My art, my fiction *sparkles* *sparkles*
Last chapter is scheduled for release tomorrow.
That makes it 97,634 words in completion.
♦ ♦ ♦
Queen of the Sun is a fantasy adventure inspired by Sumerian, Greek, and German folklore. Heavy emphasis on underworld myths.
The universe in this series takes inspiration from astrology. I don’t know if it can be spotted, it’s largely spotted in their personality traits.
♦ ♦ ♦
Read it here << It’s on royal road, I’m thinking of publishing elsewhere like wattpad? maybe where else sounds good..
Think I could start posting some of my stories on here.
So...what do y’all like to write?
Reblog if you appreciate the writers that take the time to respond to your comments
23 notes · View notes
All you could do was laugh.
What other response could you have after seeing death run rampant through your world? The old lady buried one morning when the sun felt harsh and new, then her tiny grandchild ready to be buried soon before the sun set heavy and ripe that very same day. Watching as the people took over the streets howling right in the open, drowning out everything else in their grief. Then watching as those same people burnt down the walls of all the lives around them, smashed the whole world to rubble under the stampede of thousands of charging feet, when all that unanswered grief of theirs turned into righteous rage.
What more was there to do than sit back and laugh at them?
I had warned them. As had many others before me, and after me. We were silenced, all of us. Told we were being too negative for their comfort. Told we shouldn't tell them of the open dangers they faced, unless we gave them the choice to run from such uncomfortable topics beforehand. We, the ones who could see the dangers, had been screaming our warnings at these people for years. We who had already been dying had been begging this blind public for that justice they loved dearly for so very long now. Our suffering had not mattered to these people who thought of themselves as Good People. Where was all of that elitist high ground they once waved above us beggars? Above those of us who had all been denied the basics of human life; and yet we all ended up watching them crumble at our feet for so much less than we had already survived.
We could do nothing but laugh. Throw our heads back and shake from the gasping breathing that came with the horrid and hysterical laughter of those who had been pushed too far for too long. We the people who have only just realized that the others who put us there always knew that our suffering was the worst possible thing anyone could live through. Those awful Good People had let us all suffer while knowing these things; simply because they couldn't care less to act on helping others if they couldn't get something for themselves out of it. Why did such people still dare call themselves "good" to our faces?
We laugh as they fall at our feet, suffering too, in all the ways they looked away from dismissively when that suffering was in our lives once.
We laugh as they bleed out in front of us, blood pooling in a dark river that twists with whirpools of tears, and the many empty, begging promises of desperate human beings trying to avoid the consequences of their own misdeeds brought to their feet.
We laugh as they call us evil, for those moments are the only truly humorous times we still have in our lives, after all this madness.
Because they don't realize they lost that right to feel morally superior to me so very long ago.
We no longer see a human being in our own reflection these days.
We no longer want to.
For all those humans we have seen walking through our life are not what we wish to ever see ourselves become.
The cruel actions those humans who call themselves good take when they simply feel justified in destroying everything they find distasteful are not those we seek to emulate.
So, we will destroy every last human being, and the destructive despair they drag around them like the chaotic wake behind a great storm.
I am perfectly fine being the grinning villain these days.
For if such beings as humans call me evil, then I must be doing so very well as a person.
Isn't that funny?
Just absolutely hilarious?
I see humans, but no humanity.
All you can do is laugh.
[Just a Random Writer in the Electronic Void. Don't mind me. I just got bored. Sorry about the rough copy /Edit: Went back and edited for spelling and grammar because it bugged me, no longer a rough copy/. Not sorry about the chills. Villains are such an interesting topic. Any of us could be one to somebody else. Enjoy this one, or don't. Not exactly my best work after all. Guess I should just laugh it off, huh?]
This right here is copypasta from my YouTube commentary. The video was a wonderful VillainCore playlist, titled "i see humans but no humanity: a villain playlist", posted by username "cupid". (Quote marks are mine. I sincerely apologize for not linking it here. I like giving credit to the creators, but I have no clue how to link that through my phone app here. Sorry!)
I designed this for the authors notes to be at the end, to increase the impact of the writing. In commentary style story posts, putting the authors note at the top deters people from reading by breaking that story immersion. If you put those authors notes at the end of the comment-story you are writing? You get more readership, because the hook for your story can do it's job properly. That's an important tip I recommend you keep in mind if you post stories in places like commentary or reply sections. Just make sure your hook strikes well!
Anyway? Because this was designed for that hook to hit first? I do apologize for having to drop my copypasta without context. It is what it is.
Before I'm done? I would like to make another more personal apology. Someone accused me of "humble-bragging" after the original note to this. I had no idea what that meant. I looked it up. Honestly? I was appalled that they thought that, and confused. When I brag I'm not subtle about it! I also wasn't sure why they would think anyone would over just what I wrote there. I asked some friends. Turns out? My writing is better than I thought it was. I know I'm good, but I didn't think a quick short story like this, done in an hour could be well written for me. I was corrected on something. My standards for excellence were significantly higher for myself than they were for my readers. So, what I legitimately thought wasn't good enough, everyone else thought was me humble-bragging.
I felt the need to apologize for this. I didn't want to alter my original post, for personal reasons. But I want to apologize now, before anyone says I'm doing that. I wasn't, but I'm still struggling to wrap my head around the fact that I'm not just a good writer. I'm a writer who is apparently, on occasion, so good at what they do that they make people think I must be full of crap if I say I don't believe I did well.
Do you know how hard that is to accept?! I'm freaking out. My image of myself does NOT match with that! Even if I was confident about being a good writer, this is still a shock. I'm working on it. It's just taking me a while.
So, on top of my writing tip today?
Take this to heart.
Just because you think you aren't good enough yet, doesn't mean you aren't great already.
Your lackluster effort, just might be a high quality piece in others eyes.
Look at your stuff through some of your biggest supporters eyes at some point.
It could be the best thing you will ever do for your self-confidence.
I hope you all have a weird and wonderful day from here.
So, my phone has been a dead, barely useful lump for months. I just got it replaced, and let's hope that means I get onto my social media apps now.
I can finally try to get back to the updates here! Achievement!
Also been working really hard on my writing. Sort of. Massive writer's block. Lucky for me? I finally figured out what was blocking me! Unfortunately? It's the main character. The entire character has to be different in an integral way for them to work for my story. I need to rewrite everything I have so far to fix that. So very much to fix.
Well then. Problem solved.
New problem arrives.
Hello, Procrastination! My old rival. Why can you not leave me be?
not me making a medieval village in minecraft with my friend and writing lore and a story for it
1 note · View note
Am I taking this too seriously or not seriously enough?
Should I start over if this isn't going anywhere or keep trying until it does?
Is this one word the right one or should I change it for this word, which has a slightly different connotation?
Would this character really say that in this situation or is this just the version of this character that I have in my head???
Is this the right word count for this story or should I write more? Less?????
Will this sentence have the effect I want or is it completely necessary?!?
WHY DOESN'T IT MAKE SENSE? I WROTE THE DANG THING!
I think about those scenes, where the music is playing and the dialogue is silent. How the camera pans to the characters laughing, being the happiest they’ve ever been in the entire movie, but not a single word is loud enough for you to actually hear what they are saying. It seems genuine. It feels genuine. And you believe it because it is.
How would that play out in our day-to-day life? There is no music playing. Just our hearts beating in the background. Getting louder and louder, echoing in familiarity. Is that the background symphony of our own cathartic scenes?
I sometimes think we recognize these moments concurrently to them playing. Like a spectator watching characters speak, laugh and feel on Live TV. And through the glass separating us, we relate to them to an extent. Yes, we are the characters. But are we, really? Do we remember memories as snippets that happened to us or to the avatar we play as?
Maybe it is an individual experience.
There is the Me on screen and the Me watching. I don't know which one is real. I don't remember what was said in those instances, just the the music in the background, beating of my heart, and the exhilaration of having lost time for a few hours with people who feel it too.
Circling back to those scenes in the movie; Is it so important to know what was said, or is knowing that it was enough to put a smile on their faces enough for you too?
1 note · View note
Any day is a good day to start over.
I’d like to be successful enough to hire someone to sit by my desk when I’m supposed to be writing and poke me with a stick when I get off task
1 note · View note
Perhaps, being patient with you is the softest kind of love that I can offer. Allowing you space to fuck up and learn from said fuck up might be what makes you feel truly loved. Afterall, who am I to think of you as less deserving because of a mistake? I think that loving someone means allowing them to be human. I think that love looks like two people that try; try to be better, try to forgive, try to learn, try to unlearn; try to understand.
See, I think love looks more like trying than perfection. Sometimes love even looks like boundaries, we must never forget boundaries. But most importantly, despite all, we should keep in mind that love never looks the same for any two couples. Just no two people are the same, no two stories are the same. I think that should explain why Theodore Roosevelt said that comparison is the thief of joy.
1 note · View note
Oggi fuori il IV capitolo di "Storie della buonanotte per palle da basket".
Se vi va andate a dare un'occhiata al mio profilo Wattpad, @Gaia_Fidanza e lasciate una stellina o un commento.✨✨
Sul profilo trovate anche altri due miniracconti e altre cosine carine🤍🤍
Person A: “Sometimes I just want to get drunk and fuck a stranger.”
Person B: “Would you settle for your husband?”
Person A: “Settle? I thought that’s why I have a husband.”
Person B: “Show me.”
4 notes · View notes
When I look
In the mirror
Who am I
Gay, straight, trans,
Pan, or bi
Why is this world
So critical of who
You wanna love
When it's up to
The man above
Our world is
Full of hate
Making us take
Detours of our fate
Why can't we just
Accept one another
Stop ridiculing us
On who we choose
As our lovers
We can't help
Our heart's desire
When we find someone
To put out the fire
Love should be accepted
In all pairs of eyes
Instead of being
Forced to always hide
I'm going to love
Whomever I feel like
No matter who my
Soul picks up hitchhiking
Love shouldn't be a crime
For in this life you
Aren't given much time
Find your ride or die
Nobody should try
To control your decisions
There should be
Follow your ambitions
I ask again
Who am I
Look in the mirror
You're free to decide
To be as free
Like a butterfly
Hey everyone! I’m Syd— a young, unapologetically queer author looking to rub my nasty little paws all over the mainstream CanLit scene. You are standing at the precipice of true disaster if you keep scrolling, because my process is messy as hell. Stay a while?
I'm in my early twenties, I use she/they pronouns, and I am very, very queer. I'm just finishing up a (non writing related) degree before I attempt to fully jump off into my creative endeavors. I'm about three quarters of the way through my debut novel, and I'm doing freelance writing in the mean time in order to boost my resume. I also write some fanfiction from time to time but it's mostly for pretty obscure fandoms and more often than not, it isn't something I want to be associated with my professional career, so I will not be linking my AO3 on here. If you manage to find it without me, though, hell yeah baby! Hope you like it. And despite my super stuffy introduction, I'm a pretty big jackass. Be warned, it might come across.
My preferred genres are horror and mystery so please be aware that I may post things on this blog that match up with that. That being said, I'm also not planning on posting any nasty ass Silent Hill monsters or anything like that-- I may enjoy horror, but I like to keep it easy breezy. I'm also a huge fan of romance and slice of life! And above all, all of my novels feature explicit queer content of some kind-- as a young reader, I was tired of all the queer novels that centered explicitly around being queer and featured no other subject matter, and I'm here to change that.
I do take writing commissions! Contact me if you're interested.
I'm also an artist, and I might post some art of my characters or other people's characters on here from time to time!
I'm from Northern Ontario hick-town. Gross, I know. Canadian, eww, Frenchy.
Letters to Basil -- Local animal attacks in small-town New England are causing an uproar, and at the center of it all, a new-in-town college student named Marlow finds herself involved. Her attempts at escaping her nasty fate with the law only seem to be pulling her deeper into trouble.
Last Stop on Solomon Street -- ostracized journalist Claude Abney gets the opportunity of a lifetime when he's called away from his failing career in New York to resurrect a cold case in the deep South. Once he gets there, though, he comes to realize just how deep the roots of crime go.
3 notes · View notes
Me muero de miedo, todos los días de mi vida, desde que tengo memoria, siento que mi corazón late muy fuerte con cada pequeño pensamiento.
Siempre que pienso en mis problemas cotidianos llega ese nudo al estómago mis hombros se contraen y se tensan.
Cuando tengo miedo, siento que muero, no puedo respirar, mi boca se seca y empiezo a llorar.
happy friday! the end of the week means the start of a new chapter of my latest mystery novel...🔎✨
read now for free!
1 note · View note
seek me. i am the vessel I am the clay pot the keeper of sweet midnight secrets-
water me. I am the summer crop the winter rain the damp earth beneath your feet-
drink from me. i am the morning sunlight the evening dewfall i am liquid love-
wake up to me.
i taste like lightening and my skin smells of your deepest darkest desire.
1 note · View note
. . . . #write #writing #writerslife #wordsmith #wordporn #author #writer #words #writers #wordsbyme #writersofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CNu9zErHXg0/?igshid=kgxz0jw58smj