I mean, pretty much. It’s mostly just like, one thing though. Andee can get a little obsessed with a certain goal and tends to neglect everything else in the process. But it would definitely have changed the course of his life/the other characters’ lives, for better or for worse…
Cainen… definitely death lol. Or the opportunity to leave Forest Step, but he realizes he doesn’t really want to.
Andee is more fun. He gets the opportunity to have everything he ever wanted, but with a steep moral cost that he realizes he cannot pay. He tries, but the guilt eats away at him.
We love negative inspiration lol. My novel is half based in my sheer hatred for mainstream paranormal romance YA plots. I wanted to write a story that called out and subverted those tropes. And then I made it gay. Because everything is better when it’s gay.
White text on a black background. The word shortcuts is highlighted in green. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Fisher?" It takes me a moment to realize Mr. Smith is talking to me. "Fisher-Emmanuel, you mean?" I say. It feels important to have both names. If I have to write them both out on all my assignments and legal paperwork, then you don't get any shortcuts when you say it. All or nothing, baby. Scanning Mr. Smith's expression clearly tells me it was the wrong thing to say. "You think you're so smart. You think you can skip my class, waltz in here, and use my classroom as your own personal social hour?" "I didn't skip your class. I had therapy. The office has my note." "I saw the goddamn note," Mr. Smith spits. I feel a first small flicker of fear. "I don't know what kind of therapy session lasts five hours." "It's a bit of a long drive." "Sure, how convenient. Well I don't buy it. Do you think this class is a joke?" "Yes, sir. I mean, certainly not, sir." That, at least, gets some chuckles out of my classmates. I guess I'm well on my way to becoming the class clown. Mr. Smith is fuming. "Mr. Fisher, you—" "Fisher-Emmanuel. Two last names. Or you can just call me Cainen." "Well. Mr. Cainen, you can see me after class. I've had enough of your disrespect this semester." The class goes silent. I try to think of a witty comeback, but my mind goes blank.
Today’s #WIPsnips word is #shortcut. I only had one example in my draft. This is one of those “moments before disaster” scenes, for reasons I will not specify. Mr. Smith is one of very few characters I would call pure evil.
#wip #writing #queer #trans #fiction #ya #horror #mentalillness #writesky
Fascinating. Glad they’ve been mostly harmless! I think a lot of people gives ghosts and other creatures a bad rap. Sure, bad entities probably exist, but I imagine most are just lost, maybe looking for help, maybe just chilling in the beyond lol.
Sounds about right. Do you think they were malicious at all based on your experience? Or more mischievous/friendly (or a mix of both lol)? I’m always curious about people’s paranormal encounters.
Yikes lol. If your work actually was summoning demons (the odds are low, but never zero), I’d be impressed more than scared lol.
I like it; it’s a shame the editor did not.
Have you ever written a villanelle? I decided to write one once because I liked the name, only to find it was much harder than I anticipated. A lot of repeating lines, which can make it hard to convey meaning. Another fun one is a droigneach. Would recommend if you like challenging poetry forms! :)
There are several twist villains and one or two red herring villains. That’s all I’ll say about that… lol.
White text on a black background. The word rampant is highlighted in green. "Rules were made by those in power to keep us down," the girl says. "The conch shell is an attempt to control and silence us, to create an illusion of order in a world that thrives on chaos." "Lene, please," Dr. Howard says. "Let's keep things moving." He's gotten used to her pseudo-intellectual rambling. It's quickly becoming my favorite part of the week. "Sure, let's keep things moving. That's exactly the kind of thing an Anti-Marxists agent of rampant hyper-capitalist consumerism would say. Gotta keep the machine going. Keep up the status quo." "I bet she hasn't even heard of Marx outside of Internet forums," Wright says. I'm mostly glad no one else can hear him, but his increasingly-frequent quips have started to make it rather difficult to keep a straight face. I almost snort aloud. I dunno, I kinda like her. "Of course you do. You haven't read Marxist theory, either. I'm sure you'd get along great."
The #WIPsnips word for today is #rampant. Ironically, I just posted this snippet last week, but it was the only example of rampant across *both* of my drafts.
#wip #writing #queer #trans #fiction #ya #horror #mentalillness #therapy #marx #writesky #booksky
Glad to hear it! It’s a timeless classic at this point lol.
White text on a black background. The word mug is highlighted in green. Aunt Tracy is washing dishes. Washing one dish, over and over. Happy anniversary. There's coffee left in the pot she brewed, and I pour the remains into a mug for myself. Usually I wouldn't, as it doesn't mix well with my meds. But today I don't care about the side effects. The coffee is cold. Aunt Tracy has been up for a while. I don't bother heating it up. "Good morning, Cainen." The sound of her using my new name is jarring. Like a metal rod being jammed into my back. On today of all days. I fight the urge to crawl back to my room. Back into the closet. To keep living the lie that is Clementine. Keep being the daughter my parents wanted. Would they rather have a dead daughter or a living son? I guess I'll never know what they wanted. I know which option I'd prefer, though. The one that means I don't have to live without them. The one that means I don't have to betray their memory every day. Where I don't have to live with Aunt Tracy, or window shop for therapists, or move schools every year like clockwork. I'd take being a dead daughter over this in a heartbeat.
Today’s #WIPsnips word is #mug. This is from early on in the book, the anniversary of Cainen’s parents’ death.
#wip #writing #queer #trans #fiction #ya #trauma #horror #writesky #booksky #mentalillness #fantasy
White text on a black background. The word forums is highlighted in green. "Rules were made by those in power to keep us down," the girl says. "The conch shell is an attempt to control and silence us, to create an illusion of order in a world that thrives on chaos." "Lene, please," Dr. Howard says. "Let's keep things moving." He's gotten used to her pseudo-intellectual rambling. It's quickly becoming my favorite part of the week. "Sure, let's keep things moving. That's exactly the kind of thing an Anti-Marxists agent of rampant hyper-capitalist consumerism would say. Gotta keep the machine going. Keep up the status quo. ", "I bet she hasn't even heard of Marx outside of Internet forums," Wright says. I'm mostly glad no one else can hear him, but his increasingly-frequent quips have started to make it rather difficult to keep a straight face. I almost snort aloud. I dunno, I kinda like her. "Of course you do. You haven't read Marxist theory, either. I'm sure you'd get along great."
I’m a bit late, but here’s the #WIPsnips for today. The word is #forum. I went with the plural form. Featuring a scene from group therapy.
#wip #writing #fiction #queer #trans #ya #writesky #horror #fantasy #marxism #mentalillness
I loved that scene… which definitely doesn’t say anything about me as a child… Tobias was also my favorite character… which again, definitely doesn’t say anything about me…
Not officially, I have a few people IRL though. Not really there yet lol, especially on social media.
Hard to pick a favorite line, but I can pick a favorite joke… or two.
Featuring cannibalism and murder. Ironically, neither one actually explicitly shows up in the novel. Several behind-the-scenes murders, though.
#wip #writing #queer #trans #joke #murder #cannibalism #ya #fiction #writesky
There once was famous writer
Who had an idea inside her.
She turned to AI
And started to cry
When her own words came back to bite her.
#SciFiChat #WritingCommunity #AskAuthor
White text on a black background. The word “converting” is highlighted in green. Without thinking my fingers curl into a fist. I stretch them back out into a normal position. Don't get angry. Sadness is manageable. But rage? Rage is uncontrollable, damaging. Sadness won't kill anyone but yourself. Rage is how people become serial killers. Converting my rage into sadness is easy. It means I don't have to worry about lashing out and hurting people, or getting into fights at school over some petty comment. So instead of being angry, I'm sad. It's better for everyone that way. If I didn't, I'd have been expelled or in jail a long time ago. I don't know how long I spend asleep or awake, flitting between sleep stages like a ghost weaving between graves in a cemetery, dreaming and waking, nonsensical thoughts blurring between then and now. I am prepared to sink into an endless pit of despair— that's what being home alone is for, after all— but instead I find myself confronted by a thin shred of something resembling optimism, like the pale rays of sunlight sneaking through the blackout curtains in my room.
Today’s #WIPsnips word is #convert. I went with #converting. The other scene was one I think I’ve posted before, and I want to mix things up a bit.
#wip #writing #queer #trans #fiction #ya #horror #mentalillness #fantasy #writesky #booksky #rage
White text on a black background. The word sand is highlighted in green. I bite down on the thick, coarse fabric of the blanket to stifle the sob. It only makes the gagging worse. I swallow the acrid bile again. Choke it down. Keep it down. Bury it. Let it all crumble and fall, deep down into the bottomless pit of my subconscious where I don't have to think about it. Push it off the cliff. Push it down. Hold it under water until it chokes and drowns and sinks. One with the sand and the silt at the bottom of the sea.
The #WIPsnips word for today is #beach. I went with #sand instead. I’m pretty sure I’ve posted this snippet before, though, but enjoy it again if you’ve seen it before. Cainen is having a bit of a mental breakdown.
#wip #queer #trans #mentalillness #ya #horror #fiction #writesky #booksky #writing
I’m a little late, but Cainen spends almost the entire novel being a fool and then berating themselves for it later lol. He… makes a lot of bad decisions. Repeatedly. There’s a reason I made this gif lol:
People have been writing stories with ai/robotic characters in them for as long as the concept has existed. So, my logic is, I can probably write a chatbot that *sounds* like a chatbot without using an *actual* chatbot. That is the glory of the human imagination.
Something even funnier: I did not see your post about instant noodles, but for some reason, this post was recommended to me. I’m sure this means this post is bound to become even more popular, so good luck… you’ll need it…
Everyone else is just a human. Sometimes humans suck. Sometimes they suck and also don’t suck. Sometimes simultaneously. I think there are very few characters in my story who are all good or all bad. There are a few, who come close to “all bad” though. Both are school employees.
The corrupt school system (which at least 3 of the antagonists are directly connected to/in a position of power) is Forest Step. Then you have the immortal parasites (some of them are evil, some less so) and they’re not organized but they are the same kind of entity/follow the same set of rules.
2 main ones (unnamed for plot reasons), one other classmate, the entire school system, an evil therapist, a high school bully (her dad is the school’s corrupt principal), at least one teacher who is a power tripping creep, and of course the protagonist is his own worst enemy. There’s a lot going on.
Imprisonment (for me) works best as a force of self reflection. You are alone, forced to look inward… and you won’t like what you see. When you’re trapped in a cycle of reflection with no action… it’ll poison whatever good you have left inside you, forever dwelling on what you should have been.
There's a giant chunk of tech people who purport to be at the forefront of new philosophy, new thinking, who cannot fucking think their way out of a paper bag. Who literally are the fucking dregs of thought.