The Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Writing Forum. This is a remake of the original forum, and any enrollments are currently open! Come join us, it’ll be loads of fun :)
Galaxy girl is beautiful,
hair swirling with light.
Her eyes are dark,
but they glow with the mirth of nebulas
Compacting into planets,
beginning something grand.
I didn’t plan to fall
into the depth of the aether,
Lose myself
within her silver-space smile,
Dream of her laughter
like colored clouds singing.
I didn’t expect to find myself
in the wild untame
Of the outer atmosphere,
floating up into her unknown.
I’m going somewhere new,
into the uncharted reaches,
Regions unseen by my sheltered mind.
I hope she’s still waiting
for the day my spaceship is complete
and I can once again feel the way her fingertips
Make mine seem
like they’re made of stars.
A couple of NPCs here to help you track down giant flamingo herons. I was real lazy by the time I started working on Ylmir down there, she deserves better :{
I have decided that Discord is not the best place for a general writing discussion group. (I created a Discord channel, but it will be strictly to discuss my own original writing, so if that’s something you’d be interested in joining, my Discord username is Xennariel#5404.)
It would be too unorganized for a large group and I am terrible at keeping up with messenger conversations that get too big. Since a lot of people were actually interested in this and some also mentioned they don’t have Discord, I decided to go the forum route. If you do not want to join a forum, let me know and we can discuss what other options there are for creating this group.
Check out the forum and join if you want.
Everyone is welcome to join, not just writers.
I just set it up today so it’s not very fancy. If you’d like to be a moderator or anything, let me know.
The reason I have tagged the people below in this post is because you all either liked or commented on the post I made about a writing discussion group.
We sit silently salivating every second that trickles down
we are unbecoming or becoming.
I am perennially plagued by all the lives we are not living,
the dreams submerge me into parallel realities.
We yearn for answers, we yearn to be the chosen one, we yearn to be each other’s arms, we yearn to own our skins like the way our feet know way back home into our father’s embrace.
The shivering waves pool around our feet, you said affection is all that we need.
My skin transcends into a typewriter, lost in a consumerist existence, licking scoops of validation from the hands of the masses.
Where is my mother holding me in her arms her sari draped across my shoulders as she folds my pain into dawn.
We are chained in commercials of whitening creams, muscled men zipping, unzipping in and out of television.
The apologies get lost in translation, we are almost twenty and still haven't fallen in love. The world cashes out on our missing out.
Solitude is assumed to be a crescendo of loneliness. I have been trained to think that my other half is missing. The size of bed calls the eyes of pity.
Ocean recedes away, taking all the castles you built from the love you hoped to find, castles photoshopped into believing they will last the test of time.
I haven't been here long enough to be so lost, or is the other way around.
I have been misunderstood more than heard, is this what we do to each other, where is the life, life promises?
Remember the horoscopes on the Slam 2.0? Well, those were a big hit, so we’re bringing them back to 3.0! Head on over to our site and find out what the stars have to say about YOU.
Write a dialogue between two people who know each other, each taking the opposite side of an issue or problem. This should be a verbal dance, not a shouting match. The issue you choose should be something immediate and particular (like whether to spend money on a vacation or put it in the savings account) rather than abstract (Communism is going down the tubes). Keep it simple and emotionally close to the two people involved. The speakers should be equally convincing. That is you, the author, can’t load the argument on one side or the other.
Objective: To learn to use dialogue to reveal character and human dynamics and to understand that speaking style says as much about a person as their behaviour does. Incidentally, you should also recognize that dialogue should not be used for the following: for lengthy exposition, to furnish your stage, as a substitute for action, and as a vehicle for showing off your own vocabulary and education. A false line of dialogue can ruin an entire scene.
Cullen stands in the doorway, exasperation barely concealed behind a slipping mask of patience, currently engaged in a staring contest with a much shorter but no less determined opponent. She has made herself an immovable object, seated in the middle of the floor with legs crossed beneath her, arms folded, face upturned and defiant.
“Alright, dearest,” Cullen begins, with no small amount of trepidation. “It’s time to put on the dress now.”
“Nu-uh!” Ellie responds, plaintively, clearly expecting that to be the final word on the matter.
“Now now, we discussed this. You agreed to put the dress on for the parade.”
Her eyes brighten and she sits up with interest. “Horsies!”
“Yes, you’ll get to see lots of horsies. Don’t you want to look nice for them?”
Interest contorts to disgust, as she sticks out her tongue and points imperiously to the offending garment, sprawled across her bed. “I don’t like that dress.”
Cullen represses a sigh. “But that is the dress you picked.” He’s not sure why he’s bothering, but part of him just can’t help but point out the obvious discrepancy.
“No more. I un-pick.”
“Well, I re-pick.”
“No Papa, that’s silly! Re-pick is not a word!”
“Well, I suppose you have me there.” Maker save him, he was losing a battle of wits with a four-year-old. “I just thought you liked that dress. You refused to take it off all last week.”
“Stiffff-ing,” she echoes, still not quite getting her tongue around that “l”.
He lets her have that one, far too charmed by her mangling of the word to bother arguing. Maker knows who she heard it from - her mother, at first guess, though Varric is another likely culprit.
“Alright then. You don’t have to wear that dress, but you must at least wear something clean.”
The tunic she’s currently wearing is in an appalling state, the victim of too many afternoons with mud pies and mabari-wrestling. But her scowl returns, and he knows this fight isn’t over yet. She unfolds and refolds her arms more firmly, shaking her head no so emphatically it spreads to her torso, as her arms hug protectively over the soft and soiled linen.
But then an idea strikes him, and he leans forward, hands on knees, to bring his face closer to hers. She watches him, doe-wide dark eyes tilted up with interest, waiting for his next manoeuvre.
“What if I said you could wear my fluffy coat?”
The light in her face might as well come from the sun itself, as she grins ear to ear at that prospect. Yes, he’d thought that would do the trick. How many times had he watched her sneak into Mama and Papa’s room, stealing away with the mantle that had once been his most defining feature in his years at Skyhold? How many hours had she spent shouting orders in a higher-pitched version of his Commander voice at Cal, while he wiggled his tail eagerly and she drowned in the many folds of fabric?
“But we mustn’t get it dirty, do you understand?” he cautions, treating this as a most serious issue.
Ellie takes her cue from him, nodding solemnly. “I promise.”
“Very well. I’m going to entrust it to you for the day then. Let’s get you something nice to wear under it, shall we?”
“Alright!”
He straightens, but not before lifting her up into his arms, and together they approach her wardrobe to find something that is both not “stiff-ing” and also “nice”.
Second week's prompt from @nirikeehan's forum series.
Write two very short examples of text (250 words or less), in which the true meaning of the action or dialogue is hidden in a subtext. Under each text, write a sentence or two that explicates the subtext. Objective: To learn to use indirection to illustrate the power of hidden meaning. This is something like a double exposure – a photograph that shows two images simultaneously.
First Entry: Bull and Solas
Solas: How you can drink that with a smile is beyond me.
Bull: Not a tea drinker, Solas?
Solas: No, thank you. It is not to my tastes.
Bull: Yeah, I guess it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea. Heh. Get it?
Solas: Yes, very clever.
Bull: Hard to blame you. I’ll bet you’ve mostly had shitty tavern stuff - brewed in a hurry and not flavoured at all. Drank more out of necessity than real appetite. Have you ever tried the stuff coming out of Orlais? Give ya a whole new perspective on life.
Solas: What concern is it of yours whether or not I drink tea?
Bull: Just don’t want you missing out because of lackluster past experience is all. Don’t judge a whole flavour on a single cup. You strike me as a jasmine man. I could hook you up.
Solas: I… appreciate the thought. I think. But I am really not interested in having this discussion at the moment. And it’s really none of your business what drinks I do or do not imbibe.
Bull: Alright, consider it dropped.
Bull: (muttered out of earshot) Probably wouldn’t be so grumpy if you’d had a cup of tea by now.
Subtext: Solas thinks Bull is talking about the Qun. Bull is talking about sex.
Second Entry: Varric and Cassandra
Cassandra: You’re back.
Varric: You’re… here.
Cassandra: You thought I’d be out?
Varric: Yeah? I heard you were gonna be at the training grounds all morning.
Cassandra: It’s pouring out.
Varric: Never stopped you before.
Cassandra: Well, someone used to always nag me about getting sick.
Varric: …Right. Well, I can’t really stay. I just came back to grab—
Cassandra: —Bianca? She’s right where you left her.
Varric: So I see.
Cassandra: You expected otherwise?
Varric: I’ve seen you stab books with abandon. Couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t… I don’t know.
Cassandra: Is that what you think of me?
Varric: Cass, I didn’t mean—
Cassandra: —Stop calling me that.
Varric: …Sure. Seeker. I wasn’t trying to… Well. Guess it doesn’t matter.
Cassandra: (scoffs) Of course not. Why should anything you do matter? Then you’d have to actually care. Or Maker forbid, face the consequences.
Varric: (heavy sigh) Yeah okay. Make me the bad guy.
Cassandra: You do that well enough without my help.
Varric: This is exactly why I waited until I thought you were out…
Cassandra: To avoid facing the consequences?
Varric: To avoid a fight. And you’re not—
Cassandra: Enough. Just leave. And take your ridiculous infatuation with you.
Varric: …Yeah. Alright Seeker. Guess I’ll be seeing ya.
Cassandra: (says nothing further)
Subtext: This is how I imagine Varric and Cassandra’s brief romantic entanglement ending - not with a bang but with a whimper. Mostly because of Varric’s inability to truly move past his feelings for Bianca.
