#writers
every writer: i love my characters so much, they’re my babies & i would do anything for them, absolute sweethearts
also every writer: that one dies, and that one goes through fire and brimstone, and that one gets abandoned and lives through his worst nightmares, and that one loses everything he’s ever loved, and-
Y'all, you’d better believe that if I’m sharing my story with you, I’m showing you a piece of my heart and soul.
You heard me. Write it.
Ah, yeah.
Um, excuse me, it’s all about building character (pun intended, but seriously.)
I can’t tell you how often this happens. Darn characters.
when you’re out and suddenly get a huge burst of inspo for a wip that you haven’t touched in a year, but all your material is at home, so you’re just stuck making pintrest boards and playlists
“What’s your super power?”
“Putting up with heroes’ shit, my guy.” Despite the claim, he looked incredibly relaxed, stretched out across the couch, basking in the sun, feet propped up on the arm.
“I’m a girl.” She muttered in reply, folding her arms across her chest. No one else was paying attention to them, all absorbed in whatever board games, card games, computer games they were doing.
He opened his eyes and blinked up at her, smiling crookedly. “So you are.” He swung his legs around, leaving a space and patted it, “sit down kid, c’mon.”
Carefully, she sunk down, brushing her skirt under her legs like she had always seen the girls at school do. It was still an odd feeling, loose fabric brushing against the back of her legs, but one that raised a bubbly happy feeling in her chest.
“Ya new?” The guy asked, resettling himself to return to basking in the sun, despite her presence.
“Yeah. I just… yeah, today.”
He peered at her through half-closed eye lids. “You don’t have to share what happened to you, but know that everyone here has a sob story and we get it.”
“Thanks.”
“So, what’s yours?”
“What?”
“Super power, kid, keep up.” He softened the harsher words with a smile, soft and crinkled around his eyes.
“Oh,” the immediate response was to deny, no. No super powers here, nothing of note, but it was safe here, and she’d already asked him the question…
“Hey,” he leaned forwards again, catching her eye, “you don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to tell anyone anything if you don’t want to.”
“Won’t they get mad?” She hated how small her voice came out, pathetic and begging for reassurance.
He shook his head. “No, like I said, we’ve all got sob stories. No one ends up here if they grew up confident in themselves and their abilities.”
“It’s probability bending.”
He leaned back again, leaving her the space to let out a shuddering breath. She’d never said it out loud before, never felt comfortable enough to express what she’d always known, really.
“That’s pretty cool.”
Against her will, her head snapped around to look at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard that one before. You’re gonna need a badass name to go with it.”
“My parents called me…” she paused, wondering how much this man could accept, “it was a boy’s name.”
“Ew.”
His deadpan startled a laugh out of her, one that she went to catch, shove back into her mouth when he caught her wrist gently and lowered it.
“Always let your laughter out, ok?”
“Ok.”
“How’s about Coin? For your name?”
“Coin.” She rolled the name around in her mouth, a bright sound, it remined her of the sound of one hitting the ground, bouncing on concrete.
“Y’know, because you can control which side they land on.” He paused. “Probably. I mean, probability.”
She smiled at the floor. “I’d say the probability on that is high.”
He laughed, easing himself out of the chair. “C’mon, let’s go hijack their card game, see if you can help us win.”
Based on the prompt in bold by @givethispromptatry
The New Word to Describe the Life of a Writer
American Politicians spend too much time raising money. They don’t have time to make good policy, or to care how it affects us.
If I want to spend more time writing, I am going to have to figure out how to sell my book, but if I spend my time selling it, I won’t have time to write. One of the things I like to do is make up new words. There are a few in my book. Today I want to introduce you…
No pretendas acabar con mi depresión diciéndome que no esté triste, no es tristeza.
mmmm….hard disagree…ish
i wrote a song about ghost pirates ☠️
youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SarGiFkbpFo
I WROTE A SONG called “Moonlight”!
The full song’s file is too big, so I’ll put the link below (I promise you the ending will be the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard in your whole life).
The holy link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1l_x-3DrUc
I havent havent made anything Ive like in so long I’m considering making a mini series about the characters from when I was twelve.
In life, there are no winners or losers. It’s about the believers and non believers.
hello good people, we have a few of the Writer kit #9 left, and we are shipping for holidays until Tuesday Dec 17- here is a new code for $5 off that you can use at check out: HAPPYHOLIDAYS2019
Post link
No joke! Only two days remain until we close our applications!
Artists: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/11HqJ0Eubf-LC1ICcoQFNfGPG8aCbE0N-mtCfW_gaH68/edit
Merch Artists: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1V34KD6OT4F_x-VqOgSMDh0oi4JOwUQVS8uhwBjEJINc/edit
Writers: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1ku25JOj6VsBTdh9x3tW3rTxLzp8oeyfJ0-V4wF5Cvjk/edit
Misc/Others: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1rc3n1rCPie4Fa4xwyKV4x0DGgMLjbQgEdoN_A0CcfIs/edit
