L. R. Spooner

Official tumblr for my writing! Updates sporadically but with love.

[spoonerwrites]

“That is madness, Watson.”

“How fortunate we are to be in an asylum,” said I.

A Matter of Blood is a full crossover novel with Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson joining the fight against Dracula. Currently a WIP being drafted. Follow for more updates and occasional excerpts!

[luna-azzurra]

Writers have two modes and they are "i haven't written in three weeks and i am rotting from the inside and everything feels wrong and i don't know who i am anymore" and "i wrote for four hours straight and forgot to eat and it's dark outside and when did that happen and i feel like a god" and there is nothing in between. no chill. no medium setting. just famine or feast and a very confused nervous system.

[inkatesbush]

they're saying spending 2 hours in the word doc changing words slightly to be more specific and evocative and moving endless commas around is one of the most noble and respected things that you can do

[sinclairsting]

Write if you can.

If you can't write: Edit.

If you can't edit: Outline.

If you can't outline: Brainstorm.

If you can't brainstorm: Rest.

Writing is many tasks. Do whichever ones you can handle and you'll still be making progress.

[scribble-dee-vee]

Seeing a bunch of writing posts lately like “it’s okay if you only wrote a couple hundred words today :))”

As someone with a full time job, diverse hobbies, and a commitment to proper rest/self care, I would amend that. It’s okay if you don’t write anything at all on MOST DAYS OF YOUR LIFE. You’re still a writer if you’re passionate about creating stories and putting words on paper when time allows. Life is busy and full of possibility, and that’s beautiful, actually. Kill the hypercapitalist productivity demon in your head.

[prophetic-writer]

I'm sorry but I have one draft that I never finished but I laugh every time I see it

[hellsquills]

Writing Tip

Neither do i

[nondelphic]

"why do you write?" because it’s the only way to silence the characters pacing around my brain like victorian ghosts with unresolved issues that prevent them from moving on.

[ceejoules]

not writing, not not writing, but a secret third thing

[lady-grace-pens]

letting my stories spin around my head like a microwave

[write-on-world]

[ghosthorse-tracks]

Lesser-known steps of the writing process:

Finding all the paragraphs where you used some hyper-specific word more than once

Rearranging paragraphs that you swear you wrote in the right order but turned out to be totally backwards

Going for a walk, coming up with the perfect line, and forgetting it as soon as you get home and open your laptop

Creating a separate document where you can dump all of those nice sentences that no longer fit in anywhere

Waking up in a cold sweat because so-and-so was supposed to be barefoot but never actually took his shoes off

[aearyn]

going for a walk, coming up with the perfect line, you get back and type it in...and realize you just said almost that exact thing two sentences ago.

[bambistjames]

non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc

[anais-ninja-bitch]

how write book?

[cargopantsman]

like that but more

[anais-ninja-bitch]

oh noooooo

[chaosnebula]

*chanting softly to myself*

It's still worth it to write it down even if I'm the only person who will ever read it.

*repeat as necessary to beat back the self-worth issues*

[wintersongstress]

wilf (wip i’d like to finish)

[punksalmons]

the thing about writing is that it's very hard unless you have to leave the house in 15 minutes or perhaps go to bed

[spoonerwrites]

Getting ready...

[spoonerwrites]

Two count them TWO excerpts for the 80,000k words celebration!!

You may unearth something from chapters 14 and 19 under the cut, as there was a tiebreaker in the poll. Enjoy ❤️

When we arrived at the offices of Mitchell, Sons, & Candy, Harker indeed went in alone, and Holmes and I remained outside. He took his cigarette case from his pocket and offered it to me. I removed two, lit them both, and handed one back to him along with the case.

“Now then, Watson,” he said presently, “what’s troubling you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

Holmes chuckled. “Do you wish for me to explain my deductions, or would you prefer to share it yourself?”

“Alright, alright.” I tapped the ash from the end of my cigarette onto the damp cobbles below. “You may scoff, for it isn’t logical in the least, but I have a feeling that all these events are building up to – well, I can’t be sure what, but it troubles me.”

“Do your instincts tell you so?”

“The Count is doing all this work with the boxes, Mr Renfield had his strange episode, there was that bat hanging about while we were talking the other night. And it is only a few days since we laid Miss Westenra properly to rest. I cannot help but think something else dreadful is going to happen soon.”

--------------------

“You care for her, hm? I see it in your eyes; as always, you have the most expressive face.”

“How can I not?” said I, “but I do feel a desire to – to look after her. I am sure every one of us feels the same. She is but twenty. I am old enough to be her father. I cannot help but want to protect her as though she were my own.”

My friend did not reply. I watched the mantelpiece clock pass two full minutes before he spoke again.

“I have never wished to have children,” he said slowly, “but if I had; if my child were dealt such a terrible hand by Fate, and had to endure so much suffering, then I believe I would go to the ends of the Earth to make it right.”

I looked up at him. “You never fathered children, it is true, but I fancy a certain Baker Street division of the detective police force might occupy a similar position in your heart.”

He chuckled, flushed with amusement. “I declare a touch in your favour, Watson.”

“Do you know,” I added, “she does remind me of you.”

“How so?”

“Her intelligence, mostly; the way she gathered and connected all those disparate pieces of communication to form a narrative we could follow. But there is something that she said yesterday morning, that if she found in herself any sign that she might harm someone she loves, she would end her own life.”

“And this reminds you of me?”

“‘Let me pay you one in return’,” I said, “‘when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter’.”