Chris or just C! Rom-com writer, plant enthusiast, general menace. Any pronouns. On this blog, I post...
Updates about my writing projects
Writing ask games, questions, and prompts for others to reblog
Reblogs of others’ writing
General silliness
Projects
IT’S IN THE CARDS, an adult rom-com with speculative elements about a fake psychic who hires a real psychic to do palm readings at their metaphysical shop. Complete: on submission!
AUGUST ON REPEAT, an adult rom-com with speculative elements about a birthday wish gone wrong that sends a person into a time-loop, which can only be ended by successfully navigating a job interview...without getting distracted by using the loops to romance their neighbor instead. Currently being revised.
Secret Third Thing, will be announced once August is out of my hands 🐶🔥
Old Projects:
UNDER NO ILLUSIONS, a YA contemporary fantasy rom-com in which two witches take a road trip to find the influencer who cursed them. Being scrapped for parts
Your characters are having a backyard barbecue (or outside cooking-themed get-together equivalent.) Who’s cooking? Who’s ready to eat? Who’s waving away smoke and swatting bugs, wishing they could be inside?
Ft Wil trying to check in on Kai who is grieving and Kai putting up a fight about it. Unfortunately for him, he's met his match in stubbornness of not being able to mind his own goddamn business
"Why not?" Wil asked. Kai slowly turned his head towards Wil, a fire dancing in his irises. Wil almost snorted. As if he hadn't seen that fire before. Wil straightened his back, refusing to be cowed. Two could play at this game.
"Because." Kai spat out the word. "I don't want to."
"Why?" Wil said in an even voice and head tilted.
Kai threw his hands up in the air. "Do I have to provide you a reason? I just don't want to. And—" Kai rolled his eyes, mumbled something Arbian under his breath that Wil didn't understand but sounded like a curse word he hadn't learned yet, and reached for his brownie again. Wil expected him to eat it, but he started tearing it up. Oh, dear. "Forget about it. I just don't want to talk about her. Good or bad memories. That's all."
Falling into a very familiar routine, Wil stood up and marched up towards Kai and snatched his plate. Kai's mouth dropped open, somehow shocked at Wil's boldness. As if he hadn't done a hundred bold things already. "You're not being fair, Kai."
Kai pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes. It's not fair that I don't want to talk about my cousin." He lowered his hand and glared at Wil with such ferocity, it was almost funny. Kai was going to learn he had dealt with glares like that for a long time, and at this point they were almost humorous. "Kid, come to Arbia and you'll learn the real meaning of unfair."
"My bad. I forgot it was totally fair that I'm being bullied for liking men and women. I'm sure it's only the Arbians who have an unfair government."
Kai opened his mouth, then pinched it shut with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that."
"And because I'm a kind, nice, and considerate friend I'll let it slide." Wil narrowed his vision. He jabbed Kai's shoulder with his finger, which earned a frown nearly akin to a pout. Wil smirked. He was getting warmer to breaking Kai down in a little bit of honesty. "You've spent the entire day helping me, and any time I try to help you, you push it away. What was that you said earlier to the princes?" Wil momentarily switched back to Azurian. "'He's obviously not doing well.'" Sliding back into Viran and with another spiteful jab, Wil added, "Look in the mirror, big guy. I think I'm losing track of the amount of times you've had a fit." Kai turned a feverish red, and Wil hastily added, "And I'm not blaming you for it, but quite obviously you're not doing well. In fact, I'd say you're doing nothing short of shitty."
"Fine, I'm doing shitty. I still don't want to talk about it. Happy?" Kai asked in the driest of tones. He picked at his fingernails, the way he did with his prince earlier, and it made Wil want to rattle him. He nearly understood Prince Azrail in that moment. Except, Wil liked to think he had a lot more class. And if he didn't have class, then he was wholly justified while the spoiled prince was not.
In a burst of frustration at Kai's forced nonchalance, a wicked idea popped in Wil's mind. He was thinking about this all wrong. Why should he take care of it?
He ought to set Kai up with Rikki. Because only someone so ridiculously stubborn could break through the other. Rikki and Kai could be bullheaded with each other, while Wil sat back and relaxed, after months of dealing with the same bullshit. And he would laugh, and laugh, and laugh each time they complained about the other and their complete and utter inability to accept friendship.
Wil forced a smile onto his face. He wasn't going to explode at Kai for Rikki's sins. He was better than that, and it sounded like something the prince would do. Unlike some people, Wil had morals. He was helping the boy. Forcibly. Because ancestors and Elliot and Gifted forbid Rikki and Kai to take a gentle hand. With a slight bite in his voice, if only to see how the boy would react, Wil said, "No, Kai-Kai, I'm not happy."
Kai growled. "What did I say—"
"Ah ha!" Wil wagged a finger in his face like he caught Kai doing something naughty. And it was really naughty to give up everything for a stranger and then receive nothing in return. Kai swatted his finger away with such force it actually hurt. Once again, he was not cowed. "This is what I mean. You can't accept affection, it's like you're allergic to it."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Kai spat.
"Really? Do I? Because I happen to know the type. Very well."
"Go deal with Rikki then, and I'll take care of myself. How many times do I have to tell you and everyone else I have it under control? Everything is under control, and—"
Wil barked out a laugh and Kai crossed his arms at his new friend's amusement. That was the funniest joke Wil heard in months, scratch that, years. He wasn't even sure Rikki was that bold. She would have given up on having composure around the second or third fit.
"It's not funny."
"You're right, Kai. It's really not funny. I laugh because I don't even think Rikki would lie so boldly. Before you go off and choke for someone rightfully showing concern, hear me out."
I'm instituting a new policy of "if I can't easily read your crusty scanned PDF then I'm sending it back to you, telling you to get your shit together and save your .docx as .pdf, and causing snakes to manifest inside your house"
this but also if you are in accounting and you have an Excel file please do not save it as a PDF or take a screenshot of it and then paste it into another Excel file
Good afternoon to everyone in the notes having a horrible time! Y'all are fighting demons I never knew existed!! I think every person that makes you do stupid time wasting shit like this because they refuse to learn basic computer literacy should be fired!!
Rubber duck* about a writing problem you’re having. Is it a writer’s block situation? A plot point that isn’t sitting quite right? Something sideways with your characters, your setting, your themes?
*The term "rubber ducking" comes from when someone explains code to an inanimate object (like a rubber duck) to identify problems in it. In other words, explaining your problem to someone helps you identify what's wrong—and then fix it
I took a long break from my WIP to get ready for an artist alley event, and now I finally have time to get back into it but I feel like I might have to start over again because I was in a weird spot with it.
I'm realizing that this first book is going to work better if I center it more on my orc prince K'arik, but currently it opens up on a gnomish woman named Evarin. The plot right now at the start of the book is that K'arik's grandfather is dying and has asked Evarin to aid his passing. She's a medical singer (magic healer), and she's fluent in the language used for magic because K'arik's grandfather was her personal mentor in that tongue. She's also K'arik's third cousin, because her grandmother was his grandfather's cousin.
There's a whole family history thing there was her grandmother was banished from the clan after taking a gnomish lover (it's more complicated than that but this is the nutshell version) and while K'arik's grandfather later reversed the banishment and has opened his arms to her descendants, none of them have actually taken the offer to join the orc clan as official members. Evarin and her half orc mother are the closest to the orcs, but they hesitate to join the clan. So one reason this old man is asking Evarin to be the one to aid in his death is because he still feels like he owes a deep life debt to her family for the banishment of her grandmother.
Evarin is also a trans woman and she's got the skills to be a head chorist, but she keeps getting push back because of her age and her part orc ancestry and the fact that she's trans (there is a whole thing about women, especially mothers, being seen as inherently better at vocal magic than anyone else). And this puts her into a really great narrative parallel with K'arik actually!
K'arik is a prince, but he's actually the second son in his family and he's also deaf (and aroace). So while he knows that he has done all he can and more to become a good leader, there are people even within his own family who don't think he should be given such an important leadership role. In particular, his uncle who is the eldest of the family but was sent north to marry into another clan for diplomatic reasons. There's a lot of tension there. K'arik and his older brother are also trying to use their inherited power to set up a better council within the clan, opening it up to a wider variety of potential leaders rather than continuing to rely on family ties. They know their own family has produced as many tyrants as heroes, and they'd like to end that cycle.
Evarin is also trying to change traditions, because the head chorist of the local gnomish health clinic is really dang stubborn about hiring new singers. Since gnomes and orcs use the same language for vocal magic, Evarin thinks they ought to combine their forces and open things up to more orc/gnome hybrid folks like herself and her mother. maybe even establish a proper singers guild.
so my problem right now is that I've opened the story on Evarin, and I do love the opening I've written for her! But I think maybe all this family drama with K'arik needs to take center stage. So I probably should write a different opening chapter to focus on him instead. And in general, I feel like what I've been doing with the back and forth between his PoV and Evarin's PoV is dragging the story out too slowly. I have four chapters taking place over the course of a single morning! Is that too much? Maybe an actual reader would feel fine about it, but as the writer I feel like I've spent sooooo much time on this one introductory day and I keep hitting snags because it's taking too long to get through these character introductions and plot setup scenes and actually get to where they're going, but it is probably just because I'm too stuck in my own head.
So at the very least I want to redo the current chapter I'm writing cuz I left off in an odd spot and I hate it. And possibly I may have to rework the opening of the whole story again (at least this time it would mostly be a matter of reordering stuff that's already written?)
Both Evarin and K'arik are introduced praying as part of their morning routines. But in order to introduce the orc family drama, I need to open on K'arik in the evening when his uncle from the north arrives very unexpectedly right as everyone is preparing for bed, days before he's expected to arrive (and he was supposed to come with a centaur diplomat who is very clearly not with him right now, so that's a whole political problem) so maybe I'll have orcs pray in the evening while gnomes pray in the morning? It would add one more little detail to show the similarities and differences in how their worship practices have diverged from the same ancestral culture.
I just don't wanna have to do it because I've already spent so much time reworking these opening chapters O-|--<
Rubber duck* about a writing problem you’re having. Is it a writer’s block situation? A plot point that isn’t sitting quite right? Something sideways with your characters, your setting, your themes?
*The term "rubber ducking" comes from when someone explains code to an inanimate object (like a rubber duck) to identify problems in it. In other words, explaining your problem to someone helps you identify what's wrong—and then fix it
I won't tackle this until my next draft, but I really need to figure out how to streamline August's character arc for August on Repeat (the time loop rom-com)
Like, one theme of the story is "you don't need to be perfect to deserve love" - a solid rom com theme, but it's not panning out as enough of a lesson to learn to break a time loop, you know? Or maybe it is and I'm overcomplicating things.
In true rom-com fashion, we open on August salty about their ex, who broke up with them because she felt like she was moving up in life while they were staying stagnant. (She's earning money! She's got a career! Meanwhile, they haven't been able to land a job in their field since graduating and their parents still pay for a bunch of their shit.)
I've been REALLY back and forth about how to articulate this...like is it a "Grow up, August!" situation? An "I'm out of your league?" situation? Both? Neither? A secret third thing? I need to figure out what works best so the exposition isn't super cumbersome - and because August's emotional hangup needs to be articulated in like, sentence 1 of the pitch for the book.
Rubber duck* about a writing problem you’re having. Is it a writer’s block situation? A plot point that isn’t sitting quite right? Something sideways with your characters, your setting, your themes?
*The term "rubber ducking" comes from when someone explains code to an inanimate object (like a rubber duck) to identify problems in it. In other words, explaining your problem to someone helps you identify what's wrong—and then fix it
I am delving deeper into a specific period of my VtM PC's backstory. Ideally, although the text is intended only for myself and my ST, the end result will feel like a book or a long fic. At least, that's what I'm hoping for. I want to be able to read it without needing the rest, and for the experience to be a satisfying story chunk.
That said, technically, it's more like a new book within a book series. But like one of those books that feel more like a spin-off. It's sort of separated from all the rest.
Thus, I'm kind of spiraling about structure and pacing. I don't want to reintroduce stuff that was/will be covered at length on other story chunks. It also feels a little weird to just gloss over them. I'm two chapters in and it feels like both too much and too little.
Another issue is that this chunk has a very, very clear focus (a specific relationship, from beginning to end), but there are other people around, obviously. And like, for a backstory, I feel it's better to just glance over them and avoid bloat. But for a proper story, it feels like every other character is not deep enough? I could make them deeper, but it's technically unnecessary and does not bring me joy either. I have clear favorites.
I feel like I'm struggling between what I want to do, the feeling I want it to have, and what I know about how a story is supposed to be structured...
Rubber duck* about a writing problem you’re having. Is it a writer’s block situation? A plot point that isn’t sitting quite right? Something sideways with your characters, your setting, your themes?
*The term "rubber ducking" comes from when someone explains code to an inanimate object (like a rubber duck) to identify problems in it. In other words, explaining your problem to someone helps you identify what's wrong—and then fix it
So I'm not stuck exactly, more I don't like the structure of my last two scenes in Wake and Glaer. I've got this need to have scenes flow from one to the next in such a way that I tend to include a joining word or phrase to link them. I can do that with Parnamyr's scene...but it would be going from terror to abuse and I don't think I want to do that. So I went with the reunion scene which feels wrong, it's not flowing but I don't know what else to do.
There is an antagonist from the first book I wanted to re-introduce but I thought it would be too soon and here's where the rubber duck works because now's actually perfect. It would make sense too as he wouldn't have noticed Faerai got on the cheln in the last book, may even have assumed he got on the wrong one because he didn't see them come in but they make a spectacle of themselves in this one. So he'd notice. And be plotting.
Rubber duck* about a writing problem you’re having. Is it a writer’s block situation? A plot point that isn’t sitting quite right? Something sideways with your characters, your setting, your themes?
*The term "rubber ducking" comes from when someone explains code to an inanimate object (like a rubber duck) to identify problems in it. In other words, explaining your problem to someone helps you identify what's wrong—and then fix it
From Lock the Last Door, my Cthulhu Mythos noir short story. It's from the end so I had to hide a bit but I'm sure no one will mind.
From another pocket, he pulled a cigarette carton. I watched
as he pulled a match box from the same pocket, and struck it. He
lit the cigarette between his lips, turned, and raised the flame
to a patch of bubbles. They caught, burned with a dangerous yellow light. He tossed the match aside.
“Let’s go, Core.”
He grabbed my arm, hard enough to bruise, and pulled. I let
him. I let him drag me from that wretched house, away from
[SPOILER] and all the hideous things it brought to
Arkham with it. I didn’t say a word, didn’t scream, as he forced
me into the front seat of a car. Behind us, the house burned like
a second sun.
Bruh I literally just finished typing this up your timing is fantastic.
Fira's magic was a sweet rush on her tongue. It was a release to let her translucent black flames arc out in a protective circle. The instinctive flash of joy from using her gift became ash in her mouth as soon as it manifested. She grabbed for that self same magic with desperate hands. Her unnatural fire returned to a soft pulse behind her ribs as Larkin stared blankly down to where she cowered on the ground. From her position in the mud outside their little cottage he seemed to tower over her the same as he had when she had been a small child. The inhuman rage that warped his face just moments before was gone. In its place was… nothing. The emptiness frightened her as much as his explosive fury had.
There wasn't a single scorch mark on him. She let herself believe she had pulled back in time. She would apologize and they could— Well. Her mother's husband would never get over this betrayal. She knew that, deep down. He already blamed her for her mother's death this past winter. But maybe if she begged his forgiveness—
He began to list to the side. Slowly, at first. Then all at once he crumpled into the mud.
Larkin did not move again.
