one day you think: I want to die. and then you think, very quietly: actually. actually. I think I want a coffee. a nap. a sandwich. a book. and I want to die turns day by day into want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friend, I want to sit in the sun, I want a cleaner kitchen, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else. I want to live.

- via duckbunny

Ten questions to ask a friend who just read your novel

Here are ten questions to ask that will not put your friend in a tough spot, but will still give you some useful input on your novel:

1. At what point did you feel like “Ah, now the story has really begun!”  2. What were the points where you found yourself skimming?  3. Which setting in the book was clearest to you as you were reading it? Which do you remember the best?  4. Which character would you most like to meet and get to know?  5. What was the most suspenseful moment in the book?  6. If you had to pick one character to get rid of, who would you axe?  7. Was there a situation in the novel that reminded you of something in your own life?  8. Where did you stop reading, the first time you cracked open the manuscript? (Can show you where your first dull part is, and help you fix your pacing.)  9. What was the last book you read, before this? And what did you think of it? (This can put their comments in context in surprising ways, when you find out what their general interests are. It might surprise you.)  10. Finish this sentence: “I kept reading because…”

Your friend is probably still going to tell you, “It was good!” However, if you can ask any specific questions, and read between the lines, you can still get some helpful information out of even the most well-meaning reader.

Source: Examiner

This is really useful advice, especially if the person you’ve shared your story with hasn’t had much/any experience critiquing. 

It does a great job of asking for a balance of both positive and negative feedback in a way that’s comfortable for both the author and reader. 

Ooh, these are excellent, and I have a hell of a time coming up with good questions to get more than a cycle of “I liked it!” “Great, what did you like about it?” “…It was good?”

don't have the image template for the meme but "the rebelliousness leaving people's bodies when they feel weird about being the only person wearing a mask" do you ACTUALLY "not care what people think" or do you just want to dye your hair a funky color & put a be gay do crimes pin on your jacket & then refuse to go against the grain in any way that actually matters

People will say "I wanna be rebellious but I am scared 🥺"

That's okay. I'm scared too. I'm scared every single time. You have to do it anyways. Try your damn hardest and do it scared, feel uncomfortable that people will think you're weird and might give you shit for it. It will feel less scary the more you do it. But being actually properly rebellious and vocally anti-establishment is *hard* if you're not used to it. You wanna do it? Do it scared.

I'm not used to it. And it's hard and it scares me every fucking time. But I'm doing it because that's the person I want to be, and because someone has to do it so it might as well be me. And because if you do it, a person who sees you might feel a bit less scared about doing it themselves.

Obviously the original post is just about wearing masks in airports, and maybe I'm being melodramatic, but like. The urge to conform is, at least for me, very strong. And even in small things, it takes active effort for me to do the shit anyways.

You gotta start somewhere.

a friend asked me how I do quick colors in Clip Studio, so I made this!! well, actually they wanted a video, so I’m trying to figure a way to record one, so in the meantime there’s this.

this is specifically for Clip Studio Paint/Manga Studio, which is a lovely program I’ve come to like a lot! if you’re like me and tend to worry too much about details, this is a nice way to try something quick.

Steven Universe ended on a great note, but now I just really want a spinoff series about Steven travelling across America and inflicting his own brand of weirdness on people

“So this guy walks into the diner. I say ‘guy’ because I had no idea how old he was, he was either a very tall child or a babyfaced grandpa. He’s wearing a bright pink varsity jacket and flip-flops, and when he’s done breakfast he gives me a fifty-dollar tip on a five dollar breakfast. So now I’m thinking, ‘Oh, I gotta know more about this guy,’ and I ask him what he does for work.

“And this guy looks at me, and he looks like the oldest man in the world, and he says, and I quote, ‘I used to run a school but I retired because the stress was killing me,’ and walks out. I think about him maybe once a week.”

“I really love being a creator sometimes. Last week I was at a local con, selling enamel pins and this teenager - I think he was a teen, but he looked like a giant toddler - comes over in his gaudy-as-heck pink jacket. Face is fresh as morning dew but he’s got a real tired look in his eyes, until he sees somehing out the corner of his eye that makes him light up. Like I swear you could see stars in his eyes. Things is, I used to be big into a silly show called Crying Breakfast Friends and still had some pins left in the grab box. Never sold a lot of them cause the show was old by now and those were some early pins I made so they were not the best, but he goes absolutely feral over them so I say he can have them for cheap. He’s about to pay when he sees my other pins and their prices and insists to pay full price. I’m taken aback and for some reason try to argue, but he says “Look, you are not my moms, you can’t survive on love and light alone”. I sorta didn’t process that, but was more focused on stopping that boy from overspending on some crappy pins cause he seemed real nice and then he just follows it up with “I get it. You don’t think they are as good as the other ones, but you put the same work into them as the others. They are an important part of how your art became yours and that’s why they are some of the most important pins you ever made”. This kid nearly made me choke up and I gave up argueing against getting more money.

So we start talking about CBF. It felt real good to talk about something that you thought only you cared about with someobdy else and we really got along. And the kid used to be a superfan, used to make reaction videos and fanart and roleplayed with his breakfast, even made breakfast OCs. The last thing he didn’t really want to talk about, because he got real quiet all of sudden. How can breakfast hurt you that bad? But I managed to cheer him up by saying I’m gonna make more CBF pins and would send him some. He was super grateful and told me to send it to the beach of his city. I wanted a real address but he said the postwoman there would know what it meant.

And just as he leaves he say “My therapist said I should reconnect with the things that make me happy to combat my PTSD and existential dread, so thanks, you really saved me here” boy you’re 16, ur welcome but what the hell?

UPDATE: I found his tubetube account and yeah, there’s all the reaction videos but also he apparently used to be part of SADIE KILLER AND THE SUSPECTS like he played a bit of guitar with them and documented their sessions and uploaded them AND HIS DAD WAS THE MANAGER THAT LAUNCHED THEM BECAUSE HE ASKED HIM TO DO IT wat? I have so many questions. Like did the rockstar life give him PTSD before they even got big? Does he have a dad and two moms? was his dad his mom? is this a trans thing? who is that sweet boy?

SECOND UPDATE: Apparently his dad is an underground rock legend and a millionaire cause his song appeared in a sprite commercial. I’m done. How are people real”

from the blog of a pin designer

Too sleepy to do a year-in-review! But I have wanted to share this piece from October! 💖✨ Happy New Year's Eve everyone! 💕✨💖

there’s got to be at least one trans woman named eve out there whose deadname is adam. and she’s the funniest person to ever grace this earth with her presence.

I feel so appreciated :3

WE FOUND HER!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD SAID ADAM AND EVE SO SHE WAS BOTH

I said this same thing! Except I’m also bi so I add to it a little 😇

Oh hey idk why it says I deactivated. I just changed my name. Still here babes 😎

Looking through your Ao3 bookmarks and seeing that little “This has been deleted, sorry!” is like finding a gravestone, but the writing’s too worn down to read what it was standing for anymore.

What were you, Bookmark #336… What stories did you tell? Which words were it that once left a mark on my soul?  *touches my laptop screen like it’s text from an ancient ruin*

Cowabummer. 

i definitely think minecraft won't be the game for everyone in the end and that's just how things are no problem but i do think *some* people who don't get the hype of it just need to play with their friends and build a house with them. its also for doing things like this.

.

whatever i guess nobody've read that so imma just drop the screenshots

no reaction???

Why would you do that to someone's house.

Fuck yeah shenanigans

Peter Lukas I believe

Absolutely bonkers that I'm now one of those weirdos you hear about on Twitter

I committed to the bit so hard that I also committed misdemeanor impersonation of a government official

oh fuck yeah. important social scripts

“Mom, there’s someone under the bed.” You bend down and see your son there instead and he whispers “Mom that’s not me up there!” You take a step back when someone tugs your shirt. You turn, your son is in the closet asking “who are they?” You suddenly hear him calling from downstairs “Mommy?”

You sigh, raising your voice so that all of your sons can hear you. “All right, everyone into the kitchen. Now.” Hearing a shuffle in the attic, you add, “Yes, Duncan, that includes you.”

You don’t see any movement as you go down the stairs, but you’re used to that. You know they’ll all be there by the time you walk through the kitchen door.

As usual, your children have all fitted themselves into the kitchen. The dimensions of the room are a little wobbly with so many of them present, but you’ve long ago learned to ignore how the laws of physics only occasionally apply to them. A host of little faces look up at you anxiously, and you smile gently.

“It’s okay, none of you are in trouble,” you reassure them. They relax - and how astonishing is it, that they trust you so much? You’re so proud of their progress.

One, however, still looks nervous. You beckon him forward, and he comes reluctantly, shoved by his identical older brothers.

“Are you new?” you ask carefully.

He nods, and you drop to one knee. “It’s okay, sweetie,” you tell him firmly. “I love all of my sons, even ones I haven’t met before. Ask your brothers, they’ll tell you.”

“’m here because I heard you were nice,” he says in a tiny voice.

You open your arms, offering a hug but waiting to let him decide whether he wants one. This child must have seen hugs before, because he flings himself into your arms and starts crying. That’s good. Some of your sons are traumatised from what they’ve seen, knowing more slaps than kisses.

Eventually, the sobs dry up, your other kids patiently waiting for your attention again. “Why do we look like this?” he asks, curious.

“Because this is what the first of you looked like - Wilson, where are you?”

A hand raises from the crowd and waves energetically.

“Wilson took on my son’s form to play Child or Double. Calling from downstairs when my son was in bed, getting tucked in when the child I bore was playing out in the garden. Once I figured it out, I hugged him and told him that as far as I was concerned, I now had twins. It took him some time before he believed me.”

Wilson shrugs unrepentantly.

“When my son died, Wilson stayed. It helped, having one of my sons with me while I grieved. Then another of you began to turn up, and I had twins again. Then more. Until now, when I have more of you than will technically fit in my kitchen.” You give your sons a look of motherly disapproval, but they only giggle. They know you don’t mind.

“It’s not like you need to feed us!” calls out one of your bolder sons. Eric, probably. Your newest, unnamed child looks up hesitantly, then steps out of your arms to join his brothers. Lucas might be a nice name, you think idly. You don’t have a Lucas yet.

“That does help,” you admit. You put steel into your next words. “However, there are Rules in this house, and one of them is no messing around at bedtime. I know that bedtime is a traditional time for the Child or Double game, but four of you is pushing it.”

You’d say more, but there’s a knock at your back door. You turn to answer it, knowing that your sons will have evaporated before your fingers grasp the handle, and brace against the cold night air as you pull the door open.

Two identical little girls stand there. One has a bruise on her cheek, and has clearly been crying recently. The other - the other is a Doubler, just like your sons. After this long, you can tell the difference.

“Please,” the Doubler says, and her voice trembles on the word. “Please. She needs somewhere to stay.”

Part of you is shocked, already looking ahead to the potential legal issues. The rest of you is all mother, and you whisk her into the nice warm kitchen and get her a glass of water.

Your son’s bed will be occupied by someone else tonight. You think he’d have been okay with that.