#other writing

[derangedrhythms]

E. M. Cioran, The Trouble With Being Born, tr. Richard Howard

#e. m. cioran #the trouble with being born #other writing #u

[scrybe-scott]

So I’ve been reading a giant collection of pulp crime fiction to get into the vibe and headspace I need to write Concrete Midnights, and I can’t stop thinking about this passage from the foreword.

IMAGINE THIS BEING PRINTED ABOUT YOU

YOU INVENTED A GENRE AND A BOOK DISSECTING THE HISTORY OF THAT NOW FLOURISHED AND SUCCESSFUL GENRE HAS ONLY THIS TO SAY

It’d be over for me. I’d end it. Hang it up. Call it a day. Throw in the towel. It’s over.

#callahanscorner #other writing #pulp fiction is bonkers #I’m kind of living for this editor though #the foreword and introduction both had some bangers in there

[meta-metamorph]

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you have ignored

for another . . .

—Derek Walcott, Collected Poems

#other writing

[aspaceformbf]

Seems like someone from another universe ran into YB, who seemed to be stuck in an inactive game realm.

Source

#other writing #fic

[maniatothemaxxie]

Hi there mutual!

I read the first chapter of your new fic and I really liked it!

I found the heavy presence of food on the worldbuilding quite interesting, and I wanted to ask what's the cultural relationship between food and Cyclone and Zeena? (I definitely wrote that name wrong. Sorry.

Also, where did the protagonists come from? Why are they fighting alone against never seen troops (for me at least) in California? You don't need to answer this if it's a spoiler!

Have a nice day :D good luck with your project

Oh uh- well it’s more of a mood setting, I’ll give ya a bit of an answer for the cultural aspect. The Salad Gardens are something that Cyclone really loves and wants to protect it because his mother was a farmer who helped create it with others farmers, and Zeena is just there to help him, willingly and unwillingly.

#writeblr #original fiction #other writing #other writers #worldbuilding #original concepts

[ladyazulina]

@cilly-the-writer

So... I just read all you have around about Shadows of Sorcery and I can say I was hooked from the first post more than enough to read everything in a moment. And anyone can say it wasn't much, but I don't feel only invested now. It's kind of 'I need to know everything, tell me EVERYTHING, AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH'.

E(F)lora's story feels so interesting, I even like her temporary name. And the magic is so, uuuuuuuh, fitting. I loved Imogen at first appearance and was able to imagine her just like she is, so sunny and with such vitality (Elora, she was upset about the aloe vera! AAAAAAHHHHHH) and she was about to die just like that! And who wouldn't want enhanced balance like Elora? The goddess knows I need that.

I want to see Imogen gathering the firelights, she's just THE friend

I kinda just got confused with Charlotte's kind of magic, I even went looking for the post where you talked about them and was like uuuuuuh, I only get the Caster and the Dreamer, what's the rest????

I wanted to dive into that kind of world, like... what would I be? What would my characters be? It feels so fricking exciting!!

Can we have a master post with all the links placed? Because I was almost crying while looking for the first part

I see in the near future a quiz to know what your type of magic is, it would be marvelous.

Hoping to continue reading! At the pace you set ♥

#just talking to the void #about #other writing #other works #cilly being silly #to be exact #i love it #i love this #shadows of sorcery #wip: sos #yeah #SOS #because I do need help now #where's the love interest though /j #this was so good #the better part of my day definitely #thank you very much #I'm glad to you for sharing this

[meismalis]

2013

Death is without doubt my worst fear, for it is unknown what happens when we perish. Do our souls float away in a gold chariot to the beauty of an afterlife or do we rot in the ground without even another thought? Do our souls still exist with the death of our brain? A piece of me knows that it does not. Every scientific conclusion states that our soul cannot live without the pulse of the neurons within our brains. that being said, there’s nothing when we die. Absolutely nothing. Every fiber of who we are fades away, we do not carry our memories, our values, our thoughts with us. It fades into nothing, and that is what frightens me beyond anything in this universe. Nothingness. Nothing. Black-not even black, for black is something. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

#other writing #other writings #other

[ramonag-if]

Can we get more snippets of Faye Oak please? 😍 like is MC a lawyer sort? is it more angsty than COE? uuuuu so exciting!

It's not even a real game, Anon 😜

Because I'm too lazy to go into depth with the plot, here are the first four chapters that I wrote and republished just for you to read 😅

#answered asks #faye oak #other writing #18+ only

[derangedrhythms]

Do you believe in ghosts? The creak on the stair, the chill in the room, a strange scent, a wavering light in the window. The ancient house, the walled-up wing, drifting fog, broken battlements, deep darkness, silent desolation, the empty tomb and its rotting shroud, the damp bed too soft to the touch. The sudden presence of a presence.

Jeanette Winterson, from ‘Night Side of the River’

#jeanette winterson #night side of the river #other writing #ghost

[aspaceformbf]

By @maaichen

You start to gain your senses when you feel a sudden weight on your lap.

"Finally, finally, finally. God, darling, I--"

It's your boyfriend. He currently has his arm wrapped tightly around you, his face buried into your belly.

He rubs his face even deeper into your belly, letting you feel his purr like a vibration running through you. He inhales your scent with a long breath, making him purr louder. It tickles somehow.

---

He slowly lifts his head, staring up at you with a vulnerable look in his big eyes... just to crawl a little higher on top of you.

His blue eyes shine, showing how ecstatic he is right now, just to see your face in front of him. You are here, in his house!

---

His gaze becomes softer the more he stares into your beautiful, gorgeous eyes. He can see that you are as happy as he is, and... that moves something deep inside him.

A feeling so perfect that it almost makes him cry with happiness. He lets out a small gasp while his right hand cups your cheek, letting you feel how nervous he is right now.

"........ I love you. Oh, God, I love you so much, darling. I love you, I love you, I love you..."

He continues to mumble as he suddenly buries his face in your neck, rubbing it against your perfect, soft, sweet-smelling skin.

You smell like heaven and home to him at the same time. You are perfect. You are for him.

#other writing

[meismalis]

*reposting old prose/poetry/writings that were originally posted on my old blogs, so that I have them posted and tagged here*

2013

All around me I hear, “I want somebody to love” and I Cringe. To love is tedious and often lacks promise when ironically, love stands for promise itself. I do not want somebody to love, I want someone to hold, without promise of love or care or bouquets of roses and candy hearts. I want the proximity of someone, that is that. For presence rewards deeper than love. I am trying to explain how that makes sense, when proximity of someone is closely linked to loving someone. All in all, they are not the same. I cannot explain why but I can tell you with truth that they are not.

#Other #other writing #other writings