistent rate and time, like every Monday afternoon and every Friday morning. Again, the consistency helps the reader know what to expect.

Content Ideas:

writing advice/tips

writing-related/motivational/book quotes

pictures that relate to what you write/want to write

pictures that relate to reading/writing

reblogs from other writers/readers

writing/reading related memes

aesthetics of your favorite books or your WIPs

personal writing-related anecdotes

writing tip/advice posts (share what you know!)

photos of your writing space/reading area

pictures of handwritten quotes or tips that you want to share

photos of coffee, tea, stationery, books, pets, nature

your monthly goals/end of month review

Book, movie, tv show, video game reviews

Arts, Crafts, DIY, Cooking, Adventures, and Other Hobbies

5 - Know Your Hashtags.

Hashtags are super important in getting your content into other people’s feeds. Look at the hashtags other people are using for similar posts, start making a list and go explore them. See which ones get the most traction. You can also use Google to find lists of suggested hashtags.

And most of all...

Be Patient…

One of the hardest things about writing blogs is feeling like you’re shouting into a wind tunnel. It can be really, really hard to build up followers, and even once you have them, it can sometimes feel like no one cares. Interaction on social media tends to be as low as 5% to 10% of your total number of followers, so if you have 30 followers, you may get as few as one or two likes and reblogs per post. Don’t let that discourage you. It doesn’t mean only 1 or 2 people care. It just means only 1 or 2 people are bothering to engage. A lot of people browse their feeds and never hit the like or reblog button, but they still see your post and probably enjoyed it. Stick with it. It may take months before you start to build up a more solid following and gain more interaction, but if you stick with it and are consistent with your posts and interaction with others’ posts, you’ll get there.

Be sure to let me know once it's up and you have a few post up. I will be happy to share it! ♥

Best wishes on this endeavor!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: John McWhorter

Published: Dec 21, 2023

Harvard’s president, Claudine Gay, should resign.

I don’t love thinking so and hoped we would not reach this tipping point in the controversy over whether she should be retained in her position. But a tipping point it is.

Harvard has a clear policy on plagiarism that threatens undergraduates with punishment up to the university’s equivalent of expulsion for just a single instance of it. That policy may not apply to the university’s president, but the recent, growing revelations about past instances of plagiarism by Dr. Gay make it untenable for her to remain in office.

As a matter of scholarly ethics, academic honor and, perhaps most of all, leadership that sets an example for students, Dr. Gay would be denigrating the values of “veritas” that she and Harvard aspire to uphold. Staying on would not only be a terrible sign of hollowed-out leadership, but also risks conveying the impression of a double standard at a progressive institution for a Black woman, which serves no one well, least of all Dr. Gay.

It has always been inconvenient that Harvard’s first Black president has only published 11 academic articles in her career and not one book (other than one with three co-editors). Some of her predecessors, like Lawrence Bacow, Drew Gilpin Faust and Lawrence Summers, have had vastly more voluminous academic records. The discrepancy gives the appearance that Dr. Gay was not chosen because of her academic or scholarly qualifications, which Harvard is thought to prize, but rather because of her race.

There is an argument that a university president may not need to have been an awesomely productive scholar, and that Dr. Gay perhaps brought other and more useful qualifications to the job. (She held the high-ranking post of dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences at Harvard before the presidency, and so may have administrative gifts, but that job is not a steppingstone to the modern Harvard presidency.) But Harvard, traditionally, has exemplified the best of the best, and its presidents have been often regarded as among the top in their given fields — prize winners, leading scholars, the total package.

As such, the academic writings and publications of a Harvard president and other top university presidents matter, including the integrity of that work. It might seem counterintuitive that university presidents typically begin their careers writing dozens of academic papers and multiple academic books. One might see their current duties — as administrators, fund-raisers, troubleshooters, meeting-havers — as only diagonally connected to the publish-or-perish realm of being a college professor.

This is especially because the world of academic papers and books is a weird and often gestural thing. Beyond the work of the occasional star, this academic material is often read only by a few reviewers (if even them) and university library shelves groan under the weight of countless academic books engaged by essentially no one. As to one of my own academic books — my favorite one, in fact — I am aware of a single person who has actually read it. And that’s about normal in this business.

But the allegations of plagiarism leveled at Dr. Gay come on top of her thin dossier and present a different kind of challenge.

There are indeed degrees of plagiarism. The allegations against Dr. Gay do not entail promoting actual substantial ideas as her own, but rather lifting phrases for sections of dutiful literature review and explicating basic premises without using quotation marks, or changing the wording only slightly, and, at times, not even citing the relevant authors shortly before or after these sections. This qualifies less as stealing argumentation than as messy. Much has been made of the fact that even her acknowledgments section in her dissertation has phraseology transparently cribbed from those of others. Sloppy, again — but still, this is not about her actual ideas.

But there are two problems here. One is Harvard’s plagiarism policy for students, its veritas image and other standards of integrity and conduct. Second is the sheer amount of the plagiarism in her case, even if in itself it is something less than stealing ideas. If the issue were a couple of hastily quoted phrases in one article, it would be one thing. But investigations have shown that this problem runs through about half of Dr. Gay’s articles, as well as her dissertation. We must ask how a university president can expect to hold her head high, carry authority and inspire respect as a leader on a campus where students suffer grave consequences for doing even a fraction of what Dr. Gay has done.

That Dr. Gay is Black gives this an especially bad look. If she stays in her job, the optics will be that a middling publication record and chronically lackadaisical attention to crediting sources is somehow OK for a university president if she is Black. This implication will be based on a fact sad but impossible to ignore: that it is difficult to identify a white university president with a similar background. Are we to let pass a tacit idea that for Black scholars and administrators, the symbolism of our Blackness, our “diverseness,” is what matters most about us? I am unclear where the Black pride (or antiracism) is in this.

After the congressional hearing this month where Dr. Gay made comments about genocide and antisemitism that she later apologized for, and now in the aftermath of the plagiarism allegations, some of her supporters and others have argued that the university should not dismiss Dr. Gay, because doing so would be to give in to a “mob.” However, one person’s mob is another person’s gradually emerging consensus among reasonable people.

I, for one, wield no pitchfork on this. I did not call for Dr. Gay’s dismissal in the wake of her performance at the antisemitism hearings in Washington, and on social media I advised at first to ease up our judgment about the initial plagiarism accusations. But in the wake of reports of additional acts of plagiarism and Harvard’s saying that she will make further corrections to past writing, the weight of the charges has taken me from “wait and see” to “that’s it.”

If it is mobbish to call on Black figures of influence to be held to the standards that others are held to, then we have arrived at a rather mysterious version of antiracism, and just in time for the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday in less than a month. I would even wish Harvard well in searching for another Black woman to serve as president if that is an imperative. But at this point that Black woman cannot, with any grace, be Claudine Gay.

And if Harvard declines to dismiss her out of fear of being accused of racism — a reasonable although hardly watertight surmise — Dr. Gay should do the right thing on her own. For Harvard, her own dignity and our national commitment to assessing Black people (and all people) according to the content of their character, she should step down.

#John McWhorter #Claudine Gay #diversity hire #plagiarism #academic corruption #academic fraud #Harvard #Harvard University #diversity equity and inclusion #diversity #equity #inclusion #DEI bureaucracy #DIE bureaucracy #Claudine Gay scandal #bigotry of low expectations #low standards #religion is a mental illness

[mha-grievances]

Pt. 3 of more posts to check out:

Hori’s Wonky Stat Distributions:

Reformation Vs Redemption:

How Kyouka’s Stronger than Hori Shows Her to Be:

Yui Kodai Headcanons:

Arc Rankings:

Character Flaws vs Writing Flaws: