🕯️ i write best at 2am, in silence, with a candle burning and the ghost of my plot breathing down my neck 🕯️
not to be dramatic but… if the vibes aren’t unhinged and slightly haunted, i literally cannot write.
give me total darkness. the kind that makes your laptop glow like an ancient relic. give me a half-melted candle and a beverage i’ve already forgotten to drink. give me dead silence except for one creaky pipe somewhere deep in the walls. is the house alive? maybe. am i alive? unclear.
at 2am, everything hits different. suddenly the dialogue sounds profound. suddenly i care about the shape of every sentence. suddenly the side character with one line is spiraling about the moral consequences of violence and i’m like. yeah okay go off.
this is when the plot shows up like a sleep paralysis demon. not helpful. just looming. like “are you actually going to resolve that foreshadowing you dropped 40k words ago or should i start whispering again.”
normal brain hours? useless. my daytime brain wants snacks and pinterest and unrelated side quests. my 2am brain? feral. focused. haunted. she’s got blood under her fingernails and thirty tabs open about victorian funeral rites.
writing is a ritual. i’m not even kidding. if you’ve never lit a candle and whispered “please just let me get through this scene” like you’re bargaining with something ancient and unknowable, are you even a writer.
anyway. if you see me online at 2:17am, no you didn’t. i’m communing with my blorbos. i’m making plot decisions i won’t remember in the morning. i’m typing like a woman possessed. and i’m vibing.
here's a little excerpt from my WIP i'm working on. yes it's a romantasy, no it's not cheesy like fourth wing.
🕯️
