I’ve read all kinds of posts both from writers and readers lamenting about comments on fic. Authors are upset when they don’t get any, readers don’t know what kinds of comments to leave, etc. And it finally clicked in my brain why I think a lot of people don’t bother writing comments.
And this is what it boils down to:
Writers do not want praise. We just want to talk about our story.
I can’t speak for everyone obviously - but I think the majority of writers don’t care so much for the “omg you’re a brilliant writer!!” comments as much as we just want to hear your thoughts on the story. Even if it’s just your thoughts as you’re reading of “oooh x happened! I can’t believe y said this! What’s going to happen now that z has happened?!” We literally just want to talk about what we’ve written like you would with a friend about a tv show. We’re not out here demanding praise like some entitled narcissist.
While praising our writing skills or writing style is appreciated, it doesn’t need to be said on every fic and every chapter that you read. If you regularly comment on someone’s work that’s telling enough that you like our technique. Readers shouldn’t feel pressured to have to praise a writer’s abilities every time they want to comment.
In the grand scheme of things, talking about the fic/chapter is actually more helpful to us writers instead of spewing praise. It’s the same with artwork. As nice as it is that people tell me “wow your art is so pretty!” it’s a LOT more useful to me to get comments like “I love their expressions!” or “the lighting on this is gorgeous!” because then I know WHAT people are liking about it. If no one ever comments on my backgrounds, I now know what to improve. If most people comment on liking the expressions, I now know the strong points of my art and can use it to my advantage to make even better art in the future.
The same goes for fic. If multiple people tell me they liked a certain part of the story I now know that things similar to that are a hit. It’s feedback I can use to improve the story and give my readers more of what they want. Without that I have no idea what they like about the fic.
Talking with a writer about their story also gives them inspiration!! Nothing gets us more in the mood to work on a fic than to have people wanting to talk about it. A lot of times just talking about one of my fics with someone will give me that push to continue working on it. Getting a comment that just says “great chapter” or “you’re a great writer” doesn’t do much to motivate us to continue that particular fic. But if you talk about the story and the characters it gives us motivation to continue working on it, may even give us ideas for future chapters. I would hope that those of you with “comment anxiety” find this approach so much easier than trying to praise the writer every time you read.
So that fic the author hasn’t updated in forever that you’re dying to read? Talk to them about the fic and the elements of the story! It will make the writer want to talk to you about it and will get their mind thinking about it, hopefully inspiring them to continue where they left off. Fics that are left in silence are more likely to be abandoned or even deleted because nothing feels worse than putting your heart into a story to have no one say anything about it.
TLDR; Writers do not want praise, we just want to talk with our readers about the story itself, and these are the kinds of comments that inspire us to keep writing more.
The flowers were blooming on the trees; shades of pink, white, and lilac.
Shadows among the petals, the three kunoichi examined the approaching enemy lines across the expanse of the honey hues streaming to the forest floor.
Faces masked they were three drops of nightmare black in the warm perfume of the spring day.
“How many?” Ino’s voice came flat from behind the dark of the cloth obscuring her face.
“Only ten.” Hinata replied.
“Five spread in key entry points, six within the walls, a handful more patrolling the corridors.” She paused while Sakura cracked her knuckles, muscles rippling smooth as a predator.
There was another fluttering chakra, too distant to be clear but approaching quickly at the edges of Hinata’s vision. It was theoretically too far to be a problem. Hinata frowned all the same.
Ahead of them the enemy shinobi unsheathed blade, kunai, and shuriken though she noted some hands shook with uncertainty before the three black pits they faced.
“Aw,” Sakura lifted her chin in approval, her voice stained with a smirk, “They know to be wary.”
“They know to wet their pants,” Ino snorted.
Hinata shifted into fighting stance.
“Ready?” Sakura rolled a shoulder until it cracked, digging her heel into the earth for traction.
“Born that way,” Ino touched her hands together and the blood that sprayed into the warm spring air joined the petals in the trees raining down with the breeze.
***
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Security was lax, the shinobi were young, untested, badly trained and the special ops unit Konoha had sent was known for it’s 95% success rate. The other five percent Sakura blamed wholly on that one time Ino drank too much before a mission only to share the hangover headache with the rest of her team when she wobbled on her part of the plan.
Ninety five percent, that was by and large an undeniable success for an Anbu team. It would as a rule assuage the fears of most families to have their loved ones on a team so capable and strong.
And yet…
“You broke his nose.”
Sakura clicked off the pen light, her grin ferocious even in the sudden dimness. She crouched beside Sasuke sitting irritable and bruise eyed at the base of the tree.
Night had come, brilliant white moon and sparkling stars above the pines of their camp. Hinata did not bother telling Sakura she had already known this. She had felt the crunch against her fist on impact and nearly thrown up at the horror of realizing who exactly was on the receiving end.
Sasuke had no qualms snarling for them both.
“We knew that.”
“I just wanted to say it outloud again.” Sakura retorted brightly, rising so Ino could lean on her shoulder. “You know, so we could all enjoy the knowledge together once more.”
“Tch,” Sasuke began, dragging in a breath that only made the two kunoichi giggle. Hinata interrupted before anyone could say more.
“Let me speak with him a moment, yes?” She didn’t remove her glowing gaze from Sasuke even when he glared back, smirk playing about his lips. Polite to a fault, Hinata bit out, “Please.”
An exchange of bemused expressions occurred between her friends and then they departed. Sakura offered Sasuke a pat on the shoulder, Ino a wink and an antagonizing blown kiss.
He scoffed at them both, determined to ignore the fear that he might appear petulant eating at his insides.
The silence of the woods enveloped them until Hinata let her crossed arms drop from around her middle with a sigh.
“What?” Sasuke snapped. Perhaps he wasn’t petulant, perhaps he was… indignant. Yes, he preferred that word immeasurably more.
Hinata did not appear to get the memo that petulance had been traded for indignance. In fact, she appeared to think indigance was hers to use in their argument. He considered telling her of how he had dibs then re-evaluated this when she placed her hands on her hips reminiscent of his mother, Sakura and even Hanabi.
“Did you just ask me what?” she blinked… indignantly. Sasuke made a valiant effort not to roll his eyes…petulantly.
“I did.”
“Uchiha-san.”
He winced at the last name andthe honorific.
Shit.
“Please tell me you weren’t in the proximity of a classified Anbu mission for the express purpose of-” she paused and he had the intelligence and self preservation to wait, “- babysittingyour wife.”
Sasuke gave himself leave to frown, an expression that most men would quail to face. Hinata only frowned back, jaw clenched as she waited.
“Well,” he began, trying for a lie.
Hinata needed only to hear that single word to gasp out in dismay, turning with her face buried in her hands towards the woods.
It might have looked like mourning or sadness or defeat to someone else but Sasuke Uchiha was a great scholar of all things Hyuuga- or rather, Hinata.
He knew a battle on the wind when he saw one.
“Hinata-”
“We have talkedabout this!”
“Yes, but-”
“-why is it that-”
“-never agreed to just sit at home and-”
“-so unprofessional and wrong and Naruto is going to be so upset-”
“Do not bring him into this!”
“-and where are the kids? Where did you-”
“-can’t believe you would think they are anywhere other than your Father’s eating copious amounts of sugar and-”
“You have to trustme!”
This was new territory. Hinata did not yell. She spoke, clipped meticulous sentences were the cutting edge of her weaponry, but yelling…
Sasuke stared.
“I do trust you.”
“No.” This was dangerously close to being called a liar and he felt himself bristle even as she hurried to continue.
“Trust would be you not following me on my missions like I am some child to be defended when I am a kunoichi in my own right. I am strong enough. I am notweak and-”
Hinata started as he dragged her into his arms, squeezing the breath and the flood of tears beneath her eyelids out.
“Yes.” He breathed into her ear, soft as the midnight breeze. “Yes, you’re strong enough. I know this. Hinata, I knowthis.”
Sniffling she pushed her face into the warm space between his shoulder and neck, the safest most comfortable home she had ever found.
“Then why are you here?”
Sasuke sighed from deep in his chest, a grumble rumbling from his sternum through to Hinata’s own.
That was a complex question. The answer involved nightmares that still plagued him. Nightmares of dying mothers and fathers and brothers, of horrors too numerous to keep track of, horrors she knew about and which she hoped he was strong enough to face with her at his side.
And that was the tricky part, especially when she was off somewhere else, mission or no.
“I was not in an enemy base trying to keep you safe.”
“Oh?” Hinata considered this, listening for a lie and hearing none.
“No.”
“So then?”
It had happened quickly. There were multiple incoming assaults in the half dark. The smell of moist earth, blood and decay numbed the senses. Their team had been working together like a well oiled machine covering openings, deflecting knife points, utilizing their skills in an intricate precise deadly dance.
Hinata’s gaze had swept past a corner, catching only for a millisecond the flare of powerful (if strangely familiar) chakra too close to Ino’s blind side.
The split second decision to punch the threat (also known as her husband) straight in the face had happened too quickly to stop.
Sasuke sighed again, mumbling something into her hair.
Hinata blinked at the darkness of the trees and the resin scented breeze that ruffled them.
“…what?”
“Ugh,” Sasuke groaned, “I… I never get to see you in battle. And it’s… I… I like to because it…you’re- it’s very attractive and I-”
Hinata snapped back to look at him, eyes wide as saucers. Sasuke made a point not to look at her face.
“That’s not all though! I can’t sleep particularly well when you’re gone and-”, he continued frantically as though the more that poured out of his mouth the further downstream his first confession would be swept, “-the children wantedto go to your Father’s! Whining about seeing Hanabi and you knowwhat she is like when you’re not there and I was going to be bored anyway and I… I missed you and I might- well if- if I-“ he stopped, feeling as she pulled a step back, hands pressed over her mouth in amazement.
He wasn’t too surprised. He had probably spoken more in that one minute than he had in their first year of dating. Still, with resigned dismay he sighed.
“What?”
“You came all the way out here…” Hinata began slowly, clearly flummoxed, “…to ogleme?”
Sasuke flinched as though she had slapped him. Not a big leap considering his recent broken nose.
“Excuse me.” He snapped. “I do not ogle.”
Jiraiya ogled. Kakashi ogled.
Still, his face was rapidly burning up. Hinata’s eyes only got wider.
“You did!”
“Appreciating your own wife’s…a…assets when she is doing something strenuous is notogling. It-”
Whatever feeble defense he had intended to patch together died in his throat as she shoved him against the tree and promptly kissed him square on the mouth.
They slid or fell or did some disgraceful combo of the two until Sasuke was sitting with Hinata straddling his lap unsure how he had managed to turn the whole situation around but mouth too busy to ask any sort of question.
“Ahem!” They heard from somewhere behind the tree. “I just want to remind you both that one of you has recently sustained a fracture in their face which in case you… you know…”
“In case you plan on doing some aggressive snogging!” Ino cut in, “Come on, Sakura let the man reap his reward in peace!”
Hinata paused, breathless with the taste of him lingering on her tongue, brows raised in question. “Am I hurting you?”
“It’s time youtrustme.” he snapped, dragging her smiling mouth back to him. “I’ll tell you if I ever want to stop.”
