I feel like the ks community has not been as active lately….I don’t want to watch the fandom slowly die before the series is even finished…..what happened??? There’s barely any new fan fiction and fan art……I suck as a writter, but I’m thinking of making shitty fics just to make ao3 less empty….
I really really love your old Don't hug me I'm scared stories on Ao3, they are my very favorite to read. Do you have any tips for an aspiring writter? I'm only 14 but I really want to be a writter some day, I write a lot of fanfiction but I don't think they're very good and they never get more than one or two reads and never any comments. I'm not sure what I can do to improve myself. (Sorry I hope my English is okay.)
Thank you so much for your message! I’m glad
to hear that you like my stories, and I’m very flattered to be asked for advice. It got me thinking, and I ended up writing out a LOT so I’m sorry for how long this is, but bear with me:
Read Read Read. The only way to
be a good writer is to be a good reader.
That’s really my best advice for anyone. Read as much and as widely as you can.
Style & Language:
Start in the middle of the
action (google in media res)
The more you practice the more
you’ll develop a voice of your own
Think about tense (past or
present?) and about point-of-view
Who’s telling the story? What
do they know? What do they observe? What kind of vocabulary do they have and
what does it say about their personalities? (e.g. Tony’s language is always more
archaic and formal than Paige’s, because he’s more uptight)
Is your narrator reliable, or
fooling themselves, or fooling the reader?
- Get a great opening sentence to catch the reader’s attention, and a closing sentence that gives some emotional closure to the story.
Keep it simple, and keep your
dialogue believable. The best advice I read about that was a writer named Sarah
Bunting saying that someone should be paid to sit down with writers and repeat
and repeat the words People Don’t Talk
Characters & Plot:
“Every character should want something,
even if it’s only a glass of water” – Kurt Vonnegut
Make your audience do the
work. Don’t spell everything out. Drop
hints. Instead of saying “Bob felt nervous and scared to speak up” say “Bob
shuffled his feet and cleared his throat twice before speaking”
That being said, if you do
drops hints, make sure they pay off later (see Chekov’s gun)
The mood of the story is just
as important as the plot. What kind of emotions do you want your readers to
feel? I’d say it’s more important for the reader to feel satisfied even if
there are some plot holes.
There are a lot of boring books
and movies where “the fate of the whole universe is at stake” – but if the
characters don’t act like they care, neither will the reader.
What’s more dramatic, a bomb
under the table that explodes suddenly out of nowhere, or a bomb slowly ticking
under a table that only the audience knows about?
“Not “A happened, then B happened” but “B happened, because A happened””
- Film Crit Hulk
Some of your stuff you’ll like better than
others. That’s fine. That’s normal. I’ve written lots of stuff I really don’t like. You
can always put it away and write something new. Write one scene. One sentence that sticks in your mind. Have fun.
about notes or reblogs. They don’t mean that you’re not talented.
Being in love is great, don’t get me wrong. The kisses, the “I miss you” hugs, the cuddling, the love. Everything about falling in love is what makes a person remember how great it feels to have butterflies in your stomach and to have your heart beat so fast that your chest is going to explode. Being in love with someone is amazing. But being in love with your best friend, god that is fucking the best thing I could ever ask for. Being in love with the person that makes you laugh so hard that you nearly have snot coming out your right nostril and makes your stomach turn inside out. Being in love with the person that you share secrets with and gossip about people with, the person that says “fuck her baby, she don’t know a damn thing” kind of best friend. The person that you can lay next to at night and can’t sleep until 3 am because you were talking about how people can’t learn their damn differences between they’re, their, and there, and then laugh about it. The person that you argue with about what kind of food you want to eat, or who’s going to be the one to get up from the bed and turn off the light. The person that you can lick their face and they won’t look back at you with a confused face, but sticks their finger up your nose. The person that won’t only being the shoulder to cry on, but the shoulder that will bring you back up and make you stronger than before. The person that will tell you whats wrong and whats bothering them instead of being distant and ignore the situation. Loving someone that you can share memories and laughs with, god it is beautiful. Being in love is great, don’t get me wrong. But being in love with your best friend, that is the most wonderful thing I could ever ask for.
I want you to know that you ruined me. That I don’t know if I can recover from this.
This isn’t me being dramatic or trying to make you feel bad, this is me putting the cards on the table and telling you that telling me you were different and that you would love me despite my flaws, and then throwing my insecurities in my face was cruel.
You hurt be beyond repair, I will never be the same. I will mend the wounds but the scars will remain a painful memory.
dear myself, note this;
you shouldn’t feel sad on times when he doesn’t call or times when the conversation runs out of topic and finally comes to an end,
you shouldn’t feel so miserable on times when his name doesn’t pop up in your phone anymore even though he himself still pops up in your head 24/7,
you shouldn’t feel sorrowful on times when you look at him but he’s not looking at you first like he used to do,
are you happy when you see a rainbow? do you feel sad when it is finally gone? have you ever assumed it as yours?
i. I know I told you this, but I haven’t heard from you in a while and I just wanted to remind you that I left the ball in your court. That I will sacrifice my happiness and give you another chance, all you have to do is reach out and tell me you don't want to throw this friendship away.
ii. So by the looks of it you are having a lot of fun with your new friends, don’t get me wrong I’m happy you found happiness. But I just want to make sure that this isn’t you escaping your past and letting these new friends be a band-aid for old wounds. I am here if you ever want to talk.
iii. I miss you. I can’t believe this happened again, that after reconnecting you chose to put me second again. You hurt me more than I thought. And I know I told you that you were hurting me, and you said you were sorry; but are you?
iv. Do you miss me? Or have you replaced me enough to forget me? Because I worry about you every day, your state of mind and if you’re being kind to yourself. But when I picture how you’re spending your day, I can't imagine you missing me.
v. I am no stranger to the notion of people leaving me. I have been told ‘forever’ only for 'forever’ to expire later on. This isn’t new for me, missing people is almost routine for me. But you linger more than others. You creep up on me.
vi. I thought I would be able to move on, because you hurt me so bad. But turns out you too are a bad addiction of mine that I just can’t shake.
Texts I would text you if I ever got drunk enough and brave enough.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader; Sam x Reader (friendship)
A/N: This is my first [published] fic, was not requested obviously, just something that has been around on my mind. I am thinking about making it a series with part 2 in Bucky’s POV. Feedback is always welcomed let me know what you think!
Summary: You are new in the tower and have a crush on Bucky, but he does not feel the same way and you overheard him.
Warnings: lots of Angst, Bucky being sort of a douche, alcohol consumption (?)
“That new girl, Y/N, is pretty cute don’t you think?” Sam said. You were currently hiding in the corridor, not that you were purposely eavesdropping, no, it happened by chance, you were walking to the kitchen feeling like doing some experimental cooking, your spirits were high you had a good week and you were almost skipping through the tower when you heard voices. Sam and Bucky chatting. About women. You needed to know, because it was undeniable to you now that you had a huge infatuation on Bucky, only after a week. Granted the man was a beautiful specimen of male perfection but it wasn’t just about that, the way he moved, the way he spoke, damn it Y/N get a grip
You arrived at the tower as a new administrative assistant, hired by Tony after an extensive background check. Working with Tony Stark was pretty much a career dream for you, little did you know it also came with the perks of living in the tower and getting to know the Avengers. Rent for free, a generous paycheck, how could you resist.
Back to the present, Sam Wilson seemed to be teasing James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes about you, you almost squealed in delight, but you kept quiet. “Nah, I have seen prettier” Bucky answered. Your heart sank, yeah, you were no Black Widow, but you weren’t ugly, were you?
“C’mon man, she is funny and smart too,” Sam interjected. you left right there, you did not want Barnes to destroy your confidence in your wits too, your spirits were crashed already and you no longer felt like cooking, or eating, rejection albeit indirect had a horrible toll on you. So you silently left the way you came, towards your bedroom.
You laid in bed running your mind. A knock came around dinner. Sam asking if you wanted to join them. Spaghetti, your favorite. In turn, you declined and turned in early.
The weekend was uneventful, everyone did there on thing. You caught up with your ever-growing pile of books to be read, running into Bucky a couple of times, and exchanging a few words, it still hurt, his words, but after following your favorite characters around in adventures and their own heartbreaks you couldn’t help but feel better, and that way you entered the second week of work.
Soon you established a friendship with Sam, and the weeks started to pass peacefully. You teased each other and joked nonstop, your humor was so similar it was easy being around him. That came with Bucky company sometimes, especially in late afternoons when you finished work and you and Sam liked to chill to good music and drinks. Bucky was quiet most of the time, but observant. You were aware of his eyes observing you, assessing everything. You tried to forget your crush and act normal since he was clearly not interested. Bucky was not a womanizer per se, but he had his fair share of one night stands that, to your bewilderment and disappointment, looked exactly the opposite of you.
One of those fortuitous afternoons Sam decided to make himself scarce claiming he had a bad week and wanted to turn in early, you would have bought it were it not for his concealed smirk, he was up to no good and you knew it.
“Hey Buck,” you greeted him, surprised when he entered the lounge where you were having some quality time by yourself, “didn’t you have a date?” that came out unexpected, you though.
Bucky looked at you and after a bit, he said, “I blew her off, I didn’t feel like going” He looked at you intently, as if measuring your reaction, and through himself on the couch next to yours. You squirmed under his unflinching gaze, “do you want a drink?” you offered.
“Sure,” he said, “I’ll have what you are having”. You pour a glass of wine and offered it to him. His fingers brushed yours and lingered a second too long, you look at him, into his stormy blue eyes, and your breath hitched, your heart beating at a fast rhythm. You pulled back first bewildered, and quickly made your way to your sit.
Bucky’s eyes were still on you you could feel them. But you didn’t want to look at him, you were confused, unsure, and that was something you didn’t like. He on the other hand, seemed completely in his element, were you the only one feeling the tension?
“How was your week?”, he inquired. Surprised, yet again, you coughed “Quiet, quieter than usual that is, but anything I do must seem boring compared to your job”, you added trying to joke, after that the silence and the tension grew. Bucky finished his glass of wine and stood, you thought he was going to leave but instead he picked the book you left on the coffee table and came to sit next to you.
“I saw you reading this the other day, what is it about?” You picked it up, The Fellowship of the Ring, one of your favorites, of the ones you re-read for comfort.
“Well..:” you smirked and just like that the evening passed with you talking books with Bucky, it seemed you shared that hobby.
Later that night, while you tried to sleep, you would recap every single moment of that evening. The way he looked at you was so… intense, not exactly friendly and that only made it more confusing. He was different that much was obvious, but he was also different with you, and since he already stablished he didn’t like you, you couldn’t wrap your mind as to what it meant. As so many nights before you feel asleep thinking of Bucky, only this time you were certain your feelings were stronger than you thought.
I remember when we decided it was best to part ways, you told me that you don’t know how you could ever move on. It was you that told me that this was a mistake, that I was wrong.
You told me that you were happy, that my sadness wasn’t a burden. But when you told me you loved me it sounded more like throwing a floating device to a drowning child than it did a vow of forever.
I smiled, I kissed you and I walked away. Walking away from the best thing that has ever happened to me was the hardest thing I have ever done. I have ripped open my own skin, I have stolen the nutrients from my own stomach, I have isolated myself and I have tried to find answers at the bottom of bottles and empty pill packets. What I’m saying is I am no stranger to self inflicted pain, some could argue I am an expert in punishing myself for existing.
But walking away from you was the most pain I have ever exposed myself to. Walking away from light at the end of the tunnel, and back into the darkness was like handing an addict the bottle.
I think that you mistook my sacrifice for you as a punishment. But it was like setting the lion that has only ever known captivity free to roam. In the beginning he may miss the boundaries and the safety, but that is just Stockholm Syndrome and the more grass he feels beneath his feet the further he will want to run.
I check up on you, and I think you have found the ability to run. You are thriving, and she makes you so happy. I am not saying that I didn’t make you happy. But I’m admitting that you were too scared not to be happy around me, almost as if you showed sadness that you feared that you would never get that ‘good morning’ text off me. Like if you reminded me what sadness looks like that it would consume me when the sun went down and I would never see the sun rise again.
Loving me was too much pressure for a young boy who loves life. I am happy that you can love her fearlessly, I am glad you can be sad with her, I am glad that you can fight with her and go to sleep peacefully knowing you will be able to sort it out in the morning.
Can we talk about how Clay treated Jessica after finding out? He never pressed her to do anything, he said “whatever you want to do is okay”, he even asked if she would like to burn the tapes knowing the consequences of that and he didn’t care and was so compressive. I think that scene is so important because people will see how to treat someone after what Jessica suffered. Good job writters, good job Clay Jensen.
“No we aren’t doing ______ because this isn’t fanfiction” from anybody let alone a professional writer, is probably one of the most insulting things one could say …. Fanfic writers, to me, are the most amazing people in the world. Like they spend years busting out multi novel length stories FOR FREE simply because they love writing and they’re passionate about something