ink & sugar

stories for days~~

[ourwakingsoules-deactivated2019]

You do not have to be good. / You do not have to walk on your knees / through the desert repenting. / You only have to let the soft animal of your body / love what it loves.

Mary Oliver, Wild Geese (via aranrhod)

[writerswritecompany]

Cheat Sheets for Writing Body Language

We are always told to use body language in our writing. Sometimes, it’s easier said than written. I decided to create these cheat sheets to help you show a character’s state of mind. Obviously, a character may exhibit a number of these behaviours. For example, he may be shocked and angry, or shocked and happy. Use these combinations as needed.

by Amanda Patterson

[forficwritersbyficwriters]

You guys, this is such a great chart especially for budding writers. Sometimes it’s more effective to show a character being bored or excited or shocked without explicitly saying so.

[polarparalian]

for anyone still curious about this blog, i have started a new story! so expect some snippets from it, in the future

[polarparalian]

They would continue along the streets, just barely lit by yellow sodium lamps. They would have stopped at the motel off the highway - no, they wouldn’t have. They would turn onto the highway ramp and keep going west, until the stars and galaxies completely made up the night sky and shone brighter in the darkness that framed them. They would have drove on and on, on the two lane road that I passed out on all those years ago, stopping once he veered to the side one too many times. He would blame the wine at dinner and produce another bottle all the same.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

I echo him because recycling is good for the environment. And since I’ve been so good, I can afford to get a little bit nasty. This man has let a perfect stranger into his home and I’m sure that if he wanted to rape and kill me, he would have done it by now. But as things stand, we’re standing with a distance between us and it feels safe. There’s enough space for me to run from my own words, if need be.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

I’m so cruel when I’m angry. There’s no point to lying to me and literally everyone else knows it - but I make myself think they’re lying anyways, and it just brings me down more. I take in big gasping breaths while I run, and my thoughts spin around like the dryer on high.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

The way back to the apartment feels faster. It’s another psychological thing, it’s how all the landmarks are familiar and your memory fills in the missing holes. It’s pure black out now but maybe I’m walking faster too. Half the street lights are busted and it would be just my luck if someone reached out from a dark alleyway and pulled me into their world of hurt.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

“Thank you,” says Elaine, and her words are like a little bandage trying to patch up a wound - but I think I’m rotting from the inside out, like that obese woman in the news who wouldn’t move from her couch - so she became one with it - the skin of her back rotted to her spine and her kidneys falling out like pinata candy. I think of how sometimes I would like to spend my entire life in bed, and the parallel I draw is disconcerting.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

But even though I say it’s that way, her attitude always shines through. She’s fluent in body language and the way her lips are pursued say more than words can. I’ve taken her left hand in mine and begun painting those nails when she opens her mouth and shatters the silence for a new kind of peace.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

She holds out her hands in that feminine way, the fingers splayed out and curling up. If you ask a dude to do the same thing, he’ll curl his palm upwards and fold the fingers in, like he’s reflecting in on himself. I think of all the men I know in my life, and imaging them engaging in self-reflection makes me snicker on the inside.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

When I enter this place it feels like home. I don’t know how - maybe it’s something about the family pictures, with five people dolled up in their Sunday best and smiling broadly, or maybe it’s the curtains, the ones that Elaine made by hand - maybe it’s the smell, I swear some families have their own smell and Elaine’s brood takes the cake. It fills the space between these walls and it makes this house all their own.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

His persistence is charming, in a way, like how deep water sparkles so nicely, and can coerce you into taking one big leap.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

But money can’t buy off this rising feeling in my thoughts. It’s telling me to stab the thing in my ear, to plunge it in my eyes and scrape them out good until I can hear no evil, see no evil, purge it all and pour in sugarplums and spice instead.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

And then he’s off, braving the elements to meet his friend, always his friend, someone he shows what is arguably his most intimate side. It’s the pinnacle of relationships, isn’t it? And yet I’m sitting here on an iron bench, with flurries falling faster around me, feeling nothing like chopped liver and more like I’ve taken on some of this man’s hollowness within me.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

I can feel my fingers dragging through his wound, tearing fresh blood into it and sprinkling salt in for funsies. I know it hurts for him and it hurts for me too - but my pain can’t possibly compare. And he looks so defeated when he looks back at me, across that wide expanse of sidewalk between us, the space he so desperately created. I think he thinks the distance keeps him safe, that he can forget when he’s alone. But that’s a pipe dream and he must know it by now.

P.T.

[polarparalian]

My voice comes out like pleading but I can’t help it. He’s pushed us both to our boundaries and they’re on the verge of breaking beyond repair - shattering into shards with no hope of recovery. This is a dangerous path to walk down but I’m going down it for better or for worse. It’s too late to go back and I’ve come so far already, leaving without closure would be just plain cruel. But my savagery manifests itself anyways, for reasons even I don’t know, and it comes out in a single burst.

P.T.

[jaegersaint]

Note to self:

- Begin with action, with a disruption of the status quo.

- Don’t simply describe a sequence of events. “This happened, and then, and then, and then” is boring. Write from the eyes of the character. 

- No info dumps. Weave exposition into the fabric of the narrative.

- Good does not always equal elaborate. Write sincerely, write cleanly. Strong nouns. Strong verbs. 

- The devil is in the details. 

- Synonyms are not always interchangeable. 

- Read dialogue out loud. Same with passages. Vary the rhythm of sentences. 

- Like taking a photo, point of focus is important. Try to capture events from a new angle. 

- Try to strike a balance between form and substance. Pretty words with no gravity gets only half the job done. 

- By all means take risks. But also go back with fresh eyes and take note of what works and what doesn’t, and why. 

- Persist. Persist. Persist.