#young author

[bluehairedgirraffe]

One of my least favorite things about being a writer is reading over stuff I’ve already written and editing it😭 this life called me but im not sure I want to call it back

[cheskaxoxo]

Greetings and salutations, are you interested in a book about LOVE, ALIENS, TRAGEDY, PROPHECY, MADNESS, AND a bit OF UNREQUITED SAPPHIC LOVE????

Then I present you FORGET ME NOT, my very book based on a small tale that I made at 11 years old a few years ago

The main characters are Ailuig Narc and Mapui Orow, two best friends from different species whom are known to be friendly to each other, two star sisters from clans with very different world views.

And a prophecy that tells who will become the leader of the universe.

But of course, some things are just meant to happen, for example, getting lost at a military graduation.

Read it, we already have 3 out of 21 chapters released, and the plan is to finish the book until december 8th.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[shooting-starzzzz]

Hey so I'm like.... writing a book

It's basically a collection of three different horror stories all the common theme of string a warning and ignoring it and I'm really excited and it will be called.........not saying it yet lol 😋.... I just started writing it

[julietteisreal]

When the ai detector says “100% ai” because I used an em dash

[witchofbutterflies]

The Butterfly Witch- Chapter Three: Where the Forest Whispers 🦋

The market was louder than usual.

Children darted between stalls with sticky fingers and pockets full of sweets. Merchants called over one another, advertising fresh bread, woven blankets, polished apples, and bunches of lavender tied with twine.

Liora had always loved market mornings.

Normally.

Today, every laugh sounded farther away than it should have. She absently traced the edge of the folded note hidden inside her coat pocket.

Remember the grove.

The words had followed her all morning like a song she couldn't stop humming.

"You've asked me the same question three times."

Henry nudged her shoulder.

"You alright?"

Liora blinked.

"What?"

"The apples."

"What about them?"

"You've been staring at them for a full minute."

She looked down. She was still holding the same apple she'd picked up several moments earlier.

"...Oh."

The orchard keeper chuckled.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Liora smiled sheepishly before setting it back into the basket.

"I'm sorry. My mind's somewhere else."

"I noticed."

Henry studied her for a moment.

"You've been strange since breakfast."

"That's comforting."

"I mean stranger."

She laughed despite herself.

"You've known me too long."

"Sixteen years."

"Seventeen."

"I was counting the year you insisted frogs could understand poetry."

"They can."

"They absolutely cannot."

"They simply choose not to critique it."

Henry snorted.

"There she is."

For a little while, things felt normal again.

They wandered between flower stalls and musicians. Henry had convinced an elderly baker to let them sample fresh honey cakes.

Liora bought dried chamomile for Eveline. A little girl offered Henry a daisy crown, and he immediately placed it on Liora's head.

She rolled her eyes.

"You look magnificent."

"I look ridiculous."

"Magnificently ridiculous."

She shoved him lightly.

An elderly woman smiled as they passed.

"You two make a lovely couple."

Both of them answered at once.

"We're not—"

The old woman laughed knowingly before disappearing into the crowd.

Liora felt warmth creep into her cheeks.

Henry scratched the back of his neck.

"...That happens more often than it should."

"It really does."

Neither of them mentioned it again.

By midday, clouds had rolled across the sky. The square slowly emptied as villagers returned home for lunch.

"I'm heading to Mrs. Bramble's," Liora said.

Henry sighed dramatically.

"Of course you are."

"I've finished my last book."

"You finished it yesterday."

"I know."

"You read too quickly."

"You walk too slowly."

"I do not."

"You stopped to pet three dogs."

"They wanted attention."

"They were asleep."

"They needed emotional support."

Liora laughed, shaking her head.

"I'll meet you by the bridge in an hour?"

"I'll be there."

He hesitated.

"...Promise you're alright?"

The question caught her off guard, and she softened.

"I promise."

It wasn't entirely true. But it was close enough.

Mrs. Bramble's bookshop smelled exactly as it always had.

Dust. Leather. Tea.

Home.

The little bell above the door chimed softly. Without looking up from her desk, the elderly bookseller said,

"You're late."

Liora frowned.

"I didn't know we had an appointment."

"You always come before noon."

Mrs. Bramble finally looked up.

"And you're usually smiling."

Liora tried.

Apparently it wasn't convincing.

"Hm."

The bookseller disappeared between towering shelves. A moment later, she returned carrying three books.

"I already picked these out."

"You know me too well."

"I've had twenty years of practice."

Liora wandered deeper into the shop while Mrs. Bramble wrapped the books. Her fingers drifted absentmindedly along worn spines.

History.

Poetry.

Gardening.

Travel.

Her hand stopped. One shelf looked… Wrong.

One book protruded farther than the others. She reached toward it. The instant her fingertips brushed the leather—

A rush of cold swept through her body.

The shop disappeared. She stood beneath enormous silver trees while butterflies filled the air like drifting snow. A woman dressed in ivory turned toward her. She couldn't see the woman's face, only gentle pale hands reaching forward.

Then a voice.

Soft.

Almost carried by the wind.

"Find me."

Liora gasped.

The vision shattered.

She stumbled backward into a table, books crashing to the floor and pooling at her feet. 

Mrs. Bramble hurried around the corner.

"Liora!"

"I'm fine."

Except she wasn't.

Her heart was beating so hard it hurt.

The book still rested in her hand. Unlike the others, it had no title.

Only a silver butterfly pressed into the cover.

Mrs. Bramble stared at it, heer face drained of color.

"...Where did you get that?"

"It was on the shelf."

"No."

The old woman whispered the word like a prayer.

"It wasn't."

Silence settled between them.

Neither moved.

Finally, Mrs. Bramble took a slow breath.

"I've owned this shop for forty-three years."

She looked directly into Liora's eyes.

"I have never seen that book before today."

Outside, thunder rolled across the valley. Far beyond Marrowind, hidden deep within the forgotten forest, another silver butterfly opened its wings.

Someone had been found. And somewhere, something very old had begun to wake.

♡🦋♡🦋♡

[melzie-the-manix]

Uh I feel so awkward doing this but hey my names Melzie, I write books for fun my main inspiration is Alice Oseman, but the book I’m writing is called “our own melody” following two boys called Jayden and Nathan, Jayden is popular for being in the student council and Nathan for being a football boy, but what happens when they become love interests for the school musical, we see them grow closer as the book goes on.

I want to share the story to the world piece by piece, mainly on tumblr ngl, finding people who like my story or who won’t feel alone

Lots of love Melzie

[arcofjoan-writes]

all of me hurts right now because I’m doing a show so I’m just gonna deal with that for a while but I’m so fucking excited because I only have five chapters left to write for my book and my first draft will be done in so fucking excited omg

It also just set in that that mean that it’ll actually be done. Like over. Like I’ll have actually finished it which is like… sad? Idk what this feeling is. It’s like I’ve been looking forward to this day forever and it’s not that I don’t want it to happen but it’s like. I can only describe it as. Parent watching their child graduate yknow? Like I’m so happy but also sad but in a good but also I don’t what it to be over but I I’m so fucking happy it is??? Idk