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I paint <3

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#poetry #poems #poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #original writing #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #uuuuh i did the poll and it said post so i decided to try #so here goes #2k25 we put our poetry on tumblr #gabe's posts #gabe's poems

i dont usually post art but i am once again going insane about my ocs (also procreate is evil evil evil i love it but its evil)

Teddy and Jaime are part of a long term project I’m working on involving a haunted inn owned by Teddy’s family. Teddy is trans and can see ghosts and Jaime is his childhood best friend/crush who uuuu -checks notes- plays soccer and also falls victim to his family’s curse (unclear on the specifics as of yet)

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Mostly it feels like playing Barbies. Or action figures, or chasing minnows off the dock with a net. Except you don’t have a net, what you’ve got is ten digits and desire, you don’t even know what for, but you’re still clutching at water and praying for scales sliding through your fingers. Or when you’re seven and you meet this kid on the playground and he shows you how to swing the monkey bars and yep, this is how it’s gonna be, just picking up friends like rocks, except then he moves away and it never happens again. Sometimes it feels like a grave, unmade, filling in dirt by the shovelful, except you’re the empty grave and you’re begging for people to fill you up, maybe that means sex and maybe that means hanging out in your brother’s bedroom and maybe that means a good cry. Maybe you don’t even have a brother, but God, you wish you did. Sometimes it’s like going to a party your old roommate invited you to, age twenty-six and too old for this shit, but she isn’t, doesn’t want to be, and you’re standing in the corner and you lock eyes with somebody and get that freefall feeling like twenty years later you’ll tell your kids about this, but then they turn away and it doesn’t happen. Or suddenly you’re twenty-nine and you can’t read signs so well, turns out you gotta wear glasses, except you used to be that guy with twenty-twenty vision, weren’t you? But now you’re old and you don’t feel it but it doesn’t matter, you still gotta wear the glasses. Actually, maybe you’re thirty-five, finally figured out a career and a budget and you could even take a trip around the world if you wanted, but you never thought about where you want to go because you didn’t know you could. Now throw forty in there, or hey, make it thirty-nine, the year you finally gotta accept, no excuses, that your youth is gone and you spent most of that figuring out what not to do and never bothered to figure out the rest. Then take it up to forty-five, when your cat finally kicks the bucket, poor old thing, and you tell your coworkers it’s fine because you don’t want to admit that your cat was the one person you can’t live without and now you have to. Then it’s like being fifty and you’ve finally mellowed out, not by choice but by force, because the only way you can face a life you never prepared for is through therapy and trying not to look it in the eye. And now, you know what? You can speed up the rest, just blur it together, not because it’s not worth it but because that’s what life does, it just speeds up, and now you’re seventy-two and content, but not happy, because content is like happiness without the lightning bolt. Because at seventy-two, or seventy-five, or seventy-whatever, you’ve finally figured out that the boundless range of your want outweighs the capacity for what life can give, and no matter how far you reach or how loud you cry, you’re still gonna be that kid chasing minnows at the end of the dock because you haven’t yet learned that you’re never gonna catch them.

#poems #poetry #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #original writing #creative writing #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #gabe's posts #ok ok im drunk so i guess im posting this BYEEE

advice i would have told myself when i started querying literary agents/trying to get published:

it's okay if your book doesn't find an agent. ESPECIALLY your first book. listen. i have written 10 books and queried 5. this doesn't count half finished drafts, fanfics, novellas, short stories, etc. 10 novels. 5 i felt good enough to get an agent. and tbh, if i could go back and query probably 3-4 of those books (without rewriting them or something) i wouldn't. i love them dearly, but they're representative of my skill level at that time period. they're not representative of my skill now, or what i want to write now.

to add to this: right now it's harder to find a literary agent than ever before. there aren't a ton of literary agents out there. the industry is incredibly hard to break into. when you get to a certain skill level, it eventually becomes about hitting what the market wants at the right time. there's a point in the process where the factors to your success are not all within your control.

don't dwell on one project. move on to the next. okay i feel like we all have that ONE project that we're obsessed with. like we have other projects, other ideas, but there's that one magnum opus, dream project, etc, that we dream of getting into the world. however, writing and rewriting a single project is not going to improve your skills and broaden your horizons the way moving on to other projects will. I'm not saying DON'T come back to it, but i've seen times (including with myself) where authors stagnate because they dwell on one project, trying to beat it into something that will be THE ONE, and in the end, they're not getting the breadth of experience that comes from writing new characters, new types of plots, new settings, new genres, etc. this might not apply to you and that's okay! but i've seen it before and i thought i'd mention. like you don't need to ABANDON your dream project, but put it aside once in a while and write something else. you'll grow as a writer.

don't lose yourself in your desperation to get published. for a long time, i was so focused on publishing that it became paramount to my writing. the end-all, be-all. and eventually, i had to ask myself if i'd truly be happier as a published author once the excitement of the accomplishment wore off. when i asked myself that, i realized that...not really? i want to write because i love my stories. i want to share them, yes, but sharing stories in the publishing world is a different beast. you'll get bad reviews, bad-faith takes, etc. interacting with fans might not be the best idea (we've all seen how that can backfire). realizing that my worth as a writer didn't depend on whether people read my work or put it in print made me a lot happier. i enjoy the process so much more.

tbh i have a lot more thoughts but im not even sure tumblr is the right audience for this so ill leave this here. and i also want to say if anybody on here has a book they plan to query, im happy to take a look at the query and/or first chapter. i've queried a lot of books and my current has a pretty high request rate (!) so i swear i know SOME things lol. but either way, i hope this helps some people! it's what i wish i'd heard 5-6 years ago lmao

#writing #writeblr #am querying #publishing #original characters #gabe's posts