I feel so called out right now…

Gotta be greater than the haters, friends.

Behold, a writer’s hall of fame.

I want a wife that understands me like this.

Me. So me. I keep a voice recorder next to my bed JUST for this sort of thing. I’ve yet to use it. Bollocks!!

I can remember thinking ‘this place doesn’t feel like a home.’ The lobby of the building was barren except for a sleepy security guard who didn’t even acknowledge the slam of the door as it shut behind us and I noticed that despite the space’s expansiveness, there wasn’t any furniture. No uncomfortable sofas or coffee-stained end tables typical for most lobbies belonging to apartment buildings. Not so much as a fake plant in sight. The lighting in the corridors and the strange-smelling lift was so harsh and unforgiving on the eyes that I felt like a fly lying dead in one of those Eazyzap bug traps, still twitching from the shock of the electricity. I was almost sober by the time we got up to their apartment so when I was offered a shot of vodka I accepted it like a dehydrated dog might accept water from a puddle during a walk. It singed my throat on the way down and I had to fight not to retch from the aftertaste. 

I had met these people not even two hours before at a bar; my friends already knew them but I was a neophyte, a stranger to their many charms: Casey’s overbearing presence that infuriated me even more than the sound of his voice, so smooth that I couldn’t help but be entranced by it despite every part of me screaming that it was all a lie. Matthew’s scruffy long hair and wire frame glasses that reminded me of a book character I’d fallen in love with more times than I could even count, his shit-eating grin that made you feel like you were in on some private joke of his. Fraser’s backwards ball cap (because that’s always been a weak spot of mine) and a sadness so whole within him that I could feel it from the other side of the room, a sadness so whole that I could hear it through his contagious laugh.

Their apartment was on the top floor of the block - an alien space that felt more like being stuck in a hidden pocket of time - and one side of the kitchen was all windows that offered us a panoramic view of the London skyline. The alcohol and whatever we had smoked on the way over had gone straight to my head and staring at the view felt more like staring into a giant snow globe I’d found in one of those shitty gift shops in Leicester Square. My head was spinning in a good way and everything had this undeniable realness to it, like someone had taken a pen and given everything a bold outline. Even the floor had a life of its own. I had to sit down. I perched next to Matthew. We gazed out of the window, pointed out Tower Bridge and the London Eye and he gave me a gummy worm that wasn’t just a gummy worm. It tasted like TV static and made the glands in the side of my neck tingle and just by looking at him I knew that our souls were one in the same. 

We had one of those conversations that you can only have while intoxicated, the kind where you discuss parallel universes, protagonist theory and mental illness. Fraser told me that he did cocaine because he was addicted to it. Matthew replied matter-of-factly that he did cocaine to feel like a rockstar, and that pretty much sums up humans, don’t you think? We do things to feel like something else or just anything at all. 

That’s why I was there. Because it felt like something. 

thegreenkindofgoddess:

“breathe in this is the symphony I.allegro the pounding in your head the buzzing of the bathroom light the static in the air building rising in your blood the tidal wave in the back of your throat II. adiago hush the thought creeps in slow and sudden the cure to the world and to you III. sherzo the air rushes back and the world comes into focus hands scrambling roughly quickly gasping laughing crying or somewhere in between IV. rondo the first cut the first droplet of red so startling, so promising heart pounding its goodbye as the blood rushes swift and the curtains close breathe out This is your symphony”

—

thegreenkindofgoddess:

“the way the sunshine plays in the folds of the curtains on lazy afternoons the burst of blackberry on your tongue in the summer heat the fire in your chest with that first sip of cider in the cold winter months the laugh of a stranger caught by the wind on the dappled path the graceful droop of an orchid regal melancholy in the curves of the petals these are the moments when the dreams of the world can be glimped these are the memory of pandora’s hope that serve as my suicide note”

— i am tired

thegreenkindofgoddess:

“can you feel the earth the rumble in your chest behind your heart but deeper so much deeper. can you hear the breathe of the sky the cold whisper of wind in the clouds in your lungs feel the heartbeat of the mountains of the olde in the back of your mind the pulse of the forests in your blood, the call of green of sky and sea and land you are the child of the earth of the sun through the trees and the sweet summer breezes the flow of the creek the chatter of the world beyond”

— originalgoddess

not like other girls

was a title i coveted

but never earned.

i wrote off makeup,

i stopped talking about fairies and mermaids

to research superheroes.

i quit ballet in favor of taekwondo

but even in a plain white dobok and a brown tti,

dripping sweat and exhaustion

i was not enough.

i was vengeful in my frustration

notorious for the blood on my gloves—

we weren’t supposed to aim for the nose

but i was smaller and younger

and a good actress.

deep down i think i knew

i would never be like the girls

who weren’t like other girls,

and that made me wonder

what about other girls was so bad,

and why there were no boys

who weren’t like other boys.

i expected other girls to be what i’d seen on tv

and read in books,

but instead i was met with compliments,

kind eyes and genuine voices,

proclaiming boys were to be seen and not heard.

i learned that i was pretty

and i looked cute in pink

and the school confiscates pocketknives

but keys fit between your fingers.

i fell in love with other girls

when they took his sneer as a declaration of war,

unleashed their tongues like rabid dogs

in defense of girls they’d never spoken to

and flashed sharp grins

when their words bit hard enough

to reward them with tears.

i watched in awe

as other girls filed their nails into claws,

drove needles through their ears and noses

and lined their eyes with intimidation.

the judgement of their fathers

weighed down their bare shoulders

and adorned their short skirts

but every time he voiced it

their scissors took another inch off the bottom.

they were feral, and territorial,

they were disobedient and wanted blood,

they dressed how they wanted

and if you looked and didn’t like it

that was your problem.

i failed at not like other girls

because i met other girls

and i remembered my breath was fire

and my teeth dripped venom,

my hair was a nest of snakes

and my gaze was stone;

they knew i was a gorgon

years before i did

and now i’ve finally

become one.

creating sympathetic villains

[@/moonlit_sunflower_books on ig]

hi everyone! today’s post is about creating sympathetic villains, because let’s be honest, the antagonist is the best part of any story /hj. a sympathetic villain is essentially one whose intentions are understandable, but whose actions are not. i hope this post helps!

disclaimer: i am not a professional writer and everything here is based on personal experience and opinion. i am always open to respectful discourse and constructive criticism!

give them reasons

and i don’t necessarily mean a tragic past. give them genuinely sympathetic reasons. maybe they want to save the world by burning it down. maybe they want to wage war on the politicians that have denied them life. maybe they want to secure peace for the people in their country, if they’re a ruler. or maybe they’ve been denied and ignored their entire life and just want to be recognised.

whatever your character’s motivation, it should be something that the reader can sympathise with.

give them a past

yes, we all love characters with a tragic backstory, but don’t stop at ‘their parents were killed when they were young’ or 'their girlfriend betrayed them and now they’re a bad person’ (yes this is me attacking the shadow and bone tv show no im not sorry). any character’s backstory should have depth and reason to it.

take loki from the first avengers movie, for example. he’s a sympathetic villain because we have seen him before in thor movies and we know his relationship with his adoptive father and brother. he was constantly pushed aside and watched his mother die in front of him, neither of which could have been fun. and his relationship with thor is a really strong dynamic that makes the viewer want him to get something out of the conflict.

his past gives him context and reason and the depth of it makes him seem like a character rather than a symbol, which made it easier for the viewer to sympathise.

give them humanity

make your antagonists funny. make them awkward. make them bad at flirting. make them walk into a grocery store and not understand how the self check-out works. i understand the appeal of having an all-powerful fantastical being be the villain, but if your aim is to create a sympathetic one, it’s important that they are shown to be human because that’s what allows the reader to relate to them.

i know i’m using all marvel examples, but if you take hela from thor: ragnarok - she is undoubtedly the evil antagonist, but she’s funny, for goodness sake. also cate blanchett is gorgeous but that’s unrelated, i just had to point it out.

they are not morally gray

there is a very important difference between a morally gray character and a sympathetic villain. a sympathetic villain is one who is, undoubtedly, a Bad Character - they just have understandable motives. they do the wrong things for the (arguably) right reasons - or their reasons have been corrupted by events and/or people, causing the reader to sympathise with them.

a morally gray character, on the other hand, often has the wrong reasons and justifies them anyway. they do a combination and Good and Bad things, unlike the villain who does solely Bad things.

helene aquila from an ember in the ashes is morally gray because she makes hard decisions in the face of crises and is often on the opposite side from laia and elias. she’s arguably a good person with hard luck, and circumstance drives her to make questionable decisions that play on her mind.

the darkling, however, is a sympathetic villain, and i’m going to elaborate on this much more now.

case study: the darkling

okay before we get started: i am NOT a darkling apologist and i do not think any of his actions are excusable. but the fact that so many people on this hellsite think he’s a good person just proves how well leigh bardugo created a sympathetic villain, and i’m going to explain how i think it worked. and yes, this has shadow and bone spoilers.

the darkling is grisha, and through his lifetime he was hunted and therefore hiding and living in perpetual fear (his past). he wanted to create a safe place for the grisha to live and thought the only way they could be safe was if they were feared (his reasons). he also supposedly fell in love with alina (although his is arguable) and that could be seen as his humanity.

rule of wolves spoilers: the end of the rule of wolves where he agrees to make a sacrifice for the good of ravka also gives him some amount of humanity.

all of the above make the reader sympathise with his intentions and are probably smitten with ben barnes’ face which makes it easier. however, literally none of his actions are excusable. he manipulated teenage girls, kissed alina pretending to be mal, literally bound her to his power with an amplifier that completely eliminated her agency, created creatures that blinded his own mother and cut off one of his students’ arms, and attempted to expand a physical darkness to take over the entire world. excusable? i think not.

his initial desire for safety is what the reader sympathises with. but the darkling uses that as a jumping-off point to go completely off the rails and essentially lose any sense of boundaries or limits on even his own power, which undoubtedly makes him the villain. not a single one of his actions are excusable.

Growing up Indian 

The first time I knew of a religion other than Islam and Hinduism was when I was 11. I used to go to summer camps every summer break to put my creative side to use.

“Are you a Hindu?” asked a girl from another.
“No.” she said
“Are you a Muslim then?”
“No.” she said again
“Oh then what are you?”
“…” 

Something I tried to listen but couldn’t, or maybe never understood.
I went home the same day and asked my mother what could it have been, she told me that the girl could be a Christian, or a Sikh, a Buddhist, or a Parsi, or a Jew. That broadened my perspective of things a little bit. I grew up to find out that the human species follow different faiths, where all teach the same - love, respect and acceptance. Love towards all, respect towards all and acceptance of the existence and practice of other faiths.

I was never taught to discriminate. Neither on the basis of religion nor on caste, colour or creed. I was brought up secular. I had a normal childhood, wherein I studied in a classroom with all kinds of faiths. We’d share stories, homeworks and our lunchboxes - the food brought us closer on most occasions.
I have shared delicacies of Eid with my friends, shared gifts on Christmas, and watched fireworks on DussehraandDeepawali. I have been smeared with colours on Holi and danced around bonfire on LohriandBaisakhi. I have been to temples and mosques, gurdwaras and churches. I have tasted langar on the streets of my country. I have heard the pooja, and attended a mass, all while I knelt my knees in prayer on a Ja'namaz.

This is the country I grew up in, this is what being Indian has always meant to me. This is the fabric of my country and it’s being torn apart. I hope we find our way back to our roots - to being a secular nation. Our fight isn’t against each other - it’s against tyranny.
The government is by the people, of the people and for the people - and the government is forgetting it.