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#WHAT A GREAT EPISODE. I HOPE THE URGE TO DRAW MORE STRIKES ME LIKE THIS AGAIN. WEEEE!!
sluckythewizard · 21 days
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YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!
#cw gore#cw blood#jrwi fanart#jrwi suckening spoilers#jrwi suckening#BEEN VEHEMENTLY SCRIBBLING THIS THING ALL DAY#IM SO FUCKING IN LVOE W THE NEW EPISODE#VIV N VEX ARE LITERALLY EVERYTHING I COULDVE EVER WANTED. I LOVE BLOOD AND MEAT AND BLOOD AND MEAT#THE SCRIBBLE IS KINDA ROUGH SO DONT LOOK AT IT TOO HARD BUT EHEHEHEEEE THE FACE THAT I CREATED UNNERVES ME#AND IM VERY HAPPY ABOUT THAT. I LOVE CREATING SOMETHING AND HAVING IT EVEN SLIGHTLY PHASE ME#I LOVED ALL THE TOOTH RIPPING NOISES IN THIS EPISODE. AHVE U EVER HAD A TOOTH REMOVED?#SHE USED A BLUNT METAL TOOL TO PUNCH IT OUT. IT REMINDED ME OF THE SPLINTERING OF A TREE. THE WAY IT TORE.#SUCH A SPECIFIC SORT OF CRUNCHING AND SPLINTERING AS A MOLAR WAS RRRRIPPPEEDD FROM THE SOCKET. OHH I LOVE IT.#GOING IN FOR A ROOT CANAL NEXT WEEK AND IM VERY EXCITED. ALL THE DENTISTS LOVE ME N ARE SO NICE TO ME#WHAT A GREAT EPISODE. I HOPE THE URGE TO DRAW MORE STRIKES ME LIKE THIS AGAIN. WEEEE!!#I WANNA ANIMATE EMIZEL GETTIN HIS EYE RRIPPED OUT. BUT. IM ALREADY COOKING 3 OTHER VIV N VEX ANIMATIONS#THERES NO WAY THEY WILL ALL BE FINISHED HELP!! HELP MEE!!!! I HAVE TO MANY IDEAS AND NOT ENOUGH HANDS. DO U GUYS REMEMBER HTF?#OR HAPPY TREE FRIENDS. THE CUTE ANIMAL SHOW W ALL THE BLOOD AND GORE AND TERRIBLE TERRIBLE THINGS HAPPENING TO THE CUTE ANIMALS#in elementary school i would show the 'eyes cold lemonade' to other kids and tell em thats how they make pink lemonade.#hope that helps you undertsand. i wish i could make a lil cartoon w just viv n vex doing what they do best#LOST MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT. IM GOING BACK TO MY LAB. DONT EXPECT TO HEAR FROM ME IN A MILLION YEARS
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whenimaunicorn · 4 years
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The Heart of Admiration - Part 2
Charles Vane x Reader, slow burn adventure/romance, written in a series of short scenes.
Part One Here
This episode’s prompt: “ “I thought they’d killed you. I lost my temper.”
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The sea spray leaves the taste of salt on your lips as the ship crashes through another unexpected wave. It feels good to be sailing again, even with a crew you were all but press-ganged to join, and even with the weather now threatening to turn dangerous.
You had pled for mercy for Captain Fisher’s life, and those of his men. They had been your crew for going on five years, and though the plan to steal the cargo from Vane’s ship had been a foolish one, you couldn’t just let them die for it. That moment in which you watched Captain Vane’s eyes smolder while he considered your plea had been the longest one of your life. “So long as they leave Nassau,” he had finally said. “They leave, and you stay.”
You watch your new captain now, down on the deck below, alternately barking orders at the men and peering up at the darkening clouds moving in from the southeast. His heavy brow and bold cheekbones give his face a rugged sort of handsomeness, like he was carved by gods more primal than the Christian one, out of tougher stuff than other men. No one in Nassau knew where Vane had come from, only that he rose through the ranks of Blackbeard’s crew and barreled through the island like a storm.
He catches you looking at him, and responds only by calmly staring back. He looks at you too much. He has not yet been crude, but you fear you know what it means regardless.
It’s hard for a woman to survive as a pirate without becoming somebody’s woman. It would be safer that way, too. Easier. Anne Bonny may be an absolute hellcat, but surely the place she’s carved out on this crew stays comfortable because everyone knows she’s the quartermaster’s woman. It would be easier to have that kind of protection yourself, too, but the idea rankles you. You joined the pirating life because you wanted independence. You made it on the last crew because of your quick wit, and because your skills with celestial navigation were unique and indispensable. Although it helped that the captain was married to your sister and treated you like kin.
You had assumed those skills were the reason Vane wanted you for his own crew, as well. Very few people in this life are educated enough to read the charts and almanacs, to decipher the celestial bodies and figure a precise location in the middle of the ocean. But he looks at you too much. This may be an uglier trap than you had thought.
A lock of hair that escaped your braid flies across your face. The prevailing winds are changing. Perhaps the only thing this particular long look signifies is Vane’s awareness that this storm means the course you’ve been marking out for him will have to be corrected. The course that, if the weather doesn’t blow you too far off from, will take you to meet the intended course of a merchant vessel, whose schedule just happened to fall into Vane’s hands, much farther out from land than most pirating crews would ever hope to be able to find.
You’re already up here to take the noon measurements, but the sun is not quite at its zenith. Once you have the number, a flurry of calculations will follow, and you’ll give Vane your course corrections based on precisely where on the open ocean this ship is located right now, and where the other ship is most likely to be. But you’re already feeling extra tension in your chest looking at those thick clouds; if they cover the sun before you’re certain it has reached its apex, your faulty measurements could throw your course off by miles. And if that storm catches the Ranger, all you can do is wait for the skies to clear to figure where the hell it has blown you. Your chest tightens further when you see the captain mounting the steps to come up to your deck.
Even though you had intended to wait a little longer to take the next measurement, you find yourself lifting the backstaff toward the horizon again while you listen to Vane’s boots approaching you from behind. It’s careful work, to line up the sun’s shadow as the deck rolls in the waves. And it’s only getting more difficult as the nearby storm makes the sea choppier.
“Nineteen point three, and…” You mutter the numbers under your breath as you get them, not wanting to forget the figures before you have a chance to write them down. “Eighty-two point four.”
“Is that what you were expecting?” Vane is standing so unexpectedly close behind you that you jump at the sound of his rumbling voice.
You step away from him, quite deliberately, as you answer his question. “I’m not certain that’s the precise number we’re looking for, but yes, I believe we are still on-course.”
Vane closes a little of the space you had drawn between your bodies. But not enough to be worthy of further correction. “You look worried.”
The last thing a woman trying to hold her own on a ship should do, is admit vulnerability. You roll your eyes at him. “Fuck off. This is not my first storm at sea.”
A smile cracks the captain’s stony face at your response. “Fair enough.” He looks to the south. “We should be able to skirt the edge of that one without much difficulty.” His heavy gaze falls back on you, a sudden gust of wind pulling at his long, twisted locks. “But it will take us off the course we’ve been plotting.”
Usually you have no trouble looking a man in the eye; it’s something particular to Vane that has you dropping your head. You draw your little notebook from its pocket to excuse the movement. “Now who’s the one that’s worried? It’s no problem. I can correct for that just as soon as we get another sighting after it’s passed.” You flip to an open page, and lift your pencil. 19.3, you write, and then… “Fuck me, what was that last number?” Normally you have a good memory. The captain is just being too damn distracting.
You hear Vane chuckle. You refuse to look up. “If I tell you, do I get to?”
It takes you a half a second to run back through the precise words you just said, and catch his meaning. Your voice turns acid. “If you are not going to be helpful, then get out of my way. I am attempting to do the very work you pressed me into service on this ship in order to perform.”
Vane rocks back on his heels. “Is that what I did.”
Your exhale is a sharp burst of irritation, on many, many levels. “You can’t say you gave me much of a choice, about joining this crew.”
You risk a glance directly at Vane’s face again. He looks pensive, behind the general air of aggressiveness that usually suffuses his features. “You’ll be happier here,” he growls out after completing his thought.
You arch an eyebrow at him, just about as high as it will go.
“You were wasted on the Starling.”
 ~*~
 Every pirating crew hopes to avoid violence. They ready themselves for it, bristling with threat and menace as they wait for the ships to close tight enough for boarding, but the most preferable option is negotiation, always, with a prompt surrender on the part of their quarry before any blood is spilt.
That ideal outcome is not playing out today. This merchant vessel’s crew must have been largely made up of former naval soldiers, given the competence with which they are resisting Vane’s vanguard, and the discipline you are observing in their ranks from atop the Ranger’s quarter deck.
“Get belowdecks,” Jack Rakham, standing by your side and watching the battle just as closely, suddenly urges you.
“What? Why?” you bristle on reflex.
Jack interrupts himself to bark orders across the locked sides of the ships: “Watch those riflemen! Aft!” Three men peel off the main fighting to interrupt the knot of sailors that Jack had spied franticly reloading near the back of the other vessel.
You raise your chin as one of Vane’s crewmen severs a man’s arm at the elbow with a deft strike of his axe. “I assure you, I am not squeamish.” You are accustomed to observing the fighting from one of the higher decks with your old crew. On just about every run, unless… Jack’s fingers close tightly around your elbow. With a little shove, he directs your gaze.
A knot of enraged seamen are pushing through the Ranger’s men, dangerously close to one of the gangplanks connecting the ships. “If they get across, you’re a target,” Jack says sternly. “Seeing as you are not disguising your sex. Hide yourself. Now.”
You’d been held hostage once before. It was not a pleasant experience, for you or for your crew. You forgive Jack for shoving you as you start to make your way down.
The fear starts to set in as you scramble toward the ladder that leads to the lower deck; enemy boots stomp onto the Ranger just before your head disappears down the hatch. You hope that Jack, or some of the other men still aboard, notice in time to resist them, but that officer’s eyes landed on you with heavy interest as you scurried away. It seems likely they are indeed intent on a hostage.
The long knife you keep belted to your waist is in your hand as you scurry through the belly of the Ranger. You whip your head and turn back and forth in the muted light belowdecks, changing your course more than once in a way that you are dimly aware signifies panic. This is not your ship. This is not your home. You don’t know where to hide in this unfamiliar place.
Booted feet are pounding somewhere behind you. No way to know if they are friend or foe. And would your new crewmen even care enough to defend you? You duck into the doorway ahead of you and then put your back to the wall beside it, clutching your knife to your chest and readying to ambush anyone that comes through after you.
Your eyes land on a bed, bolted into the bulkhead. You’ve somehow chosen the captain’s cabin in which to hide. Not that it means much more than that you ran straight to the back of the ship. You’re much more concerned with getting your breathing under control, until your great gasps are not making quite so much noise, so you can listen to the sounds of approaching feet.
A figure steps through the door, and your knife flashes out with barely any choice on your part. You bury it almost to the hilt in his chest. You may not be one to ever storm another ship in the vanguard, but you’ve been training to defend yourself for years. You wrench it out of him and blood flies as the startled man stares down at you, not even realizing he’s already dead.
His last earthly act is to attempt to grab you about the arms, which unfortunately means that when his body sags into dead weight, he’s falling directly into you. You had got the knife free to stab again, but that’s not going to help you against his two hundred pounds of inertia. You have to twist with him in a macabre dance, his life’s blood still spurting, in order to not be knocked directly to the floor.
Which, unfortunately, puts your back to his fellows, rushing into the room after him. You hear a couple of enraged voices screaming at you and then a sharp crack, which instantly creates a thundershock of pain reverberating up from the back of your skull before everything goes dark.
 You wake to shouting, then screams. Ugly, ragged, tortured ones, of men too far gone in pain to retain either sense or hope. You feel your body, laying flat on the deck, and a splitting headache that rouses you quickly to consciousness. The sun is harsh against your eyes. Somehow you’ve gotten abovedeck again.
You lift your head; you don’t quite feel ready to move anything else. Your eyes focus dully on a dead man’s face in front of you, his cheek wet in a pool of blood that’s slowly expanding. You don’t know him.
Somewhere past your feet, you hear a voice call “Mercy.” The only response is a bestial snarl and then the wet sound of something slamming over and over again into meat.
You know that snarl. There’s only one voice in the West Indies pitched like that, rasping over blown-out vocal chords. You push up on your hands and look over at the men fighting less than two paces away from you.
The fight is over. Vane hacks once more with his cutlass and the head of the man who was just begging for his life drops to the deck and rolls.
It looks like most of the crew is back on the Ranger. How long had you been knocked out? “Captain…” comes the voice of Jack Rakham, and he’s pointing at you.
Vane’s face is feral as he turns, his long hair matted up with other men’s blood, sweat glistening on his exposed chest. His eyes widen, and your name falls from his lips. He takes a long step toward you, and drops to his knees at your side.
“Are you wounded?” His voice is low, and you’re surprised at the concern you see in his steady gaze.
You push with your hands so you can sit up on one hip, then reach up to the back of your head. “Quite a lump here,” you report, wincing.
Vane reaches to your chest, pinching up a bit of the fabric of your shirt. The whole front of it is soaked red with blood.
“That’s not mine.”
Vane lifts one scarred brow.
“You’ll find the first of the men that came after me belowdecks, with a hole in his chest.”
Your captain nods, looking pleased.
You notice that several sprawling corpses surround you on the deck, each one a red ruin, hacked more brutally than would have been needed to kill them. The would-be hostage takers? You look back at Vane for answers.
“When I saw them dragging you up here, covered in blood, I thought they’d killed you.” Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “I lost my temper.”
Your chest fills with some unexpected emotion that feels rather too complex for you to even attempt to sort out. “You can’t be losing the asset you just went to such lengths to attain for your crew,” you say wryly.
Captain Vane fixes you with eyes as blue and deep as the sea. “No one else could have guided us this far out to meet the prize,” he acknowledges. “But I have a feeling I’ve only barely begun to discover your worth.”
Part 3 Here
Notes: if you liked this, thank @acebreathesfire too, she’s my source on navigation facts and basically has been co-creating this OC with me. If not for her encouragement none of this fic would have happened!!!
Taglist is open: @acebreathesfire @kind-wolf @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen you are all pressganged into this ship but anyone else is free to request to be put on the list!! Also I am creating this series entirely out of prompt fill drabbles, so if you come across any dialogue prompts you think would inspire good chapters, please pass them my way!!
Link to More Vane Action
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mikewytrykus · 4 years
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Carl Reiner: Write What You Know
When I was a student at Columbia College Chicago, I had a Studies in Television class about The Dick Van Dyke Show. What follows is the essay I wrote for my final paper about its creator, the recently passed comedy legend Carl Reiner. It’s about 1,700 words. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
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I have been a fan of the work of Carl Reiner for a long time – longer than I had, until recently, realized. I had never noticed before that he was the director of such movies as Oh God!, as well as the early films of Steve Martin (not all of which I have seen, but I have enjoyed those that I did see). And even before I knew who Carl Reiner was, I was a fan of the work of his son Rob Reiner. I watched All in the Family long before I had ever seen an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. And The Princess Bride, a classic of the fantasy-adventure genre, remains one of my all-time favorite films. Later on, when I began watching The Dick Van Dyke Show, I did not immediately realize that the actor playing Alan Brady was in fact the creative genius behind the entire series. I did not notice that this one man scripted the bulk of the episodes, including many of its best. I had not yet come to fully appreciate the talent and brilliance of Carl Reiner. That is something I have only achieved through this course. I have a new respect and admiration for the man, truly one of the great comedians of our time. The series he created has been a favorite of mine since I discovered it through reruns on Nick-at-Nite and will remain one of my favorites for as long as I live. I will examine Carl Reiner’s various roles throughout the production of The Dick Van Dyke Show and show that this actor turned writer-producer was truly a force to be reckoned with in the field of comedy.
When I began watching The Dick Van Dyke Show, I slowly became more familiar with the work of the cast and crew of the series. Once I had learned who Carl Reiner was – the creator of the series as well as its chief writer and producer – I discovered his early work on Your Show of Shows. I knew, for the most part, who Sid Caesar was. I was probably most familiar with him from the classic comedy film It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World – which also featured Reiner in a small role as an airport control tower operator. I knew of Imogene Coca and Howie Morris – the latter more from his cartoon voice over work. I had never seen the show, but I knew it was a landmark television series, essentially the Saturday Night Live of its day. I’ve since learned that it was Reiner’s experiences on this series and with the people that have worked on it that formed the basis for The Dick Van Dyke Show. It was through Your Show of Shows that Reiner began a long lasting friendship and professional partnership with the great Mel Brooks, who I should not have been surprised, was the inspiration for the human joke machine that is Buddy Sorrel. Reiner was primarily a performer on the show but eventually became an uncredited contributor in the writers’ room. However, his alter ego on The Dick Van Dyke Show would be the series’ head writer, an embellishment that I’m sure delighted Reiner to no end. 
It is the creation of this series and Reiner’s alter ego Robert Petrie that most impresses me about the man. Trying to break into the arena of television sitcoms, unable to find a vehicle fitting of his talents, Carl Reiner took it upon himself to create his own series – partially at the urging of his wife Estelle. Reiner believed in the old adage “write what you know” and thought about what experiences he could draw upon that others might not. It occurred to him to base his series on his life and career as a performer and writer on Sid Caesar’s television series. It also occurred to him to not only draw upon his professional life, but his personal one as well, and show the two worlds his main character would inhabit: the world of his job as a television writer and his world at home as a husband and father. Reiner then proceeded with the unprecedented endeavor of writing thirteen complete episodes for this series in a single summer. It is this feat of dedication and productivity that most inspires and encourages me. It shows what a creative individual can accomplish when he or she sets his mind on a task, a goal, and commits to it. It remains a grand accomplishment in spite of Reiner’s initial setbacks in getting the series off the ground. Reiner’s series, dubbed Head of the Family, would make it to the pilot stage and, for at least a time, no further. It’s rather ironic that one of the biggest problems with this incarnation of the series is the performance of Reiner himself. One would think that a man would be most qualified to play himself, but apparently this was not true in Reiner’s case. 
We can thank the efforts of executive producer Sheldon Leonard for salvaging Reiner’s fledgling series and setting him onto his true path, as the show’s writer and producer. It is was here that Carl Reiner truly shined. The shear workload that Carl Reiner endured throughout the first two seasons of The Dick Van Dyke Show is striking, one might even say Herculean. As producer, Reiner’s responsibilities included the supervision of casting, staging, scoring and editing of each season’s thirty some episodes, in addition to his duties as writer and story editor. Nearly two-thirds of the episodes aired in the first two seasons were written by Carl Reiner, and there was almost no episode that went completely untouched by his creative hands; many of these episodes were polished or rewritten by him as well. How Reiner was able to endure this staggering workload is nothing short of amazing, almost miraculous. However, it was not something the overworked creator could endure forever. Fortunately for Reiner, and for fans of the show everywhere, help arrived in the third season in the form of screenwriters Bill Persky and Sam Denoff. It is because of these unlikely saviors lessening his burden of responsibility that we were able to enjoy Reiner’s efforts in front of the camera as well as behind during the series’ final two seasons. It is here that Reiner was able to return to his first desire – performing – as the vain, egomaniacal, overbearing television star Alan Brady.
If Rob Petrie was the alter ego of Reiner himself, then Alan Brady represented Sid Caesar, as well as many other vaudevillian stars of early television. When one considers what kind of a man and a boss that Reiner was – he only lost his temper on set once and was a genuinely gracious person to work for – it’s a testament to his acting abilities that he delivered such a believable and hilarious performance. Alan was loud, domineering, arrogant, self-centered, often cruel, but always funny. He was the living embodiment of every big shot television star that was completely full of himself, and added a welcome dynamic to the show. As if beleaguered producer Mel Cooley hadn’t suffered enough thanks to Buddy’s constant insults, he now had his belligerent brother-in-law to contend with. But Mel was not the only target of Alan’s pompous anger. I doubt anyone on the cast avoided being walked all over by Alan, and I would say Rob suffered more than anyone. Everyone was terrified of Alan Brady, and with good reason. He held the collective destiny of our favorite characters in his hand. The threat of being fired loomed constantly overhead and led to some great comedic moments, even when the threat was idle or completely non-existent. Whether it was Rob forced to ghost doctor the lackluster play for Alan’s Broadway debut or the whole staff offering their writing services to a snail, the prospect of unemployment was never funnier. Not even friends and family were safe as Laura, Millie and Jerry were all caught in the wake of hurricane Alan. 
Writer, producer, performer, Carl Reiner was at least a triple threat. Like nearly everyone in the cast of The Dick Van Dyke Show, Reiner was as multitalented and versatile as they come. Always a class act, forever striving for excellence and devoted to bringing to life “one man’s reality”, Reiner worked fervently for over five years to make the series he had created one of the best television shows ever to grace the airwaves. It is for this reason that he and Dick Van Dyke chose to end the show after its fifth season. Like any good showman, Reiner wanted to go out on a high note and leave the crowd wanting more. It may have been the end of his sitcom, but it was hardly the end of his career. 
Carl Reiner would continue to be a driving force in comedy and moved on to become a writer and director of feature films, including the movie based on the novel Enter Laughing that he wrote in the late 1950s that was a precursor to his work on The Dick Van Dyke Show. He kept working in television as well and even reteamed with his former star in the 1970s for The New Dick Van Dyke Show. It was, however, not as long lived or anywhere near as successful as their previous endeavor. Reiner would also continue to work as an actor and, in fact, continues to work to this very day in both television and movies. His role as Saul Bloom in the Ocean’s 11 films was one of the highlights of that series.  He has even reprised his most famous role as Alan Brady on sitcoms like Mad About You, a Dick Van Dyke Show reunion special and even an animated program titled – what else – The Alan Brady Show. 
Carl Reiner has crafted a legacy that I believe will withstand the test of time, and he will be remembered as one of the giants of comedy, a true creative genius. He has certainly inspired me to continue working hard on my own creative endeavors and to commit myself to the things that I am passionate about. If I could achieve even a fraction of his success, I would be a very fortunate man indeed.
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fewfwf · 3 years
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inkinghubris · 4 years
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Ep. 47: Finding Inspiration When it is Lost
Episode 47: Finding Inspiration When it is Lost
In this episode, we continue looking at what issues writer's face and how to solve them. Today we tackle the loss of inspiration. We figure out where it goes, and use various methods to bring it back. You can listen to the episode right here. The transcription is below the player. Feel free to add your comments using the comment section below.    
Episode 47 Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using a combination of speech recognition software and humans, as such, it may contain errors. Please, double-check the audio file before quoting anything from this page.   Introduction 00:00 Inspiration. It is what drives us, as creatives, to write, draw, sing, dance... whatever it is that we do to express ourselves. What happens, though, when we don't have any inspiration? How do we get it back? In today's episode I want to cover inspiration and figure out where it goes, and how to chase it down. Stick around, we have a lot to figure out. 00:35 01:04 Inspiration comes in all shapes and sizes. It is one of those little things that we, as writers, take for granted sometimes. Losing your inspiration is like losing your car keys when you don't have any plans to go anywhere. You don't really know it's lost. Sometimes this happens because you have already started a project and you sit down to write and you trudge through.
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Finding your inspiration can be a tough ask. Don't give up, it's in there, somewhere. 01:31 You know what needs to be done, so there isn't a real need for inspiration to strike. It can feel like a loss of motivation, which I covered last week. However, there are some differences. For example, the loss of motivation makes you feel like doing nothing, where as the loss of inspiration makes you feel like you aren't doing enough, or you aren't doing the right thing.   When Loss of Inspiration is Noticeable 02:05 Where you really notice the lack of inspiration, when it has left you, is when you attempt to start a new project. It doesn't matter how prepared you are, sometimes nothing flows. You can sit down to write, double check your notes and your fingers just hover over the keyboard. You stare at the blinking cursor or the blank page and you grow frustrated. 02:35 To make matters worse, the lack of inspiration can lead to other problems, such as motivation, depression, that feeling of self-doubt. It is a serious problem that for the most part goes unaddressed. That's why I decided to bring it up today. 02:56 What can we do about this inspirational shutout? The simple answer is to "go find it again." Though that can be more difficult than it sounds, especially if you also suffer from the other issues that can come up from the condition. So, I want to cover a few of the various methods that I use to find my inspiration when she decides to play a game of hide and seek from me.   There are Steps to Take
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Take each step as it comes. Find the one for you. 03:29 The first thing I do is step away. This is always my first step for situations like this. I have never found inspiration, motivation, drive or ambition beating my head against the keyboard. So, I remove that from my view and take on another task. I also find it easier to do something mundane and something that requires little brain power. I am attempting to reset my mind, so I will do the dishes and laundry, I'll go for a walk with my headphones in. 04:07 A lot of times, this can be enough. I have noticed that when I give my brain the break from the computer, it always wants to find its way back. So while I am scrubbing that roast grease off of the baking pan, my mind is trying to write that first chapter, or further develop that character. If I have come up with something, I will dry my hands and go back to the computer to see what I can do. Sometimes, that is enough. I can jot down those few things I thought about and off I go.   Still have a Loss of Inspiration? Try Another Option 04:40 More often than not, though, that fickle mistress of inspiration is still hiding. So, I move to my next step: free writing. I have mentioned this before, I believe, either here on the podcast or perhaps in the Extra Draft blog. Free writing is something I do to clear the cobwebs. It works well for me when I am in the middle of a project and get stuck, or develop writer's block. It works for the inspiration sometimes, too. 05:13 For free writing, I use pen and paper instead of the computer. I get comfy on the couch or in a big chair, or I'll even go to the coffee shop or local bookstore. I take my pad and paper and I just start writing whatever comes to mind. Try not to think about writing, or if it even makes sense. You just put words down. Whatever is in your head, it ends up on paper. When you free write, it goes fast. You find yourself scribbling on the paper at break-neck speeds. It's actually pretty fun.   Turn to Peers and Heroes
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Reading helps me find my inspiration, if I read a story I love. 05:57 If that doesn't jar the old hag from the rafters to give you the inspiration you need to work on your projects, there are other steps to try. Turn to your creative friends, admirer's or heroes. Most writer's that I know, myself included, have one or two author's that they adore. Or there are a couple of stories that really resonate with us. Every time I read them I get inspired to write myself. 06:25 I am unsure if it is just the fact that I love the story so much, or that I get the urge to emulate the greats, or exactly what. But after reading one of my favorite stories, I almost always feel like getting behind the keyboard and typing away. Some find this in their favorite music, or in a good movie. Whatever it is, there is just something about taking in the finished works of another creative that pushes us to get to work on our own projects. 07:00 Ninety-nine times out of 100, the aforementioned methods work for me. I am sure that they will also work for you. If they do not, there is a small list of other things you can try. First, take a longer break. Take a few days away from the computer or writing. Maybe your brain needs a longer break to do a full reset. Or, you can take one of those oddly inspirational 2 am showers. You always seem to get great ideas with a steaming hot 2 am shower.   Don't Just Take My Advice on Loss of Inspiration Fixes 07:38 Other writer's I know have other methods. Some do interviews with other creatives. They will call author friends on the phone and just talk it out. If you don't have any creative friends or family to call, talk to your self. Talking out loud is a great way to get the juices flowing. I have found myself walking around the house or out in the garden just jabbering away at myself. I don't look for answers. It is more of a verbal free writing, where I just talk about what's on my mind instead of writing it down. 08:16 Perhaps you have your own strange method of finding that inspirational cherub. If so, I urge you to go to the website at podcast dot Extra Draft dot com and look for episode 47. Scroll down to the comments section and let us know what works best for you.   A Few Weeks of Specific Help 08:44 Between depression and anxiety, a lack of motivation and the loss of inspiration, I have covered some of the biggest writing setbacks there are these last few weeks. With any luck, you will never need these episodes. If you do in the future, or are currently needing them now, I hope they help in some small way. 09:15 Also, if you have something else that is bothering you or keeping you from writing, head to the Extra Draft contact page (it's Extra Draft dot com forward slash contact) and send me a note. Perhaps I will be able to help you out through email and then produce another podcast episode to address that issue for the others out there. 09:42 Good luck with your writing and as always, until next week, kids - have fun; write words. 09:52   Read the full article
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lurrkingly · 4 years
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2019
content warning: suicidal ideation I wasn't originally going to write a reflective entry about 2019, but then I figured I might as well, if only so that I can look back on it in one year's time.
The first 9 months of the year I spent at home instead of at school. While I had a lot more time to do art and also work a long-term job, it wasn't great for my mental health. I can really only stand my family in small doses.
Artistically, 2019 was a year of (what I would call) exponential improvement for me. Technically and otherwise. I did get better at drawing, yeah, but I also learned a lot about what I like to draw, how to improve, and what an artistic industry looks like and prefers.
Starting at the end of 2018 and well into the middle of 2019, I thought it would be a good idea to contribute to a ton of zines. I'm talking literally a few dozens at this point. This was an interesting learning experience for me, because while most of my pieces were decent, and a few are some of my personal favorites now, a good portion of them are not pieces I'm proud of and have not really posted anywhere else lol. This period was a great lesson in time management and learning when to take on commitments, vs when to pass. I still do zines on occasion, but only after triple-checking with myself that I absolutely want to do them, and will have time to do them. I'm still learning how to do this correctly!
I also worked my first "real" job in the art industry-- in games! I worked for a small, relatively new studio on the demo of their first in-house project. The experience was great, and it taught me what I do and do not appreciate in a workplace. Now, I value direct communication more than ever. I'm really glad I got the opportunity to learn more about the industry firsthand. Having people tell me what to draw all the time also made me value personal art more, so that's something I also plan on doing more of in the future!
I learned that I still have a lot (like, a lot) of insecurities surrounding my art, which I'm still trying to conquer. I'm trying to open up to the idea of sharing my art with IRLs more, when the idea used to terrify me. It still makes me nervous sometimes, for lots of reasons I don't feel like elaborating on here, but I'm workin on it! These internal issues with my art were part of a larger ongoing mental health crisis for me. I was constantly bombarded with thoughts like-- Your friends don't actually like your art, they're just pretending; Your bf thinks your art is weird; No one in your life values you and you will eventually be replaced by everyone you care about; You're stupid and your friends hate you and make fun of you when you're not around; You'll never amount to anything, at best you'll just be a financial burden on your family; Everyone who claims they like your art just does so out of pity.
One of my New Year's Resolutions is to stop caring so much about follower counts and engagement. Though they are nice, they are no indicator of skill or passion for art. And before writing that sentence, I thought-- damn, I have so few followers in the grand scheme of things, it sounds like I'm saying that just because I'm small and unpopular, to make myself feel better. But on the other hand, I thought, if a really big artist were to say something similar, that followers do not exactly correlate with skill or passion, the response would just be "ur just saying that cause you have tens of thousands of followers lol". It is nice when people engage with my art-- I really appreciate it! But I truly strive to get back to the kind of mental space I was at when I started drawing seriously, at age 11 or so. That is, making art simply because it made me happy, not because I wanted to go with the current 24-hour tags or trends, or because I thought it would gain me followers. Some artists often say that drawing what you love will eventually find you the right audience. Even if it's not a huge audience, I think that's alright. I would rather have a smaller amount of people following me who are affected and inspired by my work than a larger one that does not.
Thus far, that attitude has been working! It's helped me care less about churning out relevant trendy art, and more about taking my time and creating pieces that I personally love to look at. Expect a lot more oc stuff from me in the future lol!
As far as my current mental health, I've returned to school (senior year baby!!) and I'm doing a lot better than I was earlier in 2019. I haven't seriously considered killing myself in a good few months, where before the urges would usually strike every week-and-a-half or so, and last for days on end.
I also found that RP stuff was also a major factor in my mental health, in 2019 and even before. I love rping and I love my OCs! But there are certain things about rping-- both in groups and with individuals 1-on-1-- that can be very draining. I suffer from rejection sensitive dysphoria, as a symptom of my ADHD. Essentially, I perceive very minor or non-issues to be a demonstration of how much my friends hate me and hate talking to me, and I experience very extreme and visceral reactions to that "rejection". So, in addition to IRL relationships, online and rp relationships can cause me great distress very easily, and trigger anxiety or depressive episodes. For the sake of my mental health and happiness, my second big New Year's Resolution is not necessarily to care less about my rp friends, but more to focus on myself, and what I can create and enjoy on my own.
To that end-- I want to try and at least finish crafting the plots of my comic(s) in 2020. I have a few planned, but obviously comic-making is a very time-consuming process, and I want to be fully prepared before I jump in. So, I probably won't even get to publishing any in 2020. If I do, I'll be surprised. But! Like I said before, expect much more OC art out of me in the coming year. I feel inspired by my OCs all the time, and I hope you enjoy seeing them lol!
2020 will be a year of transitions for me. I will be graduating college in June, and I will be attending graduate school the following fall, starting my master's degree in the field of counselling, or marriage and family therapy. I am also applying to art school, which I plan to complete online. Hopefully that all works out! : D
I also kind of want to start writing more personal posts here on tumblr and DA as well. I want you guys to get to know me better! That's always one of my favorite parts about following artists-- getting to know their personality, etc.
Anyways, if you've read this whole thing, cool! I hope you know at least a little more about me as a person.
I hope you have a 2020 full of discoveries, excitement, and comfort. At the very least, I hope you pledge to truly strive to take care of yourself in 2020, even more than in 2019. I will do the same.
Warmly,
lurr / niisanberg
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