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@quietlyluna
Art by Nathan W Pyle website
I’m asking for a boost! This is a blog that wants to promote writers on tumblr by providing a place where others can easily be exposed to their works and encouraging content reblogs. We need more followers and most importantly more people using our tag to better circulate new works. If you’re on writeblr or just want to support authors, please consider reblogging this post or our pinned post to spread the word!
I thought this was pretty interesting. 🤓📚📖
Treka and the Sky Brights Pt. 4
-- This is an ongoing story, unedited, about an alien on an adventure across her planet. An unplanned story, I’ll post updates when I’m able.
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Treka opened her eyes a moment later to the sound of shouting growing closer. She was trapped under the scaly bulk of the stranger she’d been running from though she didn’t seem to be in danger from anything besides being crushed. And possibly the vile odor seeping from it’s mouth, a mouth that was filled with rows of bladed teeth and though thankfully unmoving, was still uncomfortably close to Treka’s own. Whimpering and trying to breathe as little as possible, she wriggled beneath the stranger in an attempt to loosen her arms from where they were pinned. It was this movement that caused the dull pain she’d felt in her lower left arm, the one that had reached out for the throwing sharp, to turn into a slicing hot pain, one that tore from her mouth in a ragged roar.
The voices were coming closer, ones Treka recognized, and in a few more painful moments, the weight was shifted off of her and she was free to sit up. Not that she could. She pulled her broken arm in towards her chest, cradling it with her other three as she willed herself not to scream. A calloused hand touched her cheek briefly as a figure, one of the Protectors, crouched down beside her prone form.
I think, when criticizing writing, there’s often quite a bit of confusion between unrealistic and breaking immersion. Too often I see people using the first term when what they actually mean is the second one.
See, when we engage with fiction, we suspend our disbelief about certain things. The author tells us that magic exists, so we’re willing to suspend our disbelief about the existence of magic. The more the author works to build an immersive world, the easier it is for us to suspend our disbelief and accept what’s going on. What’s ‘real’ or ‘isn’t real’ in our world isn’t important, but what’s ‘real’ in this fictional world does.
Good writing doesn’t need to be realistic but it does need to be immersive. We need to be able to stay in that suspension of disbelief, because once that’s broken, everything else can come crashing down with it.
So when people talk about one character or another’s choice being unrealistic what they often mean is that it broke their immersion. We are willing to accept the new rules of any given reality, so long as they are established for us. When new concepts come out of nowhere that weren’t introduced to us previously, that can make the world feel unreal. This can come in the form of rapid changes in the setting, tone, characterization, etc. It breaks our ability to suspend our disbelief, and brings back all of our critical thinking we purposefully set aside to enjoy the story.
Sometimes that’s a good thing, sometimes that’s what the author was trying to do, to get us to question everything that we thought we knew. But when it’s unintentional, poorly set up, repetitive, etc, then it just becomes a frustrating experience for the reader and makes the story unenjoyable.
I think the best way to understand this difference is to think of the classic ACME Toonville worlds. Cartoons have different rules to them, characters may survive things like anvils dropped on them with no more than annoyance, they can be run over by trains or change form completely in a matter of seconds. Those are all clearly established rules of the universe, and we can suspend our disbelief to accept them.
But now imagine if in one episode, without warning, an anvil was dropped on the wile coyote, and he died. Blood splattered everywhere, a mangled body left behind. And that was it. He was gone.
All the sudden, your immersion would be totally broken. Every past instance of anvil dropping and every future instance now becomes horrifying and hard to watch.
That’s what breaking immersion feels like when done poorly. That’s why consistence in writing is important, combined with of purposeful, deliberate changes. And that’s what I think people often mean when they say something feels ‘unrealistic’. They mean that it feels unreal within the universe created by the story as they’ve understood it, and as a result makes it hard to enjoy the story itself.
Treka and the Sky Brights Pt. 3
-- This is an ongoing story, unedited, posted here as I write it. CW mild violence
Pt. 1 here, Pt. 2 here
Sticking to the bushes and the dark spots as best she could, Treka picked her way towards the Elder’s house near the center of the circle and closest to the largest of the homefires. She didn’t see any more of the strangers as she went, but that didn’t mean they might not still be lurking in a house or around a corner somewhere. The screams had also subsided, though whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen.
Treka spied the familiar forms of some of the elders seated around the big homefire and watched as other circle members gathered around them. The main homefire was the meeting place for all stone circle events, so it made sense that its members would flock there to seek aid during an emergency. Not that anything of its kind had ever happened to them before, but Treka supposed that the others also were drawn to this place, looking for comfort and guidance from the elders or perhaps thinking to be saviors themselves.
She approached cautiously, wary of the intimidating scowls on the faces of the protectors who stood watching over the bent heads of the elders whispering amongst themselves. Treka felt her shoulders ease as she took in the sight of Su-Nami and Su-Rogna surrounded by so many of her family, the members of the stone circle. As she took her customary place on the ground behind the older members of her house, Treka couldn’t help but pick out who was missing and hoped they just hadn’t shown up yet. Speaking of missing…
Writing on Tumblr, formatting wise, is so bizzar. Especially on mobile.
In word documents or other text editors, I write in larger paragraphs, ones more akin to an essay or book format. I do still break them up for scene transitions, dialogue, ect., but they're several sentences long, maybe half a page or more.
Here on Tumblr,it looks wrong. Even the above chunk looks too big.
Why?
Is it that writing styles adapted to this Tumblr style format and everyone else just copies it?
Is it that those posts with huge chunks of text are less popular and therefore not as circulated?
Is the broken up format easier to read or more aesthetically pleasing?
Just a weird thing I've noticed in my short time on this site. If anyone has anything to add, or if maybe I'm the only one who has noticed, let me know!
✏️ I love to write and that's all that matters ✏️⠀
Situation prompts: Not what I expected
1. I’m your mailman, but when I drove up to your house you jumped into my car wearing chainmail and holding a potted plant and yelled, “Drive!”
2. I was trying to steal this painting and thought you were a security guard, but it turns out the uniform was disguise so that you could steal the same painting.
3. I hired you to fix my window while I was out, but when I got home you had replaced it with a stained glass depiction of grazing cows. I think I’ll keep it.
Inspired by the 3rd prompt because I'm a sucker for stained glass and cows. CW flirting, CW kissing
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"Thanks again Lisa. I really appreciate you comin' by on such short notice."
"Common now Gwen, you know I wouldn't miss a chance to come love on that sweet new pup of yours."
"Ha! She's goin' through her bite phase so I left some band-aids on the counter for ya, next to the cookies. And there's fresh milk in the fridge I just bottled this mornin'. And beers if ya want too, but don't go crackin' them open while you're puttin' the glass in. I wanna window I can see through, not some crookedy mess."
Gwen pointed a stern finger at Lisa, but her friend had already gone to start hauling tools out of her beat up truck. Leaning down towards her already packed bags, Gwen absentmindedly rummaged in one of them, pretending to be looking for something while instead she was looking at Lisa. Ever since Gwen moved here last summer and found herself living next door, albeit separated by a few miles, to the laid-back carpenter who was now grunting as she lifted a table saw single-handedly, Gwen had been entranced by the woman.
Art by Sandara (link to their deviantart, Instagram)
Writing inspiration: A small, horned dragon holding herbs to add to a potion brewing over flames in the windowsill of a potion shop.
"Witch!" "Heathen!" "Burn her!" You watch with amusement as they begin lighting the pyre under you. The flames tickle at your feet bringing the familiar warmth with them. What fools they are to think they could actually burn a dragon with fire.
Idiots, all of them, using up the last of their precious fuel to burn an innocent- well, ok not completely innocent- woman, just so they could sleep better at night believing that they'd rid themselves of evil. Insolent fools! Did they not realize dragons can't be burned? And now they'd be miserable, shivering in their pathetic huts. Imbecils, every last one of them!
The warmth did feel nice though, Madrea admitted to herself. The winters in this abysmally backwards kingdom were always so brutally cold. It felt like ages since she'd been truly warm by dragon standards.
The flames rising up to lick at her cheeks also gave rise to a thought, "Maybe I should make it more of a habit to get caught if the whole burning-at-the-stake thing continues to be a trend. It's an easier way to get a free fire cleanse than trying to find enough fuel for one on my own." Madrea gave more consideration to the thought as she reached down to grab a handful of ash from the burned ropes that once bound her, rubbing its deliciously warm abrasiveness on her skin as the townspeople looked on in abject horror.
Sometimes idiots had their uses.
Not everything needs to be a full story, you know?
If you have just one or two scenes that you’re really excited about, you can just write those. You don’t have to create a full WIP to contain them if you don’t want.
You can create characters without putting them into a project, they can just exist.
You can worldbuild for a universe that you never write about.
If there’s a trope you really want to write, but you don’t have a project to put them in… You can just write the best parts of that trope on its own.
Even if you do have a story and there’s parts you don’t want to write, it’s okay to just write the parts that you’re excited about. You don’t need to write the other parts and make it a full story.
I feel like in writing, there’s a lot of emphasis put on completion and writing a full story.
Completion or a full story doesn’t always have to be the purpose or goal. It’s okay and wonderful to just let something exist on its own without anything else.
→ community
"So have you ever felt part of your life like, glitch sometimes?"
"Random question but I mean, probably? What do you mean by glitch though exactly?"
"I mean- you know how in video games like, sometimes your character will be walking and just fall through the ground for like a split second and then it's fine and just keeps walking like nothing happened? Or like when your mini map registers a bad guy in the distance and you go to kill it but when you get within a certain distance the dot on the map just... disappears, like the bad guy never existed?"
Haha yeah I mean like, I've never fallen through the ground or like, had a tree branch poke out of my head but yeah, I think I've had some random little life glitches. Why do you ask?"
"Because I think I'm one of them. A life glitch. Your glitch."
Ha ha ha Zane, just because you're weird doesn't make you a glitch."
"So what do you think?"
"What do you mean what do I think? I just told you you're not a glitch."
"Um Sarah, I asked about what you thought about grabbing pizza for dinner. What are you talking about, me being a glitch? That doesn't make any sense."
"But we were just-".
"Sarah, sometimes I worry about you."
I feel this in my soul
Art by Simkaye (linked to their Instagram account)
Writeblr Introduction of Quietly Luna
Hello! I've seen a few of the fancy introductions in the writeblr community and thought I might make one too, except without the pretty pictures and whatnot because I honestly do not know how.
I go by Luna and this is mainly my snippets blog where I save the bits and pieces of writing that pop in my head and won't go away until I've written them down somewhere. It's unlikely I'll ever do more with these, but maybe someday.
I'll post mostly my own writing and sprinkles of reblogs here and there along with original photos from my trips that inspire my imagination.
If you'd like, there's more, but I know long posts can be painful so I've added a cut. (I just figured out that’s a thing)
Treka and the Sky Brights pt. 2
Pt. 1 here
(2/21/21 This is an ongoing story, mostly unedited except for spelling, that I’ll update when I can. TW mild violence, TW brief dismemberment mention, TW mildly scary, TW mild gore)
Dazed from the tumble, Treka looked around to get her bearings and see what she’d tripped over. She saw the stuffed toy first, a misshapen likeness of a six-paw, one of the toys gifted to her youngest sister last storm season to help calm her from the intense noise and lights. Treka blinked hard as her gaze took in the small hand still wrapped around the toy. There was no arm attached. While Treka screamed some small part of her mind urged her to go find the rest of her sister. Her internal voice whispered that one hand lost was not so terrible and if she could just find her sister she could help her learn to live with only 3 hands, the way old Zuc did. It was this thought that quelled her scream and pushed her to her feet. She had to find her sister. She had to find her family and save them from whatever was out here before they all lost more than just a hand. Hesitating, Treka grabbed the six-paw toy, trembling as it pulled free of the small hand, and tucked it into her waistband as she turned back toward the big house.
Picking up her pace, she ran along the back wall and skidded around the corner towards the front of the big house and towards the shadowed figures running through the light cast by the homefires. It was still too dark to make out anyone’s features, but it was easy enough to discern from their size that the hulking shadows moving more slowly were not those of her family, but of strangers or strange creatures responsible for the screams that still split the night. Unconsciously reaching to rub the soft cloth of the six-paw toy at her waist, Treka crouched behind one of the bare fruit bushes and crept her way towards the sound of whimpers coming from just inside the front doorway of the big house. One of the giant strangers was blocking the entryway, but Treka caught a glimpse of some blue limbs lit by the glow of one of the light beasts, kept inside to provide light without the harsh smoke made by the home fires. The subtle pink tinge to the glow told Treka that this light beast must be Elan’s, a small one, just like her own, barely old enough to give off sufficient glow to make the journey from the sleep pods to the relieving rooms less scary in the dark of night. Treka had left her own light beast on her sleep pod, knowing it’s light would only draw the attention of the biting buzzers on her climb up and down the hill.
Treka and the Sky Brights
Sometimes during storm season, when the elders make everyone cover the cages of the light beasts to hide them from the eaters, Treka would sneak out of the rock circle to go see the sky brights. The darkness without the glow of the home fires made clambering up the hill behind the big pond slow going, but it was worth the scrapes and bruises Treka collected. The view stretched on across the distance and only from here could she see all the different colors of the sky brights as they flashed, rending the horizon with jagged cuts, their echoing booms drowning out the sound of her own harsh breathing.
The hill Treka sat upon, legs hugged to her chest, was silent all around her. She marveled at the way the lights from the sky brights illuminated the patterns of cuts on her bright blue skin, sighing with wonder at how they made the flecks of her yellow blood shine gold. Even the buzzers were still and Treka liked to think the sky brights had entranced them all, all eyes and ears turned to watching the chaotic dance of lights as they passed across the horizon, none daring to move till the dance was over. The buzzers and beasts from fierce to foolish were her companions for the night and none would bother the other while the brights tore up the sky. Treka felt safer this night than any other, knowing none would harm her while the sky brights held their power. She was careful to time her leaving so that she'd make it back through the circle before the sky brights fully faded, knowing full well the chaos that heralded the end of the stillness.
Treka had been much smaller the first time the eaters had come. It had been her second storm season that she'd snuck out to the hill to watch the sky brights but the first that she had come home to screams. The home fires had still been lit back then, making her climb down the hill faster with their light, and the scene before her all the more gruesome. She'd come back through the stone circle and cut across the field where the beasts food was grown, following the sounds of her family's cries for help, fear pushing her faster. She was running headlong towards the back door of her family home, feet so sure of the path she'd traveled that she hadn't even realized she'd tripped until she rolled to a stop against the wall of the big house.
Pt. 2 here
(This is an ongoing store I’ll update as I can. Unedited except for spelling. This is just practice writing for fun, not anything I intend to publish. I’m still learning Tumblr so advanced apologies if anything is weird/wrong. I’m also still learning how to do trigger warnings so also apologies if I leave one out or get it wrong.)