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space-writes · 10 months

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why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)

hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.

obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:

It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!

Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!

you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.

It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.

HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing

Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.

I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.

OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible

this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal

do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between

finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them

the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.

that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)

anyway, come try obsidian!

#obsidian md #obsidian.md #writeblr #writing program #writing #writing process #notes app #space has thoughts #writing apps #writing tools #writer things #writing setup #this whole blog has just been a long con to get more people to download obsidian #notes app (beloved)

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phantom-0-writer · 6 months

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scene 5: to win a war, fight the battles

continuation of tim's arch nemesis

Tim had done his research. He was a Bat after all. Mr. Nolan was infamous for handing out the most difficult assignment right after midterm, weighing a heaping 40% of their final grade. Physics class had never been of much interest to Tim, he found it straightforward and elementary compared to the many projects he’s committed himself to as a Bat, and member of the Young Justice League. And it just so happened to be the only classes Tim shared with one Daniel James Fenton for the semester.

While Tim’s fellow classmates groaned at the announcement Mr. Nolan made, Tim’s knew his fate for the next three weeks was decided. He’d stayed up extra late completing his last case, and had even let his finger break so he could be off patrol without suspicion. Only his pinky of course, but enough for it to count. Despite all of Tim’s meticulous preparation for the assignment, he could only find the requirements with the rest of his class.

Tim had considered hacking into the system and finding all of Mr.Nolan’s notes for this assignment. The reason he hadn’t done it wasn’t because he couldn’t - the school’s firewalls were a joke - but because that would mean he was admitting that the only way he could beat Daniel James Fenton was to use underhanded tactics. And that was not a defeat Tim would take.

Tim listened closely as Mr.Nolan explained how this semester’s project would consist of him and an assigned partner creating a model using any of the physics topics they had covered throughout the semester and present it on the due date. They had till the next class to submit a formal proposal of their topic. Simple enough.

There was just one liability in Tim’s way now: the assigned partner. Normally Tim wouldn’t have been so worried, after all this class was for the advanced students in an already competitive school. But this time was different. This time Tim had a goal. He needed to annihilate Daniel.

“The partners for this project will be on the screen, I suggest you all get comfortable because you’ll be seeing each other a lot for the remainder of the semester.” As the projector flickered to life it dawned the document that would make or break Tim’s future.

There were 36 students in their class, a perfect even number. Discluding Tim there were 35 other students. Daniel was simply one- one- of the 35. There was a measly 3% chance they would be paired.

And yet.

And yet, there it was. Printed clearly in front of Tim’s eyes.

Timothy Drake - Daniel Fenton

In a moment of insurgence, Tim raised his hand, “Sir, I would like to change partners.” There wasn’t anyone in particular Tim would rather be paired with, but he could not have his plans mutilated by such a catastrophe.

Mr. Nolan raised a brow at Tim, “Is there a reason in particular, Mr. Drake?”

Tim hesitated. He had no qualms with telling Mr.Nolan the reason, but if he were to say it in front of the whole class with Daniel present he would lose the element of surprise. “No, sir.”

Mr. Nolan leaned back onto the podium, “Is there someone else you would prefer to work with then, Mr. Drake?”

In pure humiliation, “No, sir.”

“Well I’m glad to see I’ve made a suitable match.” Mr.Nolan concluded with finality, “Any other questions, Mr. Drake?”

“Are we graded individually or together?” Tim clung to his last tether of hope like a lifeline.

Unequivocally and mercilessly Mr. Nolan crushed Tim’s very being. “Together.” Tim sunk into his seat. He had become his own worst enemy. Tim ignored the confused look Daniel sent him from the other side of the classroom, saving himself the disgrace. “Any other question?” Mr.Nolan asked the class.

There was still a way for him to crush Daniel under his steel toed Red Robin boots. Tim would simply overpower Daniel with his superior skills and intellect, and make it unquestionably clear that it was Tim who had gotten them the perfect score. A year - 5 - 10 years from now this would be the memory that woke Daniel up in cold sweat in the middle of the night.

Psychological warfare. Tim’s specialty.

Once Mr.Nolan gave them the signal to disperse into their groups Tim met Daniel halfway between the two ends of the room where they sat.

“Uh, Tim, right?” Daniel asked with an awkward wanna-be polite smile.

“Yes, nice to meet you.” Tim flashed a smile he had perfected at the years of gala’s and business meetings he’d attended. Disarming, and charming. The perfect set up to sweep the enemy from under their feet. “Daniel, I believe.” A casual show of power, usually brushed off as unintentional. It was fully intentional.

“Danny’s fine.” He corrected with what must have been an attempt at an unassuming smile. Tim knew better, Danny would be ruthless in his attempt to permanently upsurge Tim from beautifully satiating first place. “So any ideas on what we should do our assignment on?”

Danny’s coup would not be successful for Tim had come prepared. “We could reconfigure an airplane for better aerodynamics.” Tim had gone through great lengths to research and develop that about a month ago for the Bat Plane, and if he dumbed it down slightly it should pass for a civilian.

Danny considered the idea for a moment, with the barest head nod. Victory was in Tim’s grasp now. “We could change the wingspan and nose shape of it and then widen the back fins for a more acute directional accuracy.” He offered easily. Tim blinked, that was supposed to be his line, where he would prove his superiority with the knowledge he’d already acquired. Victory, it turned out, was like a handful of sand that would, despite all efforts, spill through his fingers. “It seems easy enough.”

“Did you have any ideas?” Tim asked testingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not really, but I thought it would be cool to try one of Tesla’s ideas. Nikola Tesla’s, I mean. The one off the top of my head is the thought camera.” Danny rambled with his hands.

Tim may have admitted that he felt a bit inspired at the idea of mimicking and improving on one of Tesla’s ideas, if it hadn’t been proposed by Danny. “The thought camera?” Tim echoed incredulously, formulating the perfect eyebrow raise to show his distaste.

Danny seemed undeterred, and was instead studying the rubric Mr.Nolan had left open on the board. “Yeah, I’m not a huge fan of that one either,” He said offhandedly, “I was just spitballing.”

This would’ve been the perfect opening for Tim to intercede with the perfect idea. As a Bat, Tim of all people should know the importance of always being ready and well informed of any situation that may arise. Yet here he was, unprepared. Resiliently, Tim pulled out his phone and searched up potential suggestions. Danny peaked over to look as well.

“The wireless energy transmitter seems like a good idea. If we proportionally scale it down we could have a fully functioning model.” Tim declared victoriously to his partner, who couldn't help but be on board with his amazing idea.

Tim had already won the first battle, and the war would soon be over with Tim’s overwhelming conqueror of the first place position.

Bouncing off of Tim’s original idea, the team had already procured a rough sketch of their model, and had designated a day to gather their supplies.

Howard watched as his student’s chattering meshed into one indistinguishable sound. Howard through his past researching with other professionals in varying stages of their career, and teaching college students of various majors and life goals had become astute as discerning a person’s potential. He was aware his current students, now only between the ages of fifteen and nineteen, would not appreciate his sentiment on grading them on a scale of what he believed their personal best to be. Leading to his infamous profile through the halls of Gotham Academy.

Over his cumulative professional careers there was perhaps only a handful that Howard predicted to hold greatness. His visions always came to fruition as the sapling students of science and research once under his care, blossomed into leaders in their fields with headlining research papers under their name. And when Howard did find himself in the possessions of those saplings he made sure to nurture their growth as much as he could.

It just so happened this year Howard found himself with two.

There was one who Howard had heard whispers of in the teacher’s lounge. Tim Drake always sat in class with a bored castover look, ready with the perfect answer when tested as if he were the one with the PhD. Tim completed all his assignments with a stern perfection, always unchallenged with the material no matter how difficult his peers seemed to find it.

It only was Danny Fenton’s second year attending the Academy, and there were only a few that knew him as a student, but they were not stingy with their praises. In the first week of class Howard had found him unassuming, scribbling what Howard had assumed to be notes like his peers throughout class. He was swiftly corrected when Danny came to him, after class one day, frazzled over something in his book. Howard, always ready to help a student, welcomed him graciously. In the book Howard did not find scribbled notes of inertia and energy, but a diagram- more accurately a blueprint- of an archimedes engine applied for a re-designed drag car.

Howard watched the first spark of intrigue be kindled between the two with deep satisfaction.

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succulentsiren · 2 months

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Learn to challenge the beliefs you grew up with because not everything you’ve been taught is beneficial for you.

Most of us hear things like “Love is supposed to hurt.” or “Success only comes through struggling.” or “You have to be there for family even if they’re toxic.”

This mindset usually comes from people who’ve accepted a life of struggling and defeat.

It’s time to stop letting other people’s beliefs create your reality.

Cleanse your minds of the information that no longer serves you and create new standards that help you thrive.

S.S.

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 4 months

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Gods, I love writers so much. You're telling me I can read someone's thoughts from hundreds of years ago? That someone could teach me something, or go on a rant, or make me laugh even though we've never met? That I could touch someone else's heart, or brighten their day, or make them see things in a new way, with my words? That a part of me could live on in a book after I die, that people could still hear me speak? This is magic, we've invented goddamn magic.

#this also includes writers for tv shows and radio programs and other media!#being earnest on main today #positivity #jlrrt speaks #writing

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raineandsky · 6 months

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#73

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

tw: blood

The late shift was never particularly kind to the villain. It’s when villains are the most active—and so the heroes are more so too. The cover of night is meant to make crime easier, but the heroes are out in droves at this time and the cover of night turns out to, actually, not cover shit.

Their front door clanks shut behind them, a relieved sigh slipping from their lips. Their eyes trace down the hall—to their bedroom, hell yes—and catch their kitchen door swinging shut.

The evening’s tiredness is evaporated in a second. The villain’s hand is inside their coat on instinct, the feeling of the well-loved knife hilt in their hand a much-needed comfort as they start down the hall.

They push the door open slowly, wishing that they oiled its hinges last week. They peer inside from the safety of the hallway—there’s… nothing in there. It’s just as they left it this afternoon. Except, no, wait—

There’s a handprint on their windowsill. Shiny, still wet, and crimson red.

Invisibility is a habit by now. They glide through the kitchen quietly, their footsteps practised, their coat blending them into the gloom, to glance down at the blood staining the wood. They look outside, back in, across the kitchen. What the– this bitch has been in their fridge.

They open it, letting the light blind them momentarily. Well, there’s a lot of food they’re going to have to throw out now. Specks of blood taint most of this. They glance back, the yellowing light brightening the room and their face, and they hear a very muffled, presumably very unintentional, “shit”.

The fridge slams shut and sinks the room back into darkness. There’s a red trail trickled over the tile floor, leading straight to their pantry.

The villain adjusts their knife in their grasp, creeping towards the little cupboard. They pause outside, heaving a heavy sigh in preparation before tugging the door out and thrusting their blade into the darkness beyond.

“This is no place for a petty thief,” they say whilst their eyes adjust. It’s darker in there without the streetlamps outside invading. “I’m giving you a chance to get out before I cut you to shreds.”

Someone squeaks from inside. “P–Please don’t!” they cry, and the villain squints suspiciously. They can just see the figure of the person pressed into the back of their pantry.

They fumble for the light switch, showering the tiny room in dull light. Of all people the villain expected to rob them, well, they weren’t really expecting to see—

“[Hero]?” they demand incredulously, and the hero winces. They squeak again when the villain gets the mind to shove their knife against their throat. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

“I– I don’t!” the hero cries. “I didn’t know you lived here, I swear!”

The villain narrows their eyes disbelievingly. “So, what? You break into people’s houses now? Doesn’t sound very agency-friendly.”

The hero’s eyes nervously slip to the bloodstained fridge behind them. “I– I’m hiding.”

An admission of weakness. They’re hiding.

Sirens shriek outside. Blue and red dance merrily on the ceiling. “From what?”

“From [Superhero].”

From the superhero. The villain doesn’t doubt that they’re hiding. The hero looks terrified—though they do have a knife slowly drawing blood at their throat, they suppose. But from the superhero?

“Why?”

The hero swallows nervously. They won’t meet the villain’s eye. “I did something wrong,” they say quietly. “Really wrong. [Superhero]’s practically out for my blood now. I can’t be trusted.”

The sound that comes out of the hero is either a laugh or a sob. It’s hard to tell. “So you’re hiding from him,” the villain finishes.

The hero nods before they remember the blade resting on their skin. “Yeah.”

“And so you’re hiding… in my pantry.”

“... Yeah.”

“And you helped yourself to some of my fridge.”

The hero has the decency to flush in embarrassment. “I’ll replace it. I was desperate.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” the villain says lowly, “or throw you back into the street.”

Clearly the hero didn’t think this far. They lick their lips, their wide-eyed gaze finally meeting the suspicious squint of the villain’s. “I can– I could do something for you?”

“You dying would do me a great favour.”

The hero swallows again, and their stare turns nervously outward again. “I– I don’t know. I don’t have any of my weapons, I’m not dangerous.”

“You get in fist fights.”

“I usually lose those.”

The hero laughs, the sound taut with anxiety. The villain leans away from them slightly, letting their blade sit a little lighter on them. “I have an idea,” they say flatly.

“Yeah,” the hero says instantly.

“I need a maid.” The hero’s face falls slightly at the wording, and the villain grins ecstatically. “I have the clothes. You work on my whim, without snooping, and you can sleep on the sofa.”

“Isn’t there anything less humiliating I could do?” they ask quietly. God no, the villain thinks. The humiliation is part of the fun.

“I could let you stay in my basement,” they offer pointedly, and the hero grimaces, “if you’re so attached to the clothes you’re wearing.”

Sirens whoop outside. The villain glances at the blood trails on the floor. “I’m going to clean this up before your friends inevitably bust the door down,” they say. “We can talk business when I get rid of them. Stay in there. If I so much as hear from you, they can have you. Got it?”

The hero nods numbly. “Yeah.”

And with that, the villain flicks the light off and slams the door on them.

Cleaning is easy enough, though they’ll need to mop later—or the hero will. They turn over a few pieces of furniture, drag a few drawers open, and then they casually let themself out the front door with a giant, full backpack.

The police are exactly where they wanted them. They spot the villain halfway out of the garden.

“Thief!” one of them cries. “Stop in the name of the law!”

The villain turns on their heel and bolts for the back of the house.

This part is easy. Lose the police in the city, wait for them to clear out from their house, loop back home. They’ll never suspect that the villain lives there. God, they’d have some problems if they did.

The next part is the fun one. They have a hero to blackmail—and by god, are they going to use that to their advantage.

Next part

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #the villains housekeeper #tw blood #game jam is close to finishing lads!!#i have. not been this stressed since goddamn uni #i came in like hehe!! im a writer!!!#and im leaving panting exhausted covered in blood because ive been forced to code #i barely know how a program works. i thought a conditional was a type of love

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alloftheclassics · 1 year

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youtube

@neil-gaiman spoke with the International Jack Benny Fan Club (501c) for the Jack Benny Convention about Why He Loves Jack Benny

Thank you, Neil! Like you said, “knowing and loving Jack is a responsibility”.

#Jack Benny #Neil Gaiman #old time radio #otr #Benjamin Kubelsky #All of the classics #classics #radio #Jack Benny Show #Jack Benny Program #comedy #writing #author #writers on tumblr #writer #interview #Good Omens #Doctor Who #Thank you

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scriptwriters-network · 1 year

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Creative Writing Challenge – April

This MONTHLY challenge is for those who want to work on writing new ideas and who would like to maintain a continuous creativity flow with your writing.

Find out more here.

#creative writing #creative challenge #screenwriting #writing #write #amwriting #writer #script chat #scriptwriting #screenwriting industry #writers craft #writers block #writers programs #writer program #writers life #scriptwriters classes #writers of tumblr #scriptwriters network #screenwriters network

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starchaserdreams · 3 months

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I easily read 3 million words of fanfiction in Q1 last year and then plenty more after that, and I *still* think I probably read more of my own words of fiction than other people's over the course of the year. I read some of my stories 10-20x each between rereads for edits and rereads for comfort.

#my fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #sorry im still on this train of thought #ill be back to the regularly scheduled programming soon #writer #just writer things #fandom #reading #re-reading #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #wolfstar

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hearteyedfeelings · 6 months

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(Because apparently I can’t help myself with these two):

After Ludinus took a dive into the lava pit, the tension that was rising like the unbearable heat in the cave was gone in an instant.

Looking over at everybody Laudna takes a small sigh of relief at seeing that her friends are all okay.

But quickly the sigh gets caught in her throat as she realizes the destination they were now headed to…again.

That damned place that she can’t quite seem to get far enough away from.

Whitestone.

The de Rolos. The castle. Delilah. The dinner. The pain. The tree. Delilah. The pain. The tree. The pain. The tree. The-

No.

Not now.

Laudna’s hands rise to her hair, twirling fallen strands with a bit more force than normal. She notices Imogen looking to her in a brief moment, and she looks back, giving a slight nod, then all too quickly FCG grasps the staff and off they go.

The pain from the teleportation spell seems almost numbing as familiar thoughts begin to swirl through Laudna’s head again.

After some magical course-correction, she’s face to face with it-

Fucking Whitestone. The Sun Tree.

Cold.

The group begins to walk towards the castle, Laudna takes a small breath and Imogen whose been slowly making her way towards her quietly leans over,

“Are you alright?”

“I’m, o-kay.” The vowels seem to elongate like she isn’t sure if she believes what she’s saying.

Imogen gently grabs her hand and immediately Laudna feels the warmth, and that ice cold sensation that’s been building dims just the slightest as she feels the familiar raised skin from Imogen’s scars.

As they get closer to the castle Laudna begins to remember- but in confusing ways, seeing the city so bright and warm is clashing with the growing cold she feels in her chest. But Imogen-

Imogen is here. Imogen is next to her. Sweet, capable Imogen.

Imogen, who made her whole again. Imogen, the one who brought her back and kept her safe from Whitestone the second time. She’s here and she’s warm.

She can feel Imogen’s hand start to rub her back in big slow circles as she steps even closer to her on their walk.

The cold starts to melt even further and with one more deep breath Laudna realizes that yes, she’s stepping into this place again,

But she’s not alone, no.

Her tether, her anchor, her reason is next to her every step of the way.

#critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #a self indulgent thing that crept over my thoughts this morning #I’m not a writer but these two are apparently the exception?#not your regularly scheduled programming #ficlet

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