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A hint on the quest of writing
This one’s long overdue, but consider the feelings your trying to instill in someone. It’s important to consider overall but a good example where it especially important is horror stories. Reread over yours words, or have others check them. Your never going to get the feelings of dread or tension right on your first try, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore them either.
This hint has been read.
Writing tip.
Plan out your mysteries before you right them, please plan out the clues, twists, red herrings, and general plot. Make sure it all makes sense in the grand scheme of things so that your readers can draw the conclusion you want them too. I’m telling you that you need to plot out your mysteries. It’s REALLY NECESSARY PLEASE DONT MAKE MY MISTAKES PLE-
Writing tip over
Writing tip to those who care.
Write stuff. It will always be hard to take the time to sit down and write, but your ideas are something that somebody out there would love to read. Try your very best to take even five minutes of your day to sit down and write.
To those who care, it’s over.
YES THANK YOU
All I'm saying is, if a fic refers to characters by their physical attributes instead of their names or pronouns ("he smiled at the older" "the blonde laughed") when we know who the character is, and ESPECIALLY if the descriptions include "ravenette" or "cyanette" or other ridiculous words--
I'm clicking out of that fic so fast my AO3 history won't even register I've been there.
Thank you for existing
Anger:
Grinding teeth
Narrowing eyes
Yelling
A burning feeling in the chest
Heavy breathing
Unjustified or justified accusations towards other characters
Jerky movements
Glaring
Violence
Stomping
Face reddening
Snapping at people
Sadness:
Lack of motivation
Messy appearance
Quiet
Slow movements
Crying
Inability to sleep
Frowning
Red eyes
Isolating oneself
Fatigue
Not concentrating
Keep reading
The way my writing improved dramatically when I switched from writing M/F to F/F needs to be studied I think
Watching old AJR concert is my secret to writing
Cluck. Jo looked down, one foot raised. Underneath sat an orange and white chicken. It tilted its head at Jo’s foot, blinked beady black eyes, and clucked again.
“Is that-”
“Roast!” A deep voice called. Surprisingly, the chicken answered. It flapped its wings as it went running down the path. The chicken named Roast squeezed between two fence posts to dutifully return to its owner.
“Sorry, we’re just passing through,” Jo called to him.
He put his hands to his pointed phyrra ears and yelled, “What?”
Jo walked closer. “We’re just passing!”
“Oh, well welcome. I’m Kho, this is Roast.” Taller than most phyrra, Kho was only a couple inches shorter than herself. He had sandy chin length hair, honey colored skin, and dark freckles dotting his face. A wispy beard decorated his chin and jaw. His clothes were dirty and patched over, and his hands were closed around a pitchfork that he set to the side to scoop up Roast. Kho lifted the chicken’s wing gently, waving it up and down.
“Hm,” Maven grunted over Jo’s shoulder. “Never seen that before.”
“Her brother Toast should be around here somewhere.” Kho looked around the yard, shading his eyes against the sun.
“Toast,” Lola echoed over Jo’s shoulder.
Cluck.
A brown and black chicken looked up at Lola from behind her. Toast drew back his head and pecked at Lola’s ankles with all his might. When she shrieked, Jo had to cover her mouth to avoid laughing. Not everyone else on the team had the same courtesy. Kho looked between them. “Where are you all… from?”
“We’re… well…” Jo trailed off, unsure how much to share with this random farmer.
“We’re headed from Lekonis,” said Lola carefully, “towards Ipbo. We hear they’re debuting airboats for the holiday.”
Kho looked between Glade sweeping their tail behind them to ward off attacks from Toast, and Iila, who was trying on her most winning, and most terrifying, grin. “Alright then.”
The sun beat hot on the farm. Animals were sheltering under woven awnings and lapping at water gratefully. Jo thought about her own empty canister. “Would you by chance have water for some friendly passersby?”
Kho looked apprehensively at the weapons at their belts and slung across their backs. He shrugged and waved them forward. “Thought you wouldn’t ask.” He didn’t sound happy; in fact, Kho’s voice was trembling.
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