aesthetics mood board for my slasher novel-in-progress (Avivore)
seen from Yemen
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Switzerland
seen from France
seen from Thailand
seen from Brazil

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Germany
seen from Finland
seen from Japan
seen from Mexico
aesthetics mood board for my slasher novel-in-progress (Avivore)
06:00 ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° Wake Up
Up at six. Bus at seven. No thinking yet.
07:45 ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° Café Ritual
I always read before I write. An hour minimum, no exceptions. My usual spot is Malahide Village, a quiet seaside town with a castle nearby. My order is always the same: dark roast mocha. Reading first gets me into the right headspace before I even breathe near my manuscript.
09:45–13:40 ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° Library Session
The main event! I always write in the same secluded corner of the library. Today I wrote for just under four hours straight. One solid block, ripped in half.
The first half was editing to warm up. Once I was firing on all cylinders, I moved on to drafting new material. I should have stopped to eat but I have to drop the ball somewhere.
My OneNote decided to act haunted. That’s convenient when I’ve only just crawled out of writer’s block, yeah? It crashed every time I opened it. After fighting with my laptop, I said “fuck it” and used the browser version.
Today’s material leaned heavily into the sea as a motif. Drowning, seals, and the worst of nature. I have a long-standing fascination with seals, particularly leopard seals, which are genuinely terrifying. Ireland, fortunately, only offers the fat and friendly variety.
I fell down a research rabbit hole and learned that seal meat is traditionally processed by turning the animal’s own skin into a drawstring bag to hang the meat in. Horrifying. Perfectly on theme.
Despite all that, I got far more done than I expected. I always end my sessions by spending about twenty minutes preparing notes and setting myself up so the next session starts smoothly.
14:00 ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・° Fuck off Home.
Pack up and left the library. Thirty minutes to vape, decompress, and come back to the real world before taking the scenic route home. I will be making seafood pasta.
𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇.
𝑰𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 + 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝑰'𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌.
𝑪𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒊𝒍.
𝑨𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂.
𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐀 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 + 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞.
𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭.
𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥. 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐌! 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐫.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐈 "𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭".
𝐈’𝐦 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫.
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.
The set up to edit one paragraph for 2 hours