#novice author

[enby--ghost]

the worst part about writing a book is how many thoughts I have about movies and all that jazz, when I'm three chapters deep and haven't even introduced the third main character yet

I've genuinely put thought into how I'll handle discourse of my story online, and the first draft isn't even finished

[oldbloggerz]

Fellow Writers~

Hey y’all writeblrs, quick question. What writing apps/programs do you guys find the most useful? I’m looking into what programs can be the most beneficial to a novice writer such as myself. I have the free version of Grammarly and I’m looking into Scrivener but it’s pretty pricey. I keep having to use Tumblr’s HTML ‘find and replace’ to change one word in my writing to another. But there HAS to be apps with that feature, right?

Thoughts on this? 

[thegraysonzanderthings]

The Girl Off to the Side

March 17th, 2015, is the day my life changed. My name is Jason Stone, and as I said before, I can pinpoint the last regular day of my life exactly. I awoke early that day before even the world itself had stirred. I lay there just thinking about my life, wondering if I was doing everything right or if I had been doing things wrong.

Before I knew it, my mother was calling me down for breakfast. I grunted in displeasure and got up to get ready for school. I pulled a random shirt from my drawer and put on some old jeans. As I was leaving my room, I grabbed my jacket, looked in the mirror, and thought to myself today was going to be different, it was going to the day I changed things. It turns out someone else was going to change it for me.

As I walked downstairs, my pops told me to go out and feed the pigs. I looked at him and said, ok. He looked back at me said, “Jason, I wish it had been you.” I looked back at him and told him, “me too.” After that, I walked downstairs, grabbed the sandwich mom made me and left. My pops hated me; he blamed me for my sister’s death, and… so did I.

Before going to school, I gave the pigs their food, hopped into my truck, and drove to school. My school life was great; I was popular, and everyone liked me. I could have any girl I wanted a fact that many other male students envied. But none of that mattered to me, no, I wanted something more something better. I wanted to be somebody who that person is I don’t know, but I know it’s not who I am now, and I know that this town isn’t the place it’s going to happen.          

So, I tried hard. I got straight A’s and was the star player on the football team even though I didn’t care about football at all. It was all just a distraction from the fact that I killed my sister.

Anything that made me forget about that was worthwhile. That’s where my best friend Ivan comes in, he’s hilarious and helps me forget about the crap in my life. Honestly, he’s the best part about this town without him I honestly don’t know where I would be.

If there’s anything I miss about my old life, it’s him. Anyway, let’s move on because this next part is important. It was the start of everything the beginning of my real life. It’s when I met “her” for the first time Aubrey Lancaster, the most beautiful girl in all existence. It was homeroom and our teacher Mr. Herber told us we had a new student, that’s when she walked in, she was beautiful; it was almost like she wasn’t real, but she was, and she was looking at me.

She had just moved to town and was the new girl in school, which was weird because there were only two months of school left. I didn’t care about all of that honestly; I could barely think at all she was mesmerizing. She was wearing a leather jacket with a blue flannel shirt and a black skirt with military boots. She had stark black hair and eyes the color of a vengeful storm.

Before I knew it, she was sitting next to me, and she was starring… at me. I didn’t know what to say, so I just didn’t say anything. The class went by so fast, and I never said a word to her, after class, she got up and left without a word even though she had been staring at me. I couldn’t make sense of it throughout the school day. I tried to talk to her, but every time I got close, it was like time slowed down, and I could never get close enough.

School ended, and I hadn’t gotten a single chance to talk with Aubrey I felt defeated, but I thought to myself there’s always tomorrow.

I decided not to think about it and just head to the arcade with my friends. Ivan was roasting me about how I was such a chicken, not being able to talk to her. I grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground we were laughing and yelling and having a great time.

Time went by quickly, and it was nine o’clock. I said later to the boys and left the arcade as I was walking to my care I felt like I was being watched, but I didn’t see anyone, so I shrugged it off and attributed it to the many energy drinks I had drunk.

Once I got into my care out the corner of my, I saw a figure move it was slender, but from what I had seen, it looked deformed the only thing I could make out was the color of its eyes the same as Aubrey’s eyes. The feeling of being watched intensified drastically, and I shook off the thought that it was Aubrey; it had to be just a trick of my imagination because that thing could never be Aubrey.

After all my big talk, I still hadn’t spoken to Aubrey, and it had been three days. Although I’ve never talked to her, she still stares at me throughout homeroom, but every time I try to speak to her, she never talks back. Even outside of class, every time I try to get close to her, that feeling of time slowing down starts, and I can’t even get close. At this point, I felt like I was going insane. I mean…is she... is she even real? No, she has to be real. I’ve seen other people talk to her and even my friends make fun of me about her.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m determined to talk to her… no matter what. The next day I’m committed to not let her out of my sight. During homeroom, I stare right back at her, and as soon as class ends, I follow her, and this time it’s working. She leads me down a hallway I had never been down before, which was impossible. I knew this school like the back of my hand.

Nevertheless, I had never been to this part of the school; she finally stopped walking once she had taken me to a classroom at the end of the mysterious hallway. Once inside, she walked to the middle of the classroom, turned around, and motioned for me to come closer.

As I started to get closer to her, she started to change, her arms dislocated and grew long and gangly her mouth unhinged from its socket and grew so large it could easily swallow me whole what’s worse is the rows and rows of shark-like teeth sharp and piercing. Her legs grew as well, and she was easily 8 feet tall. I couldn’t move. I was petrified; she hunched down over me, put her face directly in front of mine, and gutterly whispered, do you still think I’m pretty?

My mind went blank and next thing I knew I was in my room with my parents shaking me awake as soon as I saw them, I hugged them and cried for a long while too afraid to let go.

I didn’t go to school for a few days; after that, every time I thought about it, I felt like puking. Friends from school kept on texting and calling, but I didn’t respond, I was too afraid, and even if I could answer, I had no idea what I would say... Finally, a couple of my friends came to check on me.

My mom let them go up to my room where I was, and Ivan opened the door and tackled me to the ground yelling at me, asking where I had been. I laughed for what seemed like forever; it was the first time in days that I had felt like myself. My mom brought snacks, and we talked and made fun; no one pressured me about what was wrong. They just messed around with me, making me feel so much better.

As I was talking and laughing, something started to feel off. It was like something that hadn’t been there before just appeared, and I was the only one who seemed to notice. It was Aubrey out of what seemed like thin air she appeared, but no, I searched my memory, and she had also been there since the first night she came to town. Always watching silently from the side the nights I spent awake at night wondering what she was doing or why she wouldn’t talk to me, she had been right there next to me. I didn’t know how I never noticed I started to scream all my friends tried to calm me down but they couldn’t I started to yell at everyone to leave as I frantically tried to put distance between myself and that monster.

My mother ran up the stairs and told everyone to go. She stayed with me until I calmed down and had fallen asleep.

Later that night I woke with cold sweats I couldn’t stop having that nightmare I sat up in the dark and looked around to my horror she was still there. Before I could even breathe, she was sitting next to me. I wanted to run I tried to scream but I couldn’t I was frozen by what seemed to be a supernatural force.

She started to whisper in my ear. I don’t remember what she said, but I do remember what happened next. She got up and kneeled next to me and kissed me and I kissed her back it was like nothing I had ever felt before as soon as she stopped, I wanted more. Aubrey got up and smiled at me and shook her finger no, then disappeared into thin air.

The next day I went to school and was no longer afraid, as soon as I saw Aubrey, I ran up to her and gave her the biggest kiss she smiled up at me and had me follow her inside. As she was walking inside the school, she started to change her arms dislocated and grew long and gangly her mouth unhinged from its socket and grew so large with rows and rows of shark-like teeth sharp and piercing, and she was absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

When I looked into the school trophy case, I noticed that I had changed to, I smiled and laughed and looked at Aubrey I was happier than I had ever been and oh so very hungry.

[marbled-raccoon]

Day 20

Prompt: Think about the last dream you had. What was it about?

This prompt and all I do come from this website:

Get a daily dose of inspiration with a year's supply of creative writing prompts. Daily writing helps you keep your writing goals. Learn how

Trigger warnings: weird dream logic I guess?

Discussion of the writing at the bottom

___

I do remember having a dream recently, but I can’t really remember the details of it now. Usually I remember if I’m able to immediately tell someone else what happened in it or if I write it down, but I didn’t get the chance to do either, so…yeah. I remember it was weird though.

Instead, I’ll write about the second-most recent dream I had, which I remember for the most part.

I remember in the dream that I was a young boy walking around with a young girl who I think was my sister? Either that or a friend of mine. We were at Universal Studios, but it was obviously kind of messed up because it was a dream version of it. Basically the whole park had been turned into one big line-que with metal railings and all, and I mean the whole park. If you wanted to go get food or walk around a gift shop, you would step out of your line and get into that line. I honestly don’t remember how you would get back into the main line, maybe it was like merging onto a backed up highway - someone stops to let you in, you both move forward, and the person behind the person who let you in stops to let someone else in front of them. It doesn’t really matter.

At some point, my friend/sister and I decided we wanted ice cream or something, but the line was way too long. I think she came up with the idea of getting completely out of the line to go into an employees only area, the thought process being that we could move more freely through the park by the employee tunnels and whatnot. We decided to split up to search around easier.

Now alone, I, for some reason, had the strange idea to start yelling for my grandma. I remember vaguely that I was thinking about the fact my grandma always made food for me and, even though she wasn’t there, if I called for her she would come and make/get me ice cream. In response to me calling for my grandma, I did hear an older woman’s voice reply.

The voice led me to a storage area that looked like it was stacked full of gymnasium mats or something, but I knew that’s where I’d heard the voice. Suddenly, peaking out from between some of the mats, I saw a very scary looking older woman. I think she was bald with a freaky smile. I knew that wasn’t my grandma and I was going to close the door and leave, but she asked if I wanted ice cream.

I remember feeling too scared to say no, so I nodded. She led me in behind the mats and there was a whole living area back there. She began making…food, I guess. It wasn’t ice cream and it honestly looked really gross, but I went from being polite and scared to feeling pretty at ease, for some reason. The older woman was pretty obviously trying to scare or unsettle me, but the more I earnestly responded to her, the more confused she seemed to get.

Eventually, I asked what her name was - seeing as I already had a grandma and I needed to call her something else to differentiate them - and she said “Grandma Babyhead.” I think I thought that was funny even in the dream.

I ate, hung out for a little longer, then left. The details start to get foggy past that point, but there were some older guys who I think were my family. When I told them about what happened, I got the impression they knew Grandma Babyhead and that she was cool.

It was a very bizarre dream.

___

I forgot to post this one yesterday, oops

I honestly find Grandma Babyhead thoroughly enjoyable as a concept. There’ve been times where I have a dream and want to use it in some way for a story, but I really really want to use her somewhere

[marbled-raccoon]

Day 19

Prompt: write a letter to future generations

This prompt and all I do come from this site:

Get a daily dose of inspiration with a year's supply of creative writing prompts. Daily writing helps you keep your writing goals. Learn how

Trigger warnings: talk about global warming and civil unrest

Discussion of the writing at the bottom

___

Dear future generations,

I don’t really know what to tell you. What I hope for you is that my generation is able to make a lot of really big and important changes very soon because we’re careening very fast towards a wall. I feel hopeful one day that things are going to take a sharp left, then the next I’m just bracing for impact. Every generation has an end of the world scare, but this isn’t really the end of the world itself - more the end of life as we know it.

When I was in high school, I fell down the alt-right pipeline. I was convinced we were on the brink of civil war back then, but when I came out of it thought I was being dramatic. At this point in my life, I really truly do think we actually are on the brink of some sort of internal conflict. With the way things are functioning right now in the American government, I think revolution is the only way to see anything really change, but I’m not sure what that looks like. I’m not sure what system of government I would want to see put in place of what we had before.

I don’t want to leave a mess for future generations to clean up, I feel like that’s what was done to me. I look at my parents and I wonder how they can be proud of the world they’ve given to me, I don’t know how I can be proud of the world I’m leaving for you.

I guess this letter is partly an apology and a message to not give up. If there’s one thing you can put faith in, it’s that the earth is more resilient than we give it credit for. We’ve done a real number on it, I don’t think it can ever be pristine again, but it’s already trying to heal. Even if it takes the collapse of human society to happen, someday nature will bounce back.

I don’t want to think humans have to go extinct in order for that to happen, but I do think we would need to take a massive step back. Maybe what I want to see is a return to a more rudimentary way of life while keeping some modern touches. I don’t think we should do away with medicine or anything, but I don’t mind the idea of walking places as long as it’s safe to do so. With how large the human population is, I don’t know how possible it would be to just…get rid of certain things, but it’s a nice thought anyway.

So chin up, I guess. You at least (hopefully) don’t need to fight with many past generations because I’d like to think most of us are pretty cool and understanding. We know this world sucks and we don’t want to see you drown, so try not to be too too scared.

That’s all I got, I think.

Yours truly,

Some guy

___

I think most of this speaks for itself

I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say to kids growing up right now. It took me until this year at 24 to finally start seeing a point to life, how long will it take some of them to see a point?

Also, yes, the alt-right pipeline thing is true. I’m not proud of that and I don’t really know how to explain how I fell into it or why exactly I left it. It just happened in both instances

[marbled-raccoon]

Day 18

Prompt: Invent a character that can manipulate what people see

This prompt and all I do come from this website:

Get a daily dose of inspiration with a year's supply of creative writing prompts. Daily writing helps you keep your writing goals. Learn how

Trigger warnings: I suppose conspiracies and implications of human testing?

Discussion of the writing at the bottom

___

Logan Cyrus is a young aspiring superhero…who already has a bounty out for him.

He has a unique ability to tap into radiowaves, which he originally used to eavesdrop on his parents’ conversations when he was younger. Eventually, he graduated to listening in on police chatter and this is where the problems started.

Being fifteen and rocking up to active crimes on your bike is a good way to get in a whole world of trouble, especially when the only unnatural ability you have is best used from a distance for recon. The police were mildly impressed by his knowledge of the different code phrases they used to communicate what kinds of crimes were happening in the area, but not enough to ask for his help like he wanted. Instead, they just called his parents and told them that, in exchange for not slapping him with charges, he needed to be sent to the academy for supers.

His parents didn’t even know he had this ability, which was an uncomfortable conversation in and of itself. They came to the quick conclusion that the only choice was to send him to the academy so he could learn how to use his powers for good instead of for…being a nuisance. He was not happy about it, but it wasn’t really his choice at that point.

The good thing for him, bad for a lot of other people, was that he learned he not only could listen in on conversations, but he could also manipulate radio waves in and of themselves. Many a prank was played at the school in the wake of this revelation where the morning announcements were hijacked to show text or videos that they weren’t supposed to. He and a small group of friends he’d accumulated thought it was hilarious, but school staff were less than amused.

Logan sensed at a certain point that his teachers weren’t really trying to help him strengthen his abilities anymore, instead they were giving him a lot of lectures about responsibility and the danger he was putting himself in. He responded to this by deciding to work on his abilities on his own in the only way he knew how: by being even more of a snoop.

The email chain he found himself quietly observing was just supposed to be another exercise in focusing his abilities on a wider scale - the teachers and other staff were always shooting emails back and forth, it gave him a large pool to practice in - but he started to feel a sinking in his stomach the more he read. On the surface, the emails appeared somewhat normal, but the more he looked the more the conversations didn’t really make sense unless he assumed the staff were talking about something else.

It became clear to him the more he followed those specific teachers’ email chains that something really bad was going on in the school. He couldn’t know how bad until he finally managed to remotely break into a specific series of password protected files, where he learned the real story of what happened to Baronet “The Body Terror” and why he was a wanted person.

Logan doesn’t want to be a traditional hero. The heroes he sees peacocking around the city don’t address the real problem and sickness breeding behind the scenes. He wants to be the person that exposes the truth, and he does so one hijacked radio show or newscast at a time.

___

I don’t know why this time my tabs all disappeared when I copy and pasted this over, but ah well. The double spacing on tumblr helps with readability

This is set in the same superhero world as one of my other prompts. I actually really like this character, so I might work him into the actual story (whenever I write it, lmao)

[marbled-raccoon]

Day 17

Prompt: write a letter to a fictional character and give them some advice

This prompt and all I do come from this website:

Get a daily dose of inspiration with a year's supply of creative writing prompts. Daily writing helps you keep your writing goals. Learn how

Trigger warnings: uh…immortality as a curse? Idk

Discussion of the writing at the bottom

___

Dear Kim,

I want to start this letter with an apology. I made you many years ago now (I probably would’ve been about fifteen, so it’s been nearly a decade) and I still haven’t found a satisfying way to remove your curse.

I know the idea is stupid, probably even cruel, to you. Where you are, you’ve been alive and suffering for millions of years and the ending of that suffering hinges on me. It’s in my hands to remove it, but the only way I can is if the circumstances please me. I’ll work on a solution for you, it’s not fair.

A mortal giving an immortal advice is almost laughable, but I’m also the one true god of your world, so I know how it ticks. In a lot of ways, I know how you tick too, so I suppose take my word with a healthy amount of skepticism, but weight too.

No matter how long you’ve been alive, you’re still a human and humans are pack animals. Some can withstand being alone for a long time better than others, maybe you feel like you’ve been handling it okay, but I know you’re lonely. You don’t have to make friends, but you can feel a connection without becoming completely entangled with other people.

Go to a sip and paint, get a little tipsy and laugh with the other people there. Volunteer and help animals or other people in need. Go to a concert. There’s a lot of places you can go and things you can do that give you interaction from a safe distance.

I think a lot of the reason why old people tend to get so miserable is because they can’t go out and do things as easily as they could before. Their bodies hurt, all their friends and a lot of their family are dead, and the world around them is morphing into something unrecognizable anyway, so why would they want to go out? I can’t stop the world from changing, I can’t bring your loved ones back from the dead, but you aren’t bedridden. The more you get out and see the world, the less different it looks - the less scary it looks.

Sometimes when I think about you, I realize I sort of created you in an old image of me. I was, and honestly still am, afraid of the way things are changing. Sometimes I feel like an old man already, just wearing a young face and feeling completely out of place. Nowadays though, I feel a lot of hope. I attribute a lot of that to getting out there a bit more. I’m still a homebody, but I can say that this year - despite how shitty the end of it was for me - has been a year of big steps forward for me. I wouldn’t be where I am now if I didn’t take a lot of leaps of faith.

I know you could say you are getting out there in your own way, but I don’t think fighting demons for godly favors really counts. I know you have a creative and loving side to you: feed it. Don’t let it wither and die.

I think that’s all I have for you. Sorry again, I’m working on it.

Yours truly,

Uh, me

___

This is about/to one of my characters: Kim. She’s an immortal and extremely angry woman. I think if we met face-to-face, she would actually kill me

She’s one of my favorite characters though. The idea of writing her a letter and giving her advice is kind of funny to me, which is why I decided to give it a shot.

Me when the 24 year old who made me tells me to go talk to people: 😐 right

[marbled-raccoon]

Day 16

Prompt: write a dialogue between two objects in a museum

This prompt and all I do come from this website:

Get a daily dose of inspiration with a year's supply of creative writing prompts. Daily writing helps you keep your writing goals. Learn how

Trigger warnings: uh…colonialism and racism, but not super explicit

Discussion of the writing at the bottom

___

A mannequin, wearing traditional South African armor, stands guard at the archway of the “African History” section of the museum. Right across the hallway, ironically, is the “European History” section. Guarding that section is a suit of armor.

EA: Good morning again, sir.

SAA: Ndi dzulela u ni vhudza uri ndi mufumakadzi. (I always tell you I’m a woman.)

EA: *he clearly doesn’t understand what she’s saying* You know, I feel just rotten about our spat last night. What do you say we put it behind us?

SAA: A thi na dzangalelo ḽa u ita zwenezwo. (I am not interested in doing that.)

EA: …you know, you’ve been in this country long enough to speak the language. How are we to speak to each other if-

SAA: Ndi a pfesesa luambo lwaṋu. A thi na dzangalelo ḽa u ḽi amba kana u vha na vhukonani na inwi. Ni litshe nṋe. (I understand your language. I have no interest in saying it or being friends with you. Leave me alone.)

EA: See, I can tell you are becoming agitated, sir, but I can’t understand you. I don’t know how to rectify your anger if I don’t know why you’re angry.

SAA: U a ḓivha uri ndi ngani ndo sinyuwa. Ni litshe nṋe. (You know why I am angry. Leave me alone.)

EA: …we’ve stood across from each other so long and I never asked your name. What’s your name?

SAA: A zwi ṱoḓei uri ni ḓivhe dzina ḽanga. (You don’t need to know my name.)

EA: Ah…*he tries to repeat what she said, but sighs in frustration* I’ll call you “Langa,” how about that?

SAA: …

EA: I am Fulgentius. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.

SAA: U amba nga maanda. Zwi a netisa. (You talk a lot. It’s exhausting.)

EA: I have heard people say you should “kill your enemies with kindness,” so that’s what I will try and do today. *he clears his throat* It’s a lovely day today.

SAA: …

EA: Yes, indeed. I heard another class is supposed to be coming through for a “field trip.” Those children really need to wash their grubby little hands.

SAA: Vhalindi vhadzo vha fanela u dzula vho dzi sedza khwine. (Their keepers should keep a better eye on them.)

EA: Exactly! *he still obviously doesn’t understand what she said, but caught that she was agreeing with him somewhat* And taking all those “pictures.” *he shudders* Eyes take pictures too, you know.

SAA: A hu tshe na u livhuha lunako ho fhumulaho. (No more silent appreciation of beauty.)

EA: Precisely!

SAA: Muisimane ha khwine. (The Englishman is no better.)

EA: Right you are, my friend.

SAA: *she actually laughs at that*

EA: Ah, you've got emotions after all!

SAA: A ni vhoni uri ni pfala ni tshi nga ni dodo hani zwa zwino. Zwi a seisa. (You don’t see how stupid you sound right now. It’s funny.)

EA: *he laughs a little too and then sighs* Well, that was a lovely chat. I hope to get to know you better.

SAA: …

___

Disclaimers: I ran everything through google translate and double checked that it was saying roughly what I wanted it to say. I don’t speak Venda, which is the language the woman is speaking

I’m sure what this is commenting on (museums stealing stuff from foreign countries to put them on display) is obvious, so I won’t yap about that. I’m not super well-read about this stuff anyway, but, like I said in a previous prompt, if I was going to do more with something like this I would do more research to portray everything correctly