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[ninazeniks]

—  ATLAS AND ATHENA

genre: new adult / urban fantasy

pov: third person, present tense

themes + tropes: rivals to lovers, forced proximity, found family, war and rebellion, betrayal, very unreliable narrator, masks and the people that see through them, anti-heroes, grief, angels and wings and flying, complicated family dynamics, conspiracy theories, identity reveal, working through trauma, undercover shenanigins, spies and double agents, everyone has a motive and a side to the story.

status: outlining, first draft

wip page | wip tag

— SYNOPSIS:

an angel falls out of the sky. 

a girl is shot in the stomach.

a spy goes to an auction.

when a mission goes abruptly sideways, nina rhodes, agent and sharpshooter for the ambigiously named agency — a network of spies and espionage working on both sides of the law; good and evil, mortal and divine — is partnered with atticus sideris, archangel and member of the elite, dangerous themis guard, dedicated to preserving the order of the divine realm.

an order that is in jeopardy. ages ago, in centuries lost to the clutches of time, the divide between mortal and angel was impenetrable. eventually, over thousands of years, the bloodlines mixed, and angelic divinity seeped into the mortal realm, enough so that most ‘mortals’ have at least a modicum of divinity. archangels, those angels entirely pureblooded, live within the Aether, the divine realm literally above the mortals, with their own rule of law and a reaffirmed boundary.

a human rebellion was had. 

a truce was formed. 

the flames were not smothered. 

now, ten years after one of the greatest terror attacks on record, a human bringing down three of the infamous themis guard, someone is producing divine weapons, able to harm archangels, for mortal use. the issue — divinity makes mortals feral. combine that with a bioengineering company looking to genetically alter mortals to carry more divinity, and a second war is on the verge of erupting.

nina and atticus, mortal and archangel, are assigned to a task force to dismantle the weapons smuggling ring. but when nina unwillingly finds herself the target of another investigation, and atticus helpless to reveal the truth, they have to work backwards, finding the connection to themselves and their team, even as they try to keep their truths from each other.

— CHARACTERS:

nina “athena” rhodes. mortal. 24. sharpshooter turned spy. empathetic, bright, neurotic, stubborn, analytical.

atticus “atlas” sideris. archangel. immortal. commander. surly, reserved, loyal, protective, tormented.

manon moreau-popova. mortal. 25. assassin. cold, cunning, defensive, callous, evasive.

ismena dhaniels. archangel. immortal. enforcer. brave, afraid, passionate, intuitive, blunt.

reuel kovac. mortal. 27. liar. vindictive, relentless, charming, rash, self-serving.

taglist below the cut, ask to be +/-

general: @noloumna @kazino @incipientdream @mahalii @adaparkwrites @perditism

#murdereddarlings #lostghosts #projectsquareup #authorsnet #writeblr #writblr #WIP Intro #wip introduction #wips #writing #writers on tumblr #original writing #original fiction #wip | atlas and athena

[kahaaniyaa]

It was already too late. The choices were made. Destiny was chosen.

Title: Our Treacherous Paths

Type: novel

Genre: ya fantasy

Status: first draft

POV: third limited, multiple

Tense: past tense

Themes: determination, found family, lgbtq+ rep, revenge, secrets, betrayal, romance, grief, death, trauma

—SYNOPSIS

A secret. A revenge. A betrayal.

Some wars perhaps never end when they are thought to have.

As the story goes, its been ten years. Ten years since the sudden war between Vaatika and Orden. Ten years since the defeat of Vaatika. And ten years since the kingdom of Vaatika has been left in ashes.

But there are secrets. And there's much too many mysteries left behind in those ashes.

Kiran, on a mission, is wandering outside her kingdom, Orden, where she gets entangled into the lives of three Vaatikans searching for a way into Orden. When she gets recruited by them, she soon realizes that the kingdom of Orden might not have been the saviour ten years ago as everyone believed. As the consequences of ten years prior starts to cause chaos, it falls on Kiran, Vihaan, Alisha and Afreen to bring out the truth. But in between people who have trusted and told her the truth more than anyone else in her life, Kiran is holding a secret. A secret which threatens their shaky alliance. One, she is determined to not let out.

CHARACTERS :–

Kiran Shah: Stuck between court schemes, secrets and lies, she has to make her own choice, and choose her side before its too late.

Kingdom: Orden

Vihaan Bakshi: Heart full of love for his kingdom and vengeful for its destruction, he awaits the moment when the kingdom of Orden falls.

Kingdom: Vaatika

Afreen Ali: An artist stuck between her duty and passion, yearns for freedom of those wronged ten years ago.

Kingdom: Vaatika

Alisha Basu: Haunted by her past, a soldier biding her time by waiting for her moment of glory to come, she wishes for revenge and to see the kingdom of Orden burn.

Kingdom: Chaalki

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @opes-magnas @taqdeers @jiangsziyas @kishons @gnymedes​ @zoya-writes​ @seas-dubh

Tagging some amazing writeblrs: @rhikasa @mshelleys @yaqarah @the-unwrittenwriter

Special thanks to @myhollowcries for always helping me out <33

#wip.our treacherous paths #wip.mine #wip intro #wip introduction #new wip #writers on tumblr #writersnet #murdereddarlings #lostghosts #mine. #intro.mine #authorsnet #*

[authorsnet]

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[sultanah]

@authorsnet​ event 01: first meetings — Najm Abbas and Sana Ahmed

Prequel to OUR VENGEFUL DESIRES

When one takes the pledge of the Dhimr Academy, one should not intend to break it.

Najm supposed intention was too big a word here. He had not planned to break the pledge, nor had he known that he would. But time had the tendency to alter plans. 

Seven exits. Twenty-four guards on duty. Thirty-six classes in session. One Qubba—one, one, one.

He gasped, hand flying to his head as a blinding pain erupted at his right temple. Najm reached for something to hold onto, trying to steady his steps as fire spread through his mind, his own skin hot to the touch.

Focus. Let the details come to you.

Seven exits. Because this was the largest academy in Arijwan, the most prestigious. One only highly qualified Sahera—or in his case, highly rare—were privy to attend. Twenty-four guards. He had counted the few lining the roof, as well. For insurance. Thirty-six classes. Because he had memorized the Academy’s schedule his first night here. One Qubba, because there was only one word he remembered his mother shouting on the night she died.

Najm dropped to the floor, his knees hitting the tile with enough force to make him gasp. The pain was receding, white spots now littering his vision instead. He tried to focus on a small beetle, pleasantly tottering along the seam where stone met tile. He let his mind calm for a minute more before trying to stand again.

His professors had developed many words to describe Najm since his arrival—special case was the one he’d come to expect. Ticking bomb was one they favored in his absence.

None of which seemed to adequately clarify why Najm’s affinity was the only one that brought about so much pain.

The Dhimr Academy was an ancient, large building that seemed devoid of light at any time of day. Stone arches made up the halls, diamond-shaped porcelain rising up from the sides in decorative circles. There was no effort spared in perfecting such a prestigious academy. And Najm should have loved it. The Najm he used to be might have. He might have marveled at the intricately carved birds raised against the inside walls. The swirls of color exploding beneath the high-raised dome at the main entrance. Or the library with levels of shelves too high for his reach, and too advanced for his mind.

But he had not been that boy for many months.

He rose on shaky legs, leaning heavily against the wall. If his memory served, and it always had, there were eighteen minutes left before someone—likely a guard, possibly a professor on his way to his next class—noticed that Najm was not where he was supposed to be. And if the headmaster’s threats served as well as Najm’s memory, then he had to get back before then.

“I was told you were clever, but only an idiot would try to sneak past the headmaster’s own office and expect no consequences.” 

Najm startled, his legs nearly giving out under him as he whipped around to face the voice.

A short girl, years too young to be on this floor, with hair cropped under her chin and an amused glint in her dark eyes stood there. Her arms were crossed, head tilted to the side. 

Najm tried to prevent his mind from springing into details but it had already slipped its leash—her concealed fists were clenched, meaning her abilities were currently in use, and since Najm had not heard her approach, that meant she was a Silver. The beige dress she wore fell loosely around her, short sleeves connected to the fabric giving the appearance of a bird’s wings mid-flight. And the Silver threads weaved around the neckline confirmed his theory about her Sahera affinity. A Wielder of Winds. She was too young for this floor, but evidently, her control surpassed her age. She had been moved up a few levels. 

And the only reason she would know the concealed back door to the headmaster’s office was only a few steps away, was if she had been one of the students who had played a prank on him months ago.

“Sana Ahmed,” he said, wincing. He forced his breathing to even. Let the details come to you.

She hummed, a small smile curling her lips, “you are not supposed to be down here.”

Najm swallowed. He was still recovering from his last burst of power, and he knew that any response his mind might generate now would be a lie. He settled for a shrug.

“What happens if they find you?” she said, apparently happy to keep active a one-sided conversation.

Najm said nothing. It hurt too much to lie.

“I’m told I can be reckless,” she added thoughtfully, raising a hand and uncurling her fingers one by one. Around them, abandoned classroom doors were being pushed open by an invisible hand. “Do I want to be here when they find you?”

Najm watched her for a moment longer. There was a door at the end of the hall flanked by two guards on the outside. If she wished to allow it, that door could burst open and they’d both be caught out of class. She looked much too amused at the situation, and Najm had heard enough about the students here to realize none of them truly cared to mind themselves. 

But then, none of them were being forced to come here against their will.

“What do you want?” he said finally. He doubted she even realized what he was offering. A truth. Truths didn’t hurt. Truths were easy, the world was made of them. Truths were the details his mind overflowed with. But not everyone deserved the truth, just because it was there.

Her eyes gleamed with victory and a flick of her wrist slammed shut the few doors she had opened. “Is it true you are a Gold?”

Najm clenched his jaw, the word had already become a sore bruise against his thoughts. “Yes.” 

“Will you let it kill you?” 

Najm was struck for a moment by how matter-of-factly she spoke. When the Kashif had revealed to Najm what his affinity was, his tone had been grave, almost sad. He had told him, your mind is not your own. And then paused. It had occurred to Najm then that at this point an adult might stare meaningfully into his eyes and demand he never forgets their words. 

But he had not understood then that being a Gold meant never forgetting. 

When he spoke again his words were quiet, filled with the fire that haunted his dreams and filled his thoughts. Those same flames turned determined. 

“Never.”

Sana watched him for a moment, her gaze curious. 

“Good,” she decided finally.  She turned away as if to leave before hesitating, glancing back once. It occurred to Najm that while him being there at that exact time, in that exact place was entirely purposeful, Sana had appeared there by coincidence. 

Coincidence, the thought echoed in his own mind, almost mocking. The world is hardly ever that careless.

“Stay,” Sana said, at last, her words quiet. “Neither of us needs to be here alone.”

— TAGLIST (ask +/-) 

@aeternve; @gnymedes; @hennawar; @kamadevis; @naava-kaiho; @naazyalenksy; @rapunzelle; @revouries; @saifs; @talesofsorrowandofruin; @yaqarah; @adastrals; @chuchoters; @etoilesvp; @fictional-semantics; @herondalelucies; @vaelinor; @chazzawrites; @arkicts; @kalliopeian; @maharaanis; @eduardstudying ; @seamajorshanties;

#wip:ovd #ovd excerpt* #ovd prequel* #mine* #authorsnet #wtwcommunity #writersnet #writers on tumblr #[ idk how to tag this but !! finally some writing ahh ] #sunsetdistrict&starfallisland

[yaqarah]

Writerblr Re-Intro

↳ About

Hi, i’m lilah. she/her. this blog is for my writing in case u didn’t get that already.

↳ WIPs

Unexpected

Synopsis: Eliana Lavinsky and Noah Ascherminn don’t like each other. At all. Never have and never will, and they don’t ever plan on changing that. But when their strengths–and weaknesses–lead them to make a mutually beneficial deal, the dynamics between them start to shift quicker than they thought.

Characters: Eliana Lavinsky, Noah Ascherminn, Sarah Chen, Jordi Cardell, Zosia Ascherminn

Themes: friendship, romance, intergenerational trauma

Warnings: antisemitism, trauma

link

⤫⤫⤫

Castling for Escape

Synopsis: Reluctant newlyweds Leila Kagan and Evin Saretas want nothing to do with each other. They appear in public together, and live separate lives the rest of the time, and plan to do nothing more until the day they die. Evin watches his brother train the knights, while Leila goes out to run the Zirah, Apnourah’s most popular duelling arena. But after an assassination attempt is made on Evin, the two decide to make a deal: Leila will use the Zirah to lure in the person behind the attempt in exchange for passage out of Apnourah, severing her connection to Evin once and for all. However, the Zirah lures more than just a suspect, leaving Leila and Evin to realize they might be stuck where they are for longer than they hoped. 

Characters: Leila Kagan, Evin Saretas, Hanni Nazarian, Jamie Andrade, Zach Saretas, Becca Glaser, Elijah Klein

Themes: lgbtq rep, friendship, found family, romance, suspense

Warnings: violence, descriptions of gore, death

link

↳ Questions

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tags under the cut

@everslarks @rapunzelle @saifs @gnymedes @vaelinor @maharaanis @aeternve @sukoonat @brahmaands @arkicts @sltaaras

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[writerjodie]

which character from my book series are you???

#authorsnet #wtwcommunity #writeblr #my writing #f1 wip #f1

[kellmareshgf]

tagged by the lovely @pergaias 💕

relationship status: do you really think i'd have a yearning tag if i was in a relationship?

favorite color: black / dark green / cream

three favourite foods: mantu (tajik style dumplings) / sushi / waffles

song stuck in my head: townie by mitski

last thing I listened to: my 'angsty coming of age movie' playlist on spotify

last thing I googled: 'recondite meaning'

time: 3:40 pm

dream trip: new york city / greece

currently reading: nothing currently though im debating between these violent delights by chloe gong and ace of spades by faridah àbíké-íyímídé

last song: infinitesimal by mother mother

last movie: the curse of la llarona

sweet, savory, or spicy: sweet. always.

tea or coffee: both. love wins.

currently working on: my entry for @/authorsnet from my wip, mortem

tagging: @redding @caryslast @arithmancy @nabrizoya @narcissuscore @ anyone who wants to do this!!

#misc: ask games

[barbierxberts]

hi hi Harls, the creator of authorsnet has deleted the blog and server. She is leaving tumblr soon (this week I think?) and yeah ..:/....Just letting you know

oh yeah i heard from isa, thanks for telling me :) i hope she’ll do well <33

#pandora tag #send a telegram #mutuals #tysm for telling me! #lovely friends

[olimpias]

@authorsnet​​ event 01: first meetings – alex and francis

"Alex, this is Mr Francis Farraday-Tate," Ivy said, pointing to the young man Alex had already noticed. He was very pale, had dark, deep-set eyes and was leaning majestically in the corner of the sofa with such an arrogant expression on his face that Alex would hardly have dared to address him of his own accord. "He's a writer," Ivy added in a confidential tone. "Pleased to meet you!" exclaimed Alex cheerfully, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, Francis took it with his own, which was icy. "I am seldom in the habit of speaking to strangers," he said with dignity, "but I suppose it cannot always be avoided. In this case: the pleasure is all mine." The hint of an extremely distinguished smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Now that's a cocky one," Alex said quietly to Ivy. "That couldn't happen to me!" "Don't pretend to be modest, Alex. It doesn't suit you." "Excuse me, I'm the most modest person I know." "As you can tell just by that statement, can't you?" In mock indignation, Alex shook his head and turned back to Francis, who quickly lowered his head as if Alex had caught him watching him. "So you're a writer, Mr Farraday-Tate," Alex said. The large, charcoal-coloured eyes locked on him. "Do you doubt that?" "Why no, I've just never read anything by you before. Are you any good?" "Don't embarrass the poor man like that," Ivy called over her shoulder. And addressing Francis, she said, "You'll have to get used to him being so direct. And just quite impossible in every other way, too. You could be straight up angry with him if he wasn't so terribly disarming, couldn't you?" Alex wrinkled his nose in her direction. "I wrote something once too," he said thoughtfully. "It was a sort of small play about a man who finds out his best friend is a murderer. In the end, though, he gets killed." "By his friend?" asked Francis, who suddenly seemed quite interested. "No, by a policeman who thinks he's his friend. It's a bit complicated, to be honest." Francis nodded. "Seems like it." "And you? What do you usually write?" "Ah," Francis said, sitting up. Obviously this subject was very close to his heart. "Do you know E. T. A. Hoffmann?" "But of course," Alex replied. "One of my favourite authors, in fact." "You know, all my life as a writer I have tried to write in that or a similar style, for example, Edgar Allan Poe-" "I see, you write old-fashioned horror stories!" "Well, I would rather-" "Now, now, that's wonderful! I just love that kind of story! I must read something of yours sometime, if you don't mind!" "No, not at all," said Francis, whose eyes were now positively shining.

general taglist: @wherewindysurgeswend​ @buster-keaton​ @bookphobe​ @write-gallagher​ @aphaimaniis​ @tragediesoftory​ @ortolon​

cosmopolitan taglist: @alias-levi @johnsonshildy @writerlywonders @buster-keaton @rememberedkisses @writingbyjillian @tragediesoftory @bulletgirl @bookphobe @cespye @aphaimaniis @mayawritesbooks @plutoslittlecosmos​ @fictional-semantics​ @ryns-ramblings​ @silverstqrs​ @chuchoters​ @ashen-crest​ @arkicts​ @generalblizzarddreamer​ @blindthewind​ @ladywithalamp​ @ravenetteviolets​

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[authorsnet]

authorsnet is back for its second event! for this month, we would like our members to write a piece about the folklore within their wips. you can interpret this prompt however you like, and don't forget to be creative with it!

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[sultanah]

y’all are not ready for the chapter I’m going to post this weekend

#[ anyway check out authorsnet it’s so sexc !! ] #[ it’s about 1k or so and the theme is first meetings so 👀 #notes from ada

[ninazeniks]

CAMP NANO: ATLAS AND ATHENA EXCERPT

current word count - 8069/30k

i got a lot of this written at work today! chapter five, not this part but earlier, is giving me Grief, but nina’s backstory was fun to get into words. writing from atticus’ pov is actually easier than nina’s, which i didn’t, but is appreciated lol.

full excerpt transcript and taglist below the cut, ask to be +/-

Atticus finds Nina in the courtyard, sitting crosslegged on a bench.

He sees the back of her head first, familiar narrow shoulders tensed and her wet hair gone caramel, braided back and pinned up sloppily; a little less perfectly put together than usual. She changed her clothes again, like this morning never happened, with her jacket flung over the arm of the bench.

He sits carefully at the far edge of the bench and looks at her.

She’s composed, aside from the way her hands are shredding the label off an empty plastic water bottle in her lap. She doesn’t look up.

He offers her the fresh one in his hand.

She looks at him warily, blue eyes guarded, but takes it, without letting their fingers brush.

“You alright?” He’s an archangel, dammit. He is the Commander of the Themis. He should not feel so skittish approaching this slip of a mortal.

She unscrews the cap and twists it back on without drinking any. She doesn’t reply.

“That was —.”

“If you say hot, I will use the next divine weapon I find to cut off your balls.” She spits, sharp and low, and she glares at him, eyes cold enough to freeze fire.

He splutters, reeling. He might actually cower against the bench. “Fucking — gods, Nina, no.”

He was going to say impressive, but suddenly he doesn’t think that would go over well either. This terrifying slip of a mortal.

“Who —?”

A muscle in her jaw feathers, and he remembers her twist away from Reuel. Charming.

She’s about a second away from launching off the bench, he can tell from the set of her shoulders.

“Why don’t you work as a sharpshooter full time?” He asks carefully, directing them away from whatever was going on with that landmine. He likes his balls where they are, thanks.

“I used to,” she says, emotionless again, fiddling with the cap of the water bottle. “It’s why I got recruited, actually. Fresh out of school.”

That explains why there was no mention of the training academy in her file.

“I always knew I wanted to work here, when I was a teenager, so I went to their summer programs.” She takes a sip of the water. “They weren’t really intense, not like the training academy would’ve been, but we got to take a tour and meet the directors and we got lessons on practice assignments from the different departments.” She smiles faintly. “And towards the end of the month, under very heavy supervision, the top twenty percent got to shoot in the real target range.”

It was a scouting practice, he realizes. Checking who they would pay special attention to if they followed the training academy route, check out potential agents.

“I had never fired a gun before in my life, never so much as held one.” She shifts to face him a little more.

“Natural talent?” He guesses, based on everything he just saw.

She smiles again. It still doesn’t reach her eyes. “You could say that. We used the standard hand guns at first. I didn’t really stand out too much there, there were lots of agency kids who had grown up shooting them. I hit the target every time, first two misses notwithstanding.”

Still impressive, that she got it so quickly after adjusting to the recoil and all that came with a gun.

“And then we moved onto sniper rifles. And that’s where natural talent kind of becomes an understatement.” There’s some life in her eyes again. He relaxes a little. “I had one iffy shot into the target’s shoulder and then it was just… shot after shot after shot, dead on headshots.” She shrugs and pulls one knee to her chest, hooking her chin over it. “I still don’t know how. They thought I was joking that I had no experience, then they had to show me how to dismantle it.” She huffs.

“Wow.”

She nods. “Indeed. I mean, looking back, I was sloppy, I had no technique. I was one strong blowback away from a dislocated shoulder. I was underage, so I couldn’t train at a range without supervision, but I went back the next summer, and they let me stay late everyday for target practice with the academy teacher, and then with the academy class. And the year after that, when I turned eighteen, right when I graduated, I got an offer to skip the academy and go straight into sharpshooting training at the agency.” She smiles, rueful. “I took it.”

He doesn’t press. This is the most he’s ever heard her speak, and any words he has might as well be a foghorn in the peace.

“I had a year of training and shadowing before I moved fully into solo work. I spent three years as a sniper before being promoted to a proper spy.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I like sharpshooting. I’ve won the agency-wide assessments three years running. I didn’t like being a sniper,” she says simply. “All I did was kill people, day in, day out. I wasn’t brought in for any other reason. There was never any hope. It was too clinical, too distant. A lot of them were horrible, vile people, but I was still the one putting a bullet between their eyes.”

“It got perfunctory.” He knows the feeling, more than she ever could, and it feels wrong to hear the words coming so fittingly from someone else’s mouth.

“I couldn’t live with it,” she hums in agreement. “It was too… efficient, too detached for me. I never felt like I could get the blood off my hands.” She looks at her hands in her lap, ripping the label off the water bottle again. “I couldn’t take it any more, it was killing me.”

Being commanded by your own powers are manacles you can’t take off.

“My boss almost had a fit when I told him I was moving departments two years ago.” He bets — she’s essentially a prodigy. “But we compromised: I come along on high stakes, high risk assignments, but that’s it. And I still run workshops for the newbies, and a session with the academy once a year.” She fidgets with the bottle again. “It was getting to the point where the only things I liked about sharpshooting was working with other teams. We compromised — it was either they let me move or I walked. And they decided my skill set was too good to pass up.”

He wonders if she could have actually done it. What it would be like to walk away from it all — to have the spine to say it.

“Does it bother you?” He blinks, she’s turned to face him properly on the bench, watching him a little nervously. "I know you’re like an immortal archangel cop, and you basically got your arm twisted into working with a barely-semi-legal espionage agency. Half of our departments are illegal, you know.”

He does know, and he deeply doesn’t care.

“Or with me?” She tacks on. “I didn’t want this partnership any more than you did, but I’m pretty sure you got the short end of the deal.” Her lips twitch faintly up, self-deprecating. It’s the farthest thing from genuine. “Stuck working with a dubiously ethical twenty-four year old murderer?”

And she got a rude, impatient, age-old asshole for a partner who hasn’t been bothered to give her the benefit of the doubt. He swallows.

“No,” he says. “It doesn’t bother me. Seriously, Nina, the Themis isn’t…” The words stick in his throat. “It’s not what you think. If you knew half the things I’ve done…”

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but she nods anyway.

Something else occurs to him.

“Aren’t those training in high demand?” Her Athena mask comes down again. “Like, I thought you had to be some big shot’s kid to get on it, but you’d never even fired a gun before?”

Nina straightens up, brushing invisible dust off her shirt as she stands. He think she’s going to walk away, but she gives him a flat smile before saying, “Something like that.”

She throws both bottle wrappers in the garbage as she walks into the building.

atlas taglist

@ikilledmyocs @foolshoped @palimpsestiism @wisteria-eventide @the-titular-bird @glitterandstarshine @faelanvance @chishiio @worldbuildng

general

@noloumna @kazino @incipientdream @mahalii @adaparkwrites @perditism

#writeblr #writing #nanowrimo #murdereddarlings #projectsquareup #authorsnet #writers on tumblr #original writing #writblr #original fiction #lostghosts #wip | atlas and athena

[authorsnet]

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Best of luck to whoever decides to apply!! Remember to spread the word and fill out the form by August 30th!

#* #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #writers net #writeblr #authorsnet

[authorsnet]

welcome again to all of our new members, we’re so excited to have you! for your first evet at authorsnet, we’d like you to post a snippet of any characters’ first meeting. this can be lovers to-be, enemies to-be, friends to-be...etc.

to join:

reblog this post                              

post a snippet of any characters’ first meeting (get creative with this! maybe add an edit alongside it or a header on top!)

caption your creations with:  “ @authorsnet​ event 01: first meetings —  [ snippet ] ”

tag your creations with #authorsnet

entries close on march 30th and this event is open to members only. good luck!

#* #*event #01 #authorsnet