consumer mania

Writing with Emotion

Every avid reader knows that the key to a reader’s heart is to write with emotion. It just seems like a story is worth so much more and there is more at stake when it looks like the writer poured their heart and soul into their work. Even if you don’t think it’s noticeable, even if it’s just the little details that show the emotion, your readers will share the passion if it’s there. Here are some ways to make sure you hit this nail on the head.

Consider how much experience you have with the situation. When we write, we find ourselves invested in the story because we’ve experienced pieces of it ourselves. Even if it’s not written out in black and white, we write what we know; find this seed and work from there.

Don’t be afraid to write your own emotions. You know the feelings are real when they’re feelings you experience while writing it. Let everyone reading know how you feel; put that pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and write everything you feel in this moment.

Consider your character’s emotions. What are they feeling in this moment? Whether or not they’ve experienced this before will give you some hints at their reactions. The possibilities are literally endless here, when the characters and their emotions are of your own creation. You decide how they react - because one way or another, they’re going to react. It could be by crying, screaming, talking, or bottling it all up. Nobody can decide this but you.

Let some of your emotions slip into the narration. After all, we as writers often relate most easily with our main characters. If they are feeling the same thing as us, let us know.

Use more than just dialogue. I promise, unless there are special circumstances, you’re character won’t be passionately talking about something and drop back to an emotionless stump the second they talk. Often they’ll have their thoughts on it - it could be an all-consuming mania if the topic matters enough to them.

That’s all I’ve got for you today, see you next time with another writing post! Until then, much love <3333
The Ties That Bind Us - Gotham
By Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Ed’s been struggling with becoming the Riddler after all the troubles it brought him. His suit lie tucked away but never forgotten. He itched to wear it again but was afraid of being consumed by the mania. That was until a gift from Oswald gave him some much needed control.

Word count: 13,862

Tags: Established Relationship, Supportive Oswald, Internal Conflict, Introspection, Memories, Reflection, Dom/sub, Post Oswald’s Return From The Dead, Oswald Is No Longer Mayor, Masks, Comfort, Metaphors, Headspace, Fluff and Smut, Referenced Past Childhood Abuse, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oswald Is The Softest Dom, Literal perfection, Love and Support, Honestly It’s Everything Ed Needs

Art commissioned from @selene-at-your-service. Thank you so much!

the way degrassi portrayed esme’s mental illness was so realistic imo the extreme highs and lows and the all consuming mania and then her final break in the end…mental illness is messy and messier if you don’t/can’t get help and i think the show did a good job of that with esme. that being said, i’m so so so happy she’s finally getting help and i hope she’s in s5 because i need to know she’s doing better.

falloutpuppies  asked:

hello i'm in love with your mania au i'm really into it so do you have any like. top 3 cool/interesting things you've thought of or want to talk about bc (like pete) i am READY to consume any mania au media fam....

let me see… we’ve been bouncing a whole lot of ideas around lately

1. when pete is taking on The Big Bad (TBB) he doesn’t honestly know what to expect but he goes in with the hovering knowledge that he very well won’t make it out alive. well, he won’t make it out the same no matter what happens in the end. but when he deals blows to TBB they also affect him just as strongly and just as badly because he’s a piece of the whole. all of the souls in his body he’s eaten and collected are threatening to combust, refusing to obey him and are erratically going in all kinds of directions. his monster rapidly changing and shifting violently beyond his control, wings springing from his back and spines shooting out like shards. this all on top of the hivemind he has with TBB coaxing his natural born instinct to return back to TBB and become apart of it again, where he belongs. so in that final fight there is a very real possibility that pete won’t actually break the prophecy or the cycle and very easily have to defeat the big bad by Eating It, destroying his own vessel and becoming TBB himself. 

2. if pete does manage to actually (somehow) defeat TBB and break the prophecy, it does directly affect him. he was attached to TBB so he has to feel and hear every excruciating moment of its death. on top of that he has to hear the entire hivemind crashing down, monster after monster being taken out piece by piece. the excess of the fragments that compose him hurt the worst and the whole world is spiraling around him. black ooze floods profusely out of his mouth, pooling on the ground under his hands as he hovers on hands and knees. it’s at this point he knows he’s going to die with it to break it, it’s going to drag him down with it, and he knew this was very well a possibility. breaking it didn’t mean surviving it.

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Warning:  Fanfic is bad for your health

an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind.
plural noun: obsessions
“he was in the grip of an obsession he was powerless to resist”
fixation, ruling/consuming  passion, passionmania, compulsionpreoccupationenthusiasminfatuationaddictionfetishcraze

So, I have a confession- I have an obsessive personality.  I can’t just like something a bit- it’s all or nothing, go big or go home, everything, everything, everything, to the exclusion of all other thoughts.  (It’s taken me years… almost decades, really, to work out that when I get really fixated on something, it’s most likely a sign that I’m… not mentally very well. It’s so obvious now I know.  I mean, look, mania is even listed as a synonym for obsession.  Anyway.)

This brings me to reading. I’ve always been an obsessive reader. When I read something really compelling, I read it and can hardly put it down until it’s finished… and then it ends (I’ll probably turn back to the start and read it again to be honest), and I’m left thinking about it.  You know the sorts of things I mean- the things that could have been slightly different. The things that characters didn’t say, or didn’t do, and the things that would have happened if they had said or done them.  The things that you know happened off the page, but you never got to see.   The things that probably happened after the last page.  Or probably didn’t happen, but they might have, because who knows?  The story is finished, so there’s no way of finding out, except in your own head.  

So when I finish reading I’m often left in a bit of an obsessive daze for a few days, maybe even a week or two, of thinking of all of those could-have-beens.  I know you think about these things too, because if you’re here it’s almost certainly because you’re a fanfic reader, and that’s why we read (and write) fanfics.  We want to see what happened next, and what happened differently, and what could have been if our much-loved characters met under different circumstances.   But if I’m reading a book?  Well, yes, I obsess for a week or two then I get over it and move on to something else, because what else is there to do?  The book is finished, the story is done, it’s the end.  

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A piece of artwork I made in response to what happened…
difficult to pin down… summer 2007…
July 2007 | Penryn, Cornwall, UK

When I look back and revisit the past, there were moments of epiphany when I knew things were never going to be the same. Meeting Shev was one of those moments - he taught me all that’s good about love. And I was watching the madness slowly consume him. The mania slowly crept up on him and was accompanied by newly found delusions of grandeur. It took about a month. The lucid moments became fewer and fewer, and it was like watching a long, slow, torturous, painful death. He felt it coming, ‘Sach, I know something’s happening to me I just don’t know what, but whatever happens, please remember I love you’. As his shadow-self emerged, his voice changed; and as his voice changed, the mania intensified; and as the mania intensified, he became sleep deprived; and soon he was caught in a loop tearing round Delhi trying to get it on with every woman who smiled at him for he was suddenly God’s Gift Incarnate. His most precious books along with my letters were torn up and scattered around the city that never sleeps. Sacrificial offerings to Shiva, the God of Death, Destruction and Reincarnation.

When he was finally brought round three weeks later, all that remained was a cold, closed heart

barely beating,

running on lithium

'questions of science;

science and progress

do not speak as loud as my heart

tell me you love me

come back and haunt me

oh, and I rush to the start’

It’s been five years and one month since Shev flew out of his burning bed to dance with Shiva’s dead. There’s not much left to remind me of us: one letter, a mug, a small picture of a naïve, or perhaps the word is native, dancing man, his Grandmother’s shawl, a handful of photographs, three silver bangles, Salman Rushdie’s 'Haroun and the Sea of Stories’ and four playlists, beaten with tears, scratched with wear and stuck on a loop. The second one we made together on my last night in India, 30th March 2007, and the last time I saw Shev. We called it 'A Moment a Minute aka Just Married’. That was just before I fell asleep whilst we watched Eternal Sunshine, our limbs effortlessly entwined.

For months, no, probably years those songs served as a conduit to transport me back so I could remember because I was so scared that I may forget. Today, five years on, I know I’ll never forget. The details have faded and lie dormant in my cells, but Shev often comes when I’m sleeping to that liminal dream space somewhere betwixt and between.

like a see-through mirror -- analyzing Jack Vessalius

So it’s in the midst of college finals for me right now, and I’m working on a psychology paper dealing with Borderline Personality Disorder, so I thought I’d write this up while I’m working on that. While researching, I came to find similarities between the disorder and Jack. I do believe that Jack has some components of this disorder that are worth considering when looking at his overall character, things that struck me as highly interesting. This is in relation from his childhood relationship with his mother, with Lacie before and after her death in retrospect, and his relations with others, such as Oswald, Alice, Alyss, Oz, Gilbert, etc.

Borderline Personality Disorder, or BPD, is defined as having “no sense of identity, so they attach very strongly to others and appear as if to adopt the other person’s identity. Then, when that person results as imperfect or leaves them, the Borderline explodes, acts out on others, self-harms or becomes needy.” BPD is also diagnosed as a “pervasive patter of instability of interpersonal relationships, self image and affects, and marked impassivity.” The following are the key signs and symptoms in relation to Jack that I will be discussing.

1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.
2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.
3. Identity disturbance; markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.
4. Impulsivity in at least 2 areas that are self-damaging (spending, sex, etc, etc)
5. Chronic feelings of emptiness

Granted, Jack does not have the more severe aspects of the disorder, such as chronic self-harm and/or suicidal ideations (except briefly as a teen). However, he exhibits some of the other primary signs and symptoms listed above. 

Throughout the series, Jack has often been compared to water, most notably by Oscar and Oswald. He has no sense of self, no reflection. Others can’t view him, can’t see him clearly, because they can’t gauge who he really is. Jack has also described himself this way, such as when he explains that he has no idea who he is anymore, doesn’t know which face he is wearing, and doesn’t know how he truly feels about himself or others. This is especially true in relation to Lacie.

It is easy to write off Jack’s feelings for Lacie as obsessiveness or just twisted dependency that stems from idealization. But that isn’t all there is to it. Obsession is defined as:


the state of being obsessed with someone or something.“she cared for him with a devotion bordering on obsession”

an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind. “he was in the grip of an obsession he was powerless to resist"synonyms:fixation, ruling/consuming passion, passion, mania, idée fixe, compulsion, preoccupation, infatuation, addiction, fetish, craze, hobbyhorse; Morephobia, complex, neurosis; informala bee in one’s bonnet, hang-up, thing "that new car has become his obsession”

Yes, Jack is obsessed with Lacie, and that goes hand in hand with BPD. Jack’s identity is completely defined by Lacie. Without her, he has no way to gauge who he is and is virtually no one if he is without her. He is completely and utterly defined by her, and has no concept of identity if she is not tied in with it. This is the classic trait someone with Borderline, who needs the identity of another to have sense of their own. Since they become so dependent on the other person, they may also adopt some of the other person’s traits. While Jack didn’t seem to do much of this, it is the concept that really matters. 

Jack doesn’t exactly do well with abandonment. Period. He expresses hatred towards his father and his mother for their physical and emotional abandonment towards him, but Lacie is, of course, the prime example of this. He goes to extreme lengths to see her again, searching for 8 years. After her death, he goes so far to try to bring the world to her just to have her close to him again. He has a moment like this with Oswald as well after he kills him, cradling his head. He’s even this way with Oz, when he asks if it’s okay for Oz to truly leave him on his own, appearing uncertain and hesitant. Whether it’s real or imagined, abandonment is something that Jack fears whether or not it’s a conscious realization. He is constantly surrounded by others and when left alone, he has no concept of self, such as his life pre-Lacie.

Jack doesn’t display hardly any suicidal thoughts or any intent to self-harm, but he does acknowledge that he didn’t care if he lived or died until he met Lacie. He is also this way after she died. He had no will to live. While it’s true that this can happen in anyone, this is a major reason why Lacie’s introduction into his life may have caused him to develop the disorder, if he didn’t have it already.

Jack has plenty of unstable and interpersonal relationships, however. Plenty. This is literally the entire series. Again, this is mostly centered around Lacie. It is especially noticeable in the fact that Jack idealized Lacie for a large portion of his life, and then began to devalue and hate her because he realized how much of his identity was tied to her. His other relationships are a bit less diverse, such as with his mother, Oz, Alice, Alyss, Vincent, Gilbert, Miranda, and Oswald most importantly. All of these relationships, while he may have felt something genuinely positive towards some of them, were all wrapped in manipulation, secret-keeping, goading, ill-intent, and more ties his own concept of self-identity.

Jack does have impulsiveness in things that are self-damaging. His relationships, for one. But the selling of his body for sex, even if it were done to meet Lacie and at Lacie’s own suggestion, reflects this. Even if certain things make Jack feel good, they are inevitably toxic to him and assist more in his derailment and lack of identity then they do shape him.

But the culture is a perversion. It fetishizes objects. It creates consumer mania. It preaches endless forms of false happiness, endless forms of false understanding in the form of squirrelly religions and silly cults. It invites people to diminish themselves and dehumanize themselves by behaving like machines.
—  Terence McKenna, “Culture is not your friend”

There was this day where I felt completely fucking manic. I was going through a really volatile situation with some people I love. My heart was destroyed at the moment and I was in the worst fucking state I’d ever been in. I had gone on a super long walk through my area and then hopped on the train to go to Dufferin Mall. It was warm outside but also cold and windy; like really fucking windy.

I had walked through the mall in a haze; feeling hella crazy. Like I felt this overwhelming sense of wanting to rob people and simultaneously jump right out of existence. I had to get the fuck out the mall. I came out the south west doors and had to walk all the way north to get back to the subway station. Randomly, Swim Good came on shuffle while I was walking and a HUGE gust of wind came and lifted all my back-length box-braids right off my shoulders and took it all into the air. My hair was flying everywhere, uncontrollably.. I loudly burst into tears as I listened to this man talk about exactly how I was feeling inside. I was crying and screaming and on the brink of falling down in the middle of the street on Dufferin.. I’d never felt that all consuming rage and fucking mania and understanding..

I was so angry and contemplative. I felt understood tho, and I felt comforted.

Thank you Frank Ocean for being there for me in a moment when I wasn’t there for myself and was thinking the wildest ways. Now where’s your next album nicca!?

“What civilization is, is 6 billion people trying to make themselves happy by standing on each other’s shoulders and kicking each other’s teeth in. It’s not a pleasant situation. And yet, you can stand back and look at this planet and see that we have the money, the power, the medical understanding, the scientific know-how, the love and the community to produce a kind of human paradise. But we are led by the least among us - the least intelligent, the least noble, the least visionary. We are led by the least among us and we do not fight back against the dehumanizing values that are handed down as control icons. This is something, culture is not your friend. Culture is for other people’s convenience and the convenience of various institutions, churches, companies, tax collection schemes, what have you. It is not your friend. It insults you. It disempowers you. It uses and abuses you. None of us are well treated by culture. Yet we glorify the creative potential of the individual, the rights of the individual. We understand the felt-presence of experience is what is most important. But the culture is a perversion. It fetishizes objects, creates consumer mania, it preaches endless forms of false happiness, endless forms of false understanding in the form of squirrelly religions and silly cults. It invites people to diminish themselves and dehumanize themselves by behaving like machines - meme processors of memes passed down from Madison Avenue and Hollywood…”

~ Terence McKenna