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Dragon Bones

@bonesofstoneandfire

blog to help me work on my original high fantasy novel. mostly references and links, with a sprinkle of inspiration.
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Big fan of characters realizing they don't get to die. They have to live. And grow. And be a person. And deal with shit they thought they'd never have to. And be fucked up about it. I would like more of this. Enough dying for honor or as redemption. It ain't. You're just a corpse. There is no moral value in dirt time.

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Today's Adventure is that I, after an unintentional 13-hour power nap,

  • Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.
  • OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg
  • Ok.
  • I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them
  • A hotel
  • An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away
  • A perscription refilled from 2 states away
  • and A Pizza
  • Go me.
  • But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.
  • So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards
  • #nailedit
  • It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.
  • it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.
  • by the way
  • it is already
  • over 100 out
  • it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone
  • when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.
  • he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.
  • He'll be fine
  • He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.
  • but
  • more to the point
  • i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside
  • has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??
  • And
  • I got other shit to do today.
  • namely.
  • I'm seeing a realator
  • The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons
  • I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her
  • at least
  • I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"
  • With the time typed in the middle like that.
  • She is, according to her profile, at least 80.
  • so I reply "😎👍"
  • and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.
  • She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms
  • It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.
  • in emoji
  • instead of like
  • literally any other format
  • I am
  • FASCINATED
  • and simply must meet the woman so if I don't come back to update I got stolen by the fairies but I'm taking the Corgi with me as protection so I'll see y'all later.

Update:

  • It's not fairies
  • It's Doris.
  • might be about to get a sewing machine and/or start an ACAB riot.

Ok, so:

  • I'm going to see a prospective house because due to various circumstances, I'm probably going to be moving to the other side of a major metropolitan area in the next few months, but that's not important.
  • I get to the house
  • I get a text from the realtor
  • The realtor is not the person who has been texting me in emoji
  • The person texting me in emoji is the homeowner, who the realtor says will let me in if I want, she's running late.
  • Sure
  • Why not
  • I put Herschel on leash and go to the front door
  • As much crime as he commits at home Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin has terrific public manners, and is Very Cute so I'm about 90% sure the emoji fairy is going to let me take him through the house
  • Door opens.
  • 90-something blue haired old lady with a spine like a question mark and glasses that could be used as telescope lenses opens the door.
  • "OH [Gallus]! How lovely to see you!"
  • This woman clearly knows me because she remembers my anniversary was last week and that my sister is back from Australia.
  • Problem is
  • I know about 500 geriatric ladies with blue hair, scoliosis and extreme prescription glasses, because I am a member of 2 quilt guilds, the scientific illustration guild, the rocky mountain SCA and stagehand for three different theater companies, so I know everyone's grandma and fuck me if I can tell them apart.
  • Wait
  • There's a quilt in thekitchen, visible front hall
  • I don't know faces but apparently I can recognize applique techniques at 40paces.
  • "...Doris? From SAQA?"
  • "YES! Who is this handsome little man?"
  • Herschel speaks enough English to know that "handsome little man" means "this person will feed me milk bones and bacon if I'm cute enough"
  • Immediately does a Sit Pretty and Shake.
  • Doris is bewitched
  • This is fine, but I also know I'm about to severely disappoint the realtor because there is no way in hell I'm moving into this House.
  • Because
  • The reason Doris is moving out is that her neighbor is a Cunt Magnifique and has been harassing Doris and everyone else to form an HOA and "improve the quality of our residents" because this woman has nothing better to do than be a racist-ass busy body, and recently, she's set her husband, a county sheriff on Doris, trying to bully her into signing paperwork and threatening her with legal action and writing her up for bullshit property violations
  • Ain't putting up with that shit
  • And neither is Doris, so she's selling all her shit and moving out to live with her grandchildren in Santa Monica.
  • But she's technologically impaired, so the only indication that there is an estate sale happening is a small paper sign in her front yard.
  • "Doris." I say, as Herschel makes himself comfortable on the couch for belly rubs and pieces of ham. "Did you tell SAQA or FRCC or anyone on Facebook that you're having the sale?"
  • "oh, I don't know how to do all that!" She sighs. "I tried to call the Denver post but they just put me on hold for ages..."
  • "Watch Herschel for 20 minutes and he's only allowed to have that one piece of ham."
  • Pics of everything
  • Address, time and pics to Facebook, both quilt guilds she's in, two more I have contacts for, nextdoor, and the local SCA discord for good measure.
  • It's 12 minutes and Herschel persuaded her to give him at least three pieces of ham.
  • He is petitioning for a fourth by doing a little puppy dance on the living room rug.
  • "OK, that's enough ham, people will be here in 10. Where is your cash box?"
  • Because apparently I'm running an estate sale today too.
  • It's fine :)
  • There's about 7 minutes of quiet.
  • Then
  • They DESCEND
  • The first on the scene is DeeDee, who doesn't believe in speed limits. She's arrived with a horse trailer. I remember that she is also moving.
  • "HI DORIS SWEETHEART WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS TODAY I WAS GOING TO TAKE ALL THIS TO THE GOODWILL HERE LET ME SET UP ON YOUR LAWN "
  • DeeDee is 73, and has a special spiritual bond with Hello Kitty. She weighs like 98lbs, dresses exclusively in neon pink sanrio clothes and the kind of eye makeup drag queens aspire to.
  • She also speaks non-stop at a volume normally associated with jet engines.
  • Half the horse trailer is already spread out on the lawn.
  • Doris is putting price stickers on stuff
  • Herschel is trying to tear open a bag of cotton batting.
  • This, and the arrival of approximately 56 minivans, five more trucks with horse trailers and Corgi Excitement Screaming alert Cunt Magnifique that something is happening outside.
  • Madame saunters off her porch up to Doris and Demands to know what's happening, you're supposed to notify the neighborhood and get a permit to-"
  • Doris, surrounded by her pack of silver wolves, shouts. "OH HELLO! EVERYONE, THIS IS MARCIA. I'VE TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT MARCIA." >:)c

... further details in a bit I think the Vikings are here.

~`* SOMEONE'S GETTING FIRED!!*`~

OK so.

  • You know those high school house parties you see in movies, where the person invites only a few friends, but those friends call their friends, and those friends call THEIR friends and soon like 500 people show up to one house and someone calls the cops and that one John Mulaney sketch with "SCATTER!" happens?
  • Old people will 100% do this too, except instead of a house party it's an estate sale on a wednesday afternoon and when the cop shows up there are lawyers present and he is in DEEP SHIT because his wife just spent the afternoon admitting to doing a bunch of wildly illegal shit on tape.
  • So when we left off, the party had really started getting underway, because Marcia the Cunt Magnifique had decided to crash the estate sale and whine about "we're supposed to coordinate garage sales as a neighborhood" and "your friends are blocking traffic on this cul-de-sac while nobody is home" weh weh-
  • DeeDee is about ready to throw hands but she is nowhere near the most dangerous of the Silver Silver Wolves.
  • That's Dr. Ruth.
  • Dr. Ruth turned 99 this year and went paragliding for her birthday
  • So you understand just how hard she goes
  • Dr. Ruth sort of hobbles over and point-blank asks "So I understand you've been trying to start a homeowner's association?" :3c
  • Marcia
  • Entirely misunderstanding how much danger she's in
  • Starts enumerating the TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS of trying to start one, because SOME PEOPLE DON'T RESPECT AUTHORITY and all the paperwork and talking to people and she even had to ask HER HUSBAND. A SHERRIF. To go around and hand people stuff to sign.
  • Some people, right?
  • Dr. Ruth nods. Some people. She agrees.
  • You know.
  • Her son is a lawyer.
  • Why doesn't she give him a call?
  • Marcia, a Moron: Oh that'd be great!
  • Dr. Ruth, hobbling back to Doris: "Don't worry. David will handle this."
  • Meanwhile
  • The Friends-Of-Friends and the Friends-Of-Friends-Of-Friends are arriving, lured in because they heard the words "Longarm Sewing Machine" and "Hand-made quilts"
  • Various factions present include but are far from limited to: -Probably Six Quilt Guilds -The Denver Art League -The Denver Leather League -The Vikings -The Klingons -The Colorado Wild Game Share -A Pack of Scientific Illustrators -A Pack of Assorted Scientists they brought with them -The Sheep Lesbians -The Horse Lesbians -Three Extremely Competent Finnish People (My Scientific Illustration Professor and her sisters) who immediately take over the estate sale and turn it into an auction to maximize profit and keep the taxes in order.
  • Someone brings two additional Corgi called "Cap" and "Bucky"
  • They are Pembroke Corgi, and weigh about 21lbs apiece
  • Herschel is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi and weighs 42lbs because he's hug even for a Cardigan, and is Delighted with his New Minions.
  • They worship him as a God and follow him around so every time he sticks his face in something two smaller corgi faces immediately follow, like some kind of adorable cerberus.
  • Pelts and meat shares are being traded out of the backs of trucks and vans
  • Someone is making bratwurst.
  • Intrigued by the Brouhaha, Doris' neighbors emerge.
  • They are also Geriatric and very nervous, because Marcia has been harassing them too.
  • They are telling this to the members of these factions that are also lawyers.
  • There are at least 5 of them so far and David isn't even here yet.
  • I realize my realtor isn't even here.
  • I decide to text her.
  • She is somewhere in the crowd and having a nervous breakdown because She's SO LATE!!!
  • Ma'am.
  • It's 103 out.
  • I was just handed a freshly grilled Brat
  • Some bitch is incriminating herself on the lawn.
  • Nothing scheduled is happening.
  • Come sit in the yard and watch the Corgis play on the Palyskool plastic slide set. They're disassembling it like tiny furry engineers.
  • Have a bratwurst.
  • One of the Klingons appears, having physically carried my realtor through the crowd, and gently deposits her on the lawn before handing her a Bratwurst.
  • Diane, the Realtor, is not much older than I am, and from the preppie swaths of society that has "Never had a dog growing up" and "Didn't Know People Could Just. Make. Blankets?" and "What is this? It's like a hot dog but spicy?"
  • She is having a LEARNING EXPERIENCE.
  • One of the Horse Lesbians comes over and compliments Diane on her Dior handbag.
  • Diane thanks her ans compliments the apparently expensive brand scarf she has on. Do you. Know all these people?
  • Horse Lesbian explains that she's part of the SCA, and what that is, and that why yes. Her girlfriend Tasha is an armorer. Yes like for knights.
  • More Livestock Lesbians assemble.
  • They are pulling off shirts to show off livestock and battle scars, and biceps.
  • Diane is LEARNING A LOT TODAY.
  • I am just getting everyone's contact info and making sure Herschel does not consume his weight in bratwurst.
  • BWOOP!
  • Uh-Oh.
  • Marcia's Husband is here.
  • I step out front.
  • He has used the siren to largely part the crowd and pull into his driveway but it has closed around him and there is No Escape.
  • He starts huffing and puffing about blocked traffic and permits and the like, but this is not his usual Can-Bully-Without-Consequences crowd.
  • These are Grandmas.
  • Veterans of the 60's protest front who never let up.
  • He's starting to turn bright red and looks like he's about to cry and I've got my phone out to record whatever Incident is about to occur.
  • -And a Mercedes pulls up.
  • It's David.
  • Dr. Ruth's son.
  • The Lawyer.
  • And I emphasize that The because David is not some mere ambulance chaser.
  • David is the guy that the state sends to prosecute Corporate Fraud and Organized Crime and Other State Departments.
  • David was part of the team that took down the CO Branch of the KKK.
  • David is all of 5'4", very round and a balding little man that looks like the Dictonary Definition of "Nebbish" that moves with such intense confidence and authority that he pretty much has the Pillar Men Theme Blasting behind him at all times.
  • So when he and three other lawyers from the state's office step out of the car
  • Mr. Sherrif goes from red to while like color-changing octopus and I am like 50% sure he shit himself.
  • Because what he and Marcia have been doing is Very, Very, Very, VERY, Fucking Illegal.
  • "mArCiA!" he garbles. "sHuT tHe fUcK uP!"
  • Marcia is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, having spent the last 3 hours recounting to anyone who will listen about the 'measures she's had to take' and now the 5 lawyers that were here are delightedly handing over the paperwork that she had forced on Doris and her Neighbors, and pointing at all the doorbell cameras and witnesses out to the state's top prosecutor.
  • Friends
  • I ugly laughed.
  • FOUR HOURS LATER: -Auction wrapped up with a solid $40K to Doris' name plus pending sales on some of her larger furniture and antiques
  • Plus whatever David gets in damages from the county sherrif's office.
  • Marcia and husband are fucking busted
  • Herschel spent all afternoon running around and eating snacks and is passed out on the floor
  • Diane is "meeting up with" one of the Horse Lesbians next week.
  • The sewing machine went to someone else but I did open my purse and found out Doris or someone shoved a bunch of cash in there.
  • I'm getting ice dream and going to bed.

I love this story. ^^

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aokozaki

God, what a cool fucking pair of cards. Especially these versions, with Kev Walker's art. Black and White getting the exact same effect, because the death of all fits both divine grace and unknowable horror.

And then Mr. Walker nails the fact that they're the same but different, with not just the inverted colors, but the way that Wrath of God explodes outwards, while Damnation draws all in.

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sexhaver
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ultrafacts

source {x}

Holy crap, it’s real, and what a story!

On July 26, 1959, Rankin was flying from Naval Air Station South Weymouth, Massachusetts, to Marine Corps Air Station Beaufort in South Carolina.[4] He climbed over a thunderhead that peaked at 45,000 feet (13,700 m); then—at 47,000 feet (14,300 m) and at mach 0.82—he heard a loud bump and rumble from the engine. The engine stopped, and a fire warning light flashed.[1] He pulled the lever to deploy auxiliary power, and it broke off in his hand. Though not wearing a pressure suit, at 6:00 pm he ejected into the −50 °C (−58 °F) air.[1] He suffered immediate frostbite, and decompression caused his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth to bleed. His abdomen swelled severely. He did, however, manage to make use of his emergency oxygen supply.[1] Five minutes after he abandoned the plane, his parachute had not opened. While in the upper regions of the thunderstorm, with near-zero visibility, the parachute opened prematurely instead of at 10,000 feet (3,000 m) because the storm had affected the barometric parachute switch and caused it to open.[5] After ten minutes, Rankin was still aloft, carried by updrafts and getting hit by hailstones. Violent spinning and pounding caused him to vomit. Lightning appeared, which he described as blue blades several feet thick, and thunder that he could feel. The rain forced him to hold his breath to keep from drowning. One lightning bolt lit up the parachute, making Rankin believe he had died.[1] Conditions calmed, and he descended into a forest. His watch read 6:40 pm. It had been 40 minutes since he had ejected. He searched for help and eventually was admitted into a hospital at Ahoskie, North Carolina.[1] He suffered from frostbite, welts, bruises, and severe decompression.

The second person was a paraglider named Ewa Wiśnierska

On 14 February 2007, in spite of weather reports heralding the presence of violent thunderstorms, Wiśnierska decided to try to fly in order to train for the 2007 World Paragliding Championships near Manilla, New South Wales, Australia. She was sucked into the ascending current of a cumulonimbus cloud, a cloud responsible for large and heavy rains, usually with hail inside and extremely low temperatures. Unable to get out, she was lifted to an altitude of 9,946 metres (32,631 ft), according to her GPS. The GPS variometer also tracked vertical speeds of up to +20 m/s (77 kilometres per hour (48 mph)).[4] She landed 3.5 hours later about 60 kilometres (37 mi) north of her starting position.
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a dying heretic in a broken and sealed church, with blood in his eyes and on his chest. to say one final thing, and to let it be known, that your god does not care for you. you will kill me in the name of it, and you will die in the name of it, and you will give more than your life for it. and it will give you nothing.

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vetyr

Anastasia

Another commission ;) I'm closing comms on June 1st by the way! They won't re-open until August, so if you'd like to make a request or ask about pricing, shoot me an email (silverthegold@gmail.com).

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abalonetea

my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now

?????? *raises hand* I’ve been writing for years and don’t know this trick by these words! do tell?

Okay, so a few people have asked for me to cite the dark magics at them, and i’m super happy to share because it’s my favorite thing ever. 

so, let’s see if i can explain this the same way that i learned. read a sentence out loud. you come to a full stop when you hit the period, and you take a normal, breath. but, when you hit a comma, you take a slightly longer pause. and when you hit a dash - you take an even longer pause. 

this is a natural rhythm that we pick up when we’re first taught to read; we do it without even thinking. but when you start to think about it, you realize that it can become a tool.

think of your heartbeat. a period is badump. a comma is badump-dump. and a dash is thump badump. one breath. a longer breath. two breaths.

that means what you read automatically affects the rhythm of your breathing and your heartrate. which means that you can control the amount of physical tension your reader feels… by altering your punction and your sentence structure.

for fast paced scenes, you use short sentences. a lot of hard stops. mostly periods, with just a few comma’s thrown in for the full breath. your reader’s heartrate accelerates. their breathing is slightly and unintentionally, on their end, quicker. you hit the dramatic ending of the scene - and your reader’s body phsyically feels the gasp, the breath of fresh air, of these longer sentences.

now, read that paragraph again ant take note of your natural pauses, and how it subtly affects your breathing. 

the same thing can be said of comma’s and dashes. while they can be used as a breath of fresh air, they can also cause a new line of tension as they lead your reader to hold their breath. during this section, you should use longer sentences; breaking up the harshness of the pauses by using variations of punction. read this paragraph out loud from the start and take note of how long you go between pauses and full breaths. 

and then, comes the biggest trick.

the hard stop.

the paragraph.

because while the periods, commas, and dashes are variations on a short stop, the paragraph is a hard stop. you take a full breath. you pause for a moment, then move to the start of the next paragraph.

which means you can create an entirely new sort of dramatic tension. read the sentences that are in bold. see how you take a naturally longer pause at the end of each paragraph?

see how it makes you feel? 

how it makes you breath different? 

how doing it once, twice, or three times creates a different line of tension? 

this little magic trick can be used to cause a reader’s heartrate to speed up during a fight or chase scene. it can be used to cause their breathing to slow down during moments of dramatic tension, sorrow, or softness. and it can be used to create hard breaks that add a new level of physically felt emphasis to your written work.

i hope these examples make sense! it’s my favorite writing trick!

forgot to mention this, but a lot of really long run-on sentences can also cause your reader to hold their breath, as you only take natural pauses with punctuation. 

bright summer sunlight cut in through the trees but all i could think about was the way that his body had looked, strewn out on the floor.

you don’t take a ‘breath’ until you hit the comma.

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wow millennials are glued to their i-phones and laptops so much they cant even be bothered robbing in person anymore!!! maybe these trust fund babies should stop phishing credit cards while sitting on their butts and go out there and put some elbow grease into their thievery!

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thesnadger
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weaselle

I know exactly what happened. Because it happened to me.

I trained for years to be a con artist. I told my friends and family that I wanted to be a magician, but that was just a cover for why I was constantly practicing sleight of hand. 

In junior high and high school, I would shop lift a bunch of candy on my way to school, sell it to kids at the morning break, and use that money to run a crooked poker game at lunch.

Finally, when I was 19 or 20, I felt I was ready, and I picked my first pocket. I was on the bus, bumped a guy as I passed down the aisle, got his wallet, super clean.

In the wallet was several hundred dollars. A huge first score, I had been hoping for a couple twenties. I sat there looking at the, like, 400 bucks, thinking.

That was my rent at the time. We were both on the bus. It was likely his rent too. Lord knows the only reason to carry that much cash on the bus is you’re on your way to pay a bill. We were both on the bus, you know? That’s not someone I was comfortable stealing from.

I tapped him on the shoulder and told him “hey i think you dropped this” and gave it back to him with all the money still in it. It was the first and last time I ever picked a pocket.

Picking a rich person’s pocket is a loosing game. They probably have credit cards and not cash, those credit cards probably have the best anti-theft measures their bank can provide, and you probably can’t get close enough to those people to pick their pockets unless you’re already rich yourself.

The people who’s pockets you can reliably pick are the people around you. The people who are also on the bus, who are in this same shitty situation with you.

As wealth inequality becomes more drastic picking pockets has very clearly become “stealing from other poor people” and it’s not satisfying. I want to steal from Google and Apple and Fox and Facebook and General Mills and Hershey and Tesla. Not the person next to me.

Wow. This post went from funny to a life lesson in a way I wasn’t expecting, amd I’m not sorey at all.

See, unlike the capitalist elite, common criminals have a sense of morality and empathy.

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WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}

  1. E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;
  2. Hiveword - Helps to research any topic to write about (has other resources, too);
  3. BetaBooks - Share your draft with your beta reader (can be more than one), and see where they stopped reading, their comments, etc.;
  4. Charlotte Dillon - Research links;
  5. Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;
  6. One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;
  7. One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!
  8. Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;
  9. National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;
  10. Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;
  11. Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;
  12. The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;
  13. Reedsy - "A trusted place to learn how to successfully publish your book" It has many tips, and tools (generators), contests, prompts lists, etc. FREE;
  14. QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);
  15. Pacemaker - Track your goals (example: Write 50K words - then, everytime you write, you track the number of the words, and it will make a graphic for you with your progress). It's FREE but has a paid plan;
  16. Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;

I hope this is helpful for you!

(Also, check my blog if you want to!)

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sexhaver

i unironically believe electricity is the closest thing we have to magic in this universe. consider:

  • it's basically what human "souls" are made of (your consciousness is the result of miniscule amounts of electric charge jumping between neurons in your brain)
  • when handled incorrectly or encountered in the wild, it is a deadly force that can kill you in at least half a dozen different ways
  • when treated respectfully and channeled into the proper conduits, it is a power source that forms the backbone of modern society
  • if you engrave the right sigils into a rock and channel electricity into it, you can make the rock think
  • there is a dedicated caste of mages (electrical engineers) tasked with researching it in ivory towers
  • whatever the fuck Galvani was doing with those frog legs
  • look at this and just try to tell me it isn't a kind of summoning circle