is one paragraph so hard to do

anonymous asked:

How do you write without cringing at your own work? After writing a few sentences I usually give up because I'm cringing so hard ...

I have a few tricks! 

One is to copy an author’s style for the first paragraph or so, one that fits the tone of the story. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Di could handle that particular duality; it was the vampires that she was having trouble with.” That way you can’t really cringe, it’s a popular beginning!

Two is to give my first few paragraphs a very funny narrator. “The vampires” (because when are there not vampires) “were giving Di” (a simple name for someone who’d like to see themselves as quite complicated) “a lot of trouble” (Which, as we’ll see, is something Di receives from vampires and otherwise quite a lot). 

This keeps you interested in reading your own work while also finding the depth/various angles you have. I find a lot of cringe comes from shallow story telling, so you just got to keep in mind that this is your story and is actually quite complex!

Three is to lean into the cringe. “Di stood looking over the embattled warehouse, long coat swirling around her ankles. Below, a writhing mass of five vampires snapped their teeth at one another, totally oblivious to her looming presence. War is hell, she thinks and jumps.”

Look, it’s fun to write ridiculous, over the top characters. It’s really fun to write all the little stories (starring you!) that unfolded during a particularly boring lecture. And you know what? A lot of people like reading ridiculous stories!

Four is to do with poor sentence construction. Some days it’s really hard to write a coherent story and you end up looking at what you do put down with an over critical eye. DON’T ERASE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! On those days, I take my choppy, no good, very cringe-y paragraphs and put them in my “Graveyard” folder. My Graveyard folder is every opening, scene, and character description that makes me cringe. Once it’s in there, I rewrite it for the actual story and then wait a few days. When I feel capable of looking at it again, I compare the rewrite to the original in the Graveyard and use the one I want.

Surprise, surprise, generally it’s the Graveyard opening I like!

So Don’t Fear the Cringe, dear anon! That means it’s working!

anonymous asked:

oh smol shiro! oh so cute, i can't tell you how much i adore everything about smol shiro everything. continuing on that trend can i ask for smol shiro and keith? maybe something sweet?

(definitely not a continuation of this, nope)

“Here,” Keith says, handing a cookie down to Shiro’s eager little fingers. Keith’s not exactly sure why Hunk’s already made two batches of cookies today, but Hunk’s baking patterns have never been something Keith’s fully understood. “Let’s each take one and get going before Hunk sees us.”

“Two?” Shiro asks, so very politely.

“You’ll spoil your appetite,” Keith says, but picks up a third cookie anyway.

(Give me a prompt and I’ll write a three-sentence fic!)

Pardon Me as I Vent

After I wrote what I thought to be a fairly thoughtful, well-thought out reply to someone shitting on a YouTuber and their family, basically saying “Hey, they’re a person, lay off,” the person told me outright that they wouldn’t reply because “I don’t care enough to reply to your several paragraphs about a fucking YouTuber.”

I have never seen anything so dismissive.

I have never seen anything so disdainful.

I have never seen anything so condescending.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Fluff prompt: Ryan and Brendon in an interview and they've just been asked one of those "so, what do you admire about your fellow band member?" things, and they're trying so hard not to go into paragraph long ramblings on how much they love each other.

This is so good they are staring at each other really lovingly trying not to talk about the warmth of the other’s eyes or the way their lips feel and Ryan just ends up talking about how brendon is the most beautiful soul he knows and brendon talks about how Ryan just is all around perfect and feels like home to him

  • if you’ve got time, outline your essay it. do not, and i tell you NOT, print out one of those cute studyblr outlines that you saw last friday. you’ll waste time tracking it down and printing it out and honestly, you’re gonna throw away that outline right after you finish your essay. it doesn’t need to look cute.
  • write your outline how you talk. it’ll save you a lot more time when you get your ideas down in how you talk, because it comes natural to you. it’s so hard to just say that one thing in language your english teacher won’t cringe over, so if they’re not checking it, don’t do that.
  • use your outline as a guide to rewrite all the thoughts in your head into something that makes sense, but you don’t have to put everything on it. when i use outlines, i usually don’t outline my intro + conclusions, because those usually depend on the body paragraphs, and my body paragraphs will change from outline to essay. On one outline I did last night i just wrote “LATER LOSERS” for my conclusion.
  • write your thesis/claim and body paragraphs first. then go back and do your conclusion + intro. conclusions and intros are always harder if you’re not a master writer, and you’ll just waste time
  • Turn your wi-fi off, unless you’re using google docs, because we all know you want to check social media while doing that essay. don’t.
  • Use google docs. It’s just overall more convenient because it automatically saves and google helps you cite things.
  • when you can’t find the perfect thing to say, step away. stop reading that essay over and over again trying to look for the perfect flow. open up a new word document, google doc, whatever writing processor your have, hell even use the notes app on your phone, and write whatever your idea is in your speak. chances are, you know how to say it when it’s filled with obscenities and words no one else knows. and seeing it written down will make it easier to translate it.
  • i always have an issue with this, but put a paper or something in front of your laptop while you’re typing. preferably one of the sources you’re using for the essay, because hey you have that right in front of you. and, staring at the screen when you’re typing will make you want to go back and fix every error you make. when you put a paper in front, you’re only focused on getting your ideas down, so you’ll work faster, and you have time to go back and edit when you’re done.

anonymous asked:

I LOVED THE ENDING FOR OCULUS!!!! It was so good! But do you think maybe there will be some sort of epilogue in the future? Just some sort of continuation to see how the characters are after the last chapter? Even just a paragraph would be good for me!

Idk? I had one outlined, and I really like it, but the final scene in oculus is just so?? Final, for me.

A lot of people have asked that I post the epilogue, though, so I may. Or maybe I’ll include it as a bonus to the hard copy for the giveaway haha idk.

Writer’s Tag

Tagged by my lovely @sfjessii

Rules: Post the first line of the last ten stories, then tag some of your favorite authors.

I’ve done this one before, so instead keeping with my tendency to do whatever the fuck I want with tagged stuff, I’m gonna do a short paragraph of fics that I started but haven’t finished. Hopefully it’ll shake some inspiration into me to finish at least some of them.

◈  Once upon a time, in a land far away where mountains of the countryside and greenery stretch as far as the eye can see; where the skies are grey and the weather is damp and the smattering of cattle grazing on the pasture is a sight that isn’t uncommon. In a large white house overlooking the looming mountain tops in the distance there lived a young boy and his name was Jace. 

◈  In light of recent—and quite frankly, absurd accusations made against him, Max Lightwood writes a series of letters.

◈  Lydia saw John when she looked at Alec. Not often. Just sometimes. Not outright; more like a sense of déjà vu; a feeling of familiarity. It wasn’t anything obvious. Not a particular look or a distinct feature. It wasn’t something she could point out in a photograph or a feature she could describe to someone else.

◈  It was Simon who discovered it; the deep, dark, well-kept secret. Luke’s secret.

suicide squad.
◈  “Just once I’d like to have a mission somewhere other than some buttfuck third world hell hole or a place so cold it would freeze off the tips of a polar bear’s dick.” 

◈  The date with Noora was going well, better than expected really, so William’s immediate first reaction was annoyance when his phone started buzzing and Chris’ name and number popped up on screen.

falling skies.
◈  Hal Mason isn’t afraid of strong women, or at least strong women the way Pope tries to make the description out to be, like it was some sort of derogatory term; as if a strong woman was something to be scoffed at or looked down on; like it was something terrible.

reTagging @sfjessii @alyxhavok @imyourliquor-youremypoison @drakamena @blj2007 if you want to do it of course.

@girllostinthewoods Hello love, can you do please do the I saved a piece for you, I brought you an umbrella, writer and editor au, two miserable people meeting at a wedding au, tourist knowledgeable local au all for Niall? Sorry if it´s too much, if it´s too much could you please only do the tourist AU? That one sounds so good with Niall to be honest(: XO

You were not a writer. Granted, you understood logic. You could form a sentence, a claim, a conclusion. Syntax was easy. Writing cohesively, an entire paragraph, that was hard.

And so, here you were meeting with your writing tutor. The two of you emailed so much. Niall was an angel in your mind, but he suggested meeting you in person was a better idea. At some point, the messages became a little flirtier. Niall would ask you how your day was and told you to have a better day than the day before and spread your beauty to the less fortunate.

You had always heard that dating a writer was a magical experience…not that you were expecting to date your tutor. You were pretty sure that wasn’t allowed. Still, that didn’t stop the way Niall’s messages made you feel. If you wanted to date a writer would that be so bad?

They had something about themselves that made life so much more meaningful, you supposed. They saw things in a different way. Granted, you didn’t like writing, but you could appreciate it. People who liked writing were old souls and experienced life in such a wonderful and different way.

Niall was an old soul, you could tell by his emails and the way he helped you. He offered advice like “try and write it like this, show the emotion you feel for it, love. I know it’s there.” You weren’t quite sure how you could have emotion for an essay. But if Niall said it, it must be there, somehow. You were hoping to learn how that was in your meeting today.

You sat in the library with a coffee for yourself and tea for Niall, you had already emailed him to get his preference. You didn’t know what he looked like, but you sort of just assumed you would know.

However, you never anticipated the pretty blond-haired blue-eyed boy that plopped right across from you at the table you had claimed.

“Hey, princess,” he smiled as soon as he looked at you. Like he knew. “Nice to officially meet you,” he said sticking his hand out for you to take.  “I hope you don’t find this creepy, I looked you up before meeting you so I wouldn’t look like a total schlep asking everyone if you were waiting for me.” You hadn’t thought to look up who the fuck he was and you felt stupid that you were utterly unprepared for how physically beautiful he was. That wasn’t what you expected and now you sat their gaping like a fish at him. “You’re much prettier in person,” he smirked gently as he pulled out some paper and a pencil.

“You’re using pencil,” you whispered. And Niall answered smoothly as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing you could have said. But Niall knew. He knew you were more of a STEM person; he respected that greatly because his science content knowledge was piss poor.

Still, he knew that STEM people like pencil more than pen. He nodded. “Lots of people think that writers prefer pen. I think there’s certain times for pen. Free-writing being one of them. But drafting and editing. That’s all done in pencil,” he nodded.

You sucked your lip into your mouth. “Do you make mistakes?” You wondered curiously.

He chuckled lowly as he scanned the pages in front of him. You realized it was your paper marked with little tick notes here and there. “As many as you do, love.”

You shook your head. “I doubt that.”

Smirking more he looked at you briefly his eyebrows raised in a slightly mocking manner. “You haven’t read the mistakes yet, princess,” he whispered.

The blush that rose to your cheeks could not be stopped. Not if Niall was going to continue to call you princess. “Oh,” you said softly.

“Thank you for the tea, I’ll have to get the next round, I wouldn’t have let you pay if I knew that was your intent,” he said kindly as he looked over his notes some more. “Shall we get to work?” He asked.

You couldn’t believe he actually said shall.


Niall was hilarious. Even that was an understatement. The two of you worked for a bit. Giggling and smiling as he chatted away about everything and of course helping you with your paper. “See, you know what you’re doing,” when you tell him what you think should go somewhere and he writes it for you in his messy scrawl.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “This must go well beyond the call of tutor.”

“S’alright, and m’happy to help such a lovely lady,” he whispered with a gentle smile at you. Your cheeks warmed at his comment and he looked away shyly. “Well, uh…can I walk you back to your dorm or your apartment…or?”

“Um…yeah, that would be nice…My car actually, I live a few streets over, in fact,” you said softly.

“Sure,” he nodded gathering his belongings. He held all his belongings in his bag and then he waited patiently for you to gather your things. In the meantime, his stomach growled loudly.

You giggled. “Do you wanna get something to eat? I can drive.”

He bit his lip and smirked. “That would be lovely,” he nodded gently.


The two of you were laughing so hard as you parked outside his dorm waiting for him to leave. Dinner turned into an after dinner drink, but then you had to eat just a little more before driving so that turned into dessert.

And now you were trying to breathe normally as he looked at you. Niall never wanted this night to end. The only reason he did want it to end is because he desperately wanted to write about you for hours and hours. “What do you like to write about?” You asked quietly when your laughter had died down and the two of you were sitting in silence.

Gazing out the window at the cold night, he thought about the moon, the stars, the vastness of the universe and sucked his lip into his mouth. “Everything,” he whispered.

“Read me something,” you said quietly. You didn’t want this night to end, but you had to do something or you would be itching to hold his hand…and that simply wasn’t logical.

“I don’t have anything to read, princess,” he smirked softly. “And even if I did, it’s all rubbish.”

You shook your head. “I don’t buy that for a second. You’re harder on yourself than anyone else. Math people carry calculators around like a security blanket. Where’s your journal, Mr. Writer?” You wondered. He swallowed thickly as he dug in his backpack and he sighed.

Clearing his throat, he read:

For a very long time now, I’ve gotten used to the idea of being alone. Writers fall in love every day. Every day a writer falls in love with someone’s smile, her laugh, his voice, her eyes, his hair, her kindness, his humor… Writers fall in love too much and fall too quickly because the romanticism of falling in love is what writers love.

For a very long time now, I’ve gotten used to the idea of being alone. How can one explain how to fall in love every day? There is no logic to that. There is no math behind that. It’s irrational, it doesn’t make sense.

Your cheeks flushed pink, perhaps for the millionth time in the night. Niall swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering to you to his scribbled words.

But there is logic, there is math, some would say that the universe brought me to her. Brought me to this day where I fell in love again. For the hundredth time this week, I have fallen in love again. I no longer fall in love with his laugh, or her voice, or his eyes.

But I still fall in love every day.

Just with her. Over and over again.

You swallowed thickly as Niall closed his notebook and sucked his lip into his mouth as he didn’t move his eyes from the windshield. Both of you sat still and didn’t speak for a few moments. What could you say to him? That was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard and he wrote it…about you. “I…I didn’t want to read that.”

You couldn’t breathe. “How did you fall in love with me over emails?” You asked eventually.

He winced because he knew you wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t logical. “Uh…if I’m being quite honest, it was the idea of you,” he whispered. “And then I saw you tonight,” he swallowed.

You turned to look at him. You were a math person, you heard the flaw in his argument—that was a fallacy. He couldn’t say that. “But…you already…wrote that…didn’t you?” You asked. You were breathless.

He closed his eyes and opened the book for you and you felt the tears well in your eyes as you gazed at the blank pages in front of you. You couldn’t speak. “I told you I had nothing to read, love,” he breathed as he let his eyes fall in love with yours again.

Liam: Video Game Date

This one has been half done for so long. But it just wasn’t working, so I shuffled the paragraphs etc and I was suddenly super into it. Basically, this past three days I’ve been super busy doing nothing. I tried to write some Scott stuff but it’s so hard and I wasn’t letting myself write anything else and yeah. 

“Mason!” You whined, dragging his name out and making him wince. You hid the devious smile that wanted to run across your face at the reaction and instead held his hand in both of yours. “We need to do this. For the greater good. For all kind, man, woman, natural and supernatural.”

“Your argument is so weak; I don’t understand how you think it’s going to work.” He sighed and you could see his walls tumbling, you almost had him.

“Just… Imagine with me. Imagine your utopia, and this is a part of it. It’s there, isn’t it?” Mason rolled his eyes and you grinned triumphantly. “It is there. And we can make that happen, it’s like the first step to a better earth. An earth for our children.”

“You’re making this a lot bigger than it is.” He groaned but he was already nodding so you chose to ignore the comment.

“Alright, are you ready?”

You looked down at the object in your hands dubiously but nodded all the same, glancing at Mason for but a moment before the noise started and your heart rate increased.

You struck out, knife scraping against flesh as you grunted. Then your opponent hit back and you yelped, the hits suddenly raining down. Within seconds, you were gasping irregularly, you could practically see the life draining out of you, red tinting your vision.

Then you died.

“What the hell! Why is this so difficult!” You snapped, wanting to throw the controller but also not wanting to be unreasonable because Mason had that effect on you. The be reasonable, it can’t be that bad effect. It was probably a side effect of his charming nature and the fact that out of all the pack members, you and he were the most similar. Human and delighted by Bretts everything.

“You just need to practice, and I mean… If you can’t beat me, you’ll never beat Liam.” He smirked and you growled, hitting the replay button with more force than necessary.

“This time, less frantic. You know where the buttons are and you know which ones work which way. You can still press them wildly but have a little finesse with the order.” He coached and you inhaled, nodding seriously. No way would you knock the Mr Miyagi persona if it got you what you wanted.

Your brow furrowed as your thumb jabbed down on the buttons, roughly recreating combos you remembered doing accidentally before. You watched Masons character swing their broadsword out, just as your own sword swung down, the magic whatevers on it helping the weapon slice, cutting him in half from shoulder to hip.

“Oh. My. Good Lord.” You breathed, exultation filling you, your expression likely wild. You turned your head to Mason slowly, the rest of your body facing the screen, and grinned. “I just killed you.”

You doubted the reality, but in your head, it felt like a very paranormal horror movie moment.

He only rolled his eyes, stating “You’ve only done it once. You’re still not good enough yet.”

But you weren’t listening. You were looking at screen as your Troll Guy danced around.

“I cut you in half!” You laughed, clicking the rematch button gleefully, confidence flooding your veins.

It was hours later when the pair of you finally finished. You had a raging headache, a crick in your neck and your eyes were on fire. Mason led you to the front door, slumping against the frame as he gave you a weak smile.

“Alright. You should be able to beat him at least once.” Mason sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and you nodded.

“Thank you, my dearest, I shall retire now.” You mumbled, giving him a lordly nod before turning and stumbling down his porch stairs.

“See you tomorrow!” He called after you and you raised a hand, your eyes already half closed as you autopilot walked the few streets home.

Liams lips pressed against yours, arms closing you in, your back bounded by the cold metal of the lockers. Your hands curl into his fluffly hair, fingers sifting the duckling soft strands.

“Oh god! It’s like watching Dora and Diego make out, please, stop!” Stiles complains, hands flinging out in your general direction.

Following the orders, you slid out from between Liam and the lockers, pressing a hand against his chest when he tried to pull you back.

“Bosses orders buddy, sorry.” You grinned, leaning against his shoulder companionably, fingers entwining.

“He’s trying to destroy all the fun, like making out against lockers so that no one flirts with you anymore.” He said sullenly and you whacked him on the chest with the back of your hand.

“He sort of has a point. I mean, I would’ve been super cut if I saw you making out with someone back when I had a crush on you.” You laugh, and Liam’s chest puffs out slightly. Leaning back slightly, he gave you a goofy look.

“Aw babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing.” He grinned and you gasped before bursting out laughing.

“We’re dating.” You grinned back and he laughed.

“Still.” Your head turned to Stiles’ joyfully.

“He’s learning.” You whispered and Stiles made a gagging sound but you ignored him, still caught up in the moment.

“You guys are disgusting.” Stiles muttered, noticing that neither of you were going to say anything, before turning and heading down the hallway, his hand rising and falling in his laziest follow me gesture yet.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” You called at his retreating back before picking up the pace and pulling Liam along after you.

“You’re not going to study again tonight, are you?” He groaned, coming even with you and nudging your hip with his, almost making you trip.

“You guys are so gross; I can’t even look at you.” Mason muttered, stepping up next to Stiles as the group of you headed out into the sunshine. Way to take all the fun out of it.

“We aren’t studying again.” You announced, taking his hands and pulling him into a jerky dance that he tried to resist, instead walking backwards and leading you after Mason and Stiles. You kept the moves up, making him flush slightly and grin, coming to a stop at the lunch tables where the group waited.

“You two need to stop!” Stiles complained from the seat he’d just taken by Lydia, who was watching you and Liam like an old person who’s remembering their younger days with fondness and you groaned.

“We are enjoying our youth in the middle of a crisis, Stiles!” You growled back, kicking a foot high and wild in his general direction to the amusement of the others. Saying no more as you pulled Liam into the seats beside Isaac.

“Enjoying your youth or embarrassing all of us, except Liam, who has no shame when it comes to you.” Stiles grouched and you rolled your eyes.

“Get your own relationship, party pooper.” You grouched back, giving him a sly look that he returned gleefully.

“Okay, let’s move on.” Scott muttered, definitely tired of the honeymoon phase you and Liam somehow couldn’t escape. You leant against the blue eyed boys warmth, giving Isaac a dopey smile that he shook his head at.

“You bring dishonour on the family.” He mouthed at you and you grinned happily.

“I can live with dishonour.” You mouthed back with a smirk and he gave you an affectionate smile.

“What if…” You began, sitting up slightly and pushing Liam flat so you could climb aboard and assert the moment. When you didn’t immediately talk, caught up in just looking at him, he squeezed your thigh.


“What if we played your games tonight?” You mumbled, gesturing to the stack of disc cases by the TV vaguely. Not that you were feeling vague, you knew exactly which two you could win at. Two in case he said pick between these three and only one was in the group.

“You really want to?” He said curiously, but you could see the spark. He was very interested. Maybe he was even going to do the whole “teach her how to do it while our bodies touch all over”.

“I mean, yeah why not?” You gave him a small smile and he sat up so that you were face to face.

“You’re fantastic.” He mumbled, eyes earnest and content on yours as he gave you a slow and tender kiss. It didn’t last long though, him pulling away and giving you a wide mischievous grin. “No more kissing. Prepare to meet your doom!”

You giggled as he wriggled out from under you, half diving onto the carpet before the TV and grabbing at the cases then hesitating. He gave you a soft look over his shoulder and you grinned upside down at him.

“Do you want to pick?” He smiled and you rolled over, crawling until you’d plopped down next to him and scanned the titles.

“This one.” You said definitely, pulling out the one that of the two you were best at and handing it over. He didn’t hesitate, barely looking at the cover before sliding the disk into the console and settling against the bed.

You grabbed your controller, knee walking until you were right next to him and collapsing against his side, making him grunt an oof. Not that it stopped him from leaning into you just as much.

“Say it!” You commanded at your prone and blinking boyfriend from where you knelt beside him. “You have to say it!”

“Y/N is more powerful than anything ever, including the supernatural, the British army back in the day and small pox crossed with the black plague.” He groaned out and you cackled evilly, hands rising from where you’d been poking and tickling him. “How did you beat me?” His voice came out awe filled and a little afraid.

You gave him a secretive smile and he rolled his eyes, pulling you down so you landed half on him, half on the carpet.

“I’d say I love you, but I’ve loved you for ages, half the time as a friend. I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He murmured against your cheek and you sighed contentedly.

“Same.” You said softly, trying to hide a grin and he pulled back, giving you a disturbed and wounded look before catching on your expression. For a moment, things seemed to slow down. You watched the emotions combine onto his face to coalesce into the look of a cat about to pounce. Less than a second later he rolled onto you, his head burying itself in the crook of your neck, his mouth opening and his teeth biting and gnawing onto you playfully and you shrieked a laugh.

“Noooo!” You howled, as Liam pulled back laughing and grinning, his eyes practically hearts as they looked at you. “I’ve been cursed! Oh what heartbreak, for I am forever bound to the whims of the moon, forced to turn beastly at it’s filled peak! Oh lycanthropy, my new friend, shall we never part?”

Liam watched you, snorting at your finish and you gave him a goofy look.

“I’m in love with you too, Dog Boy.” You said softly, the words heavily weighted as he leant down and kissed you gently, both of you wearing smiles you couldn’t hide.

Yay! Gooey and goofy and gross. I’m really going to try and do another Scott one, because Scotts numbers on the list are so low but it’s mega hard. Also, this and the Derek one coming took/are taking a while because I need to get the lay out of their houses/rooms/lofts right. Willy nilly is not my thing, also where is his bathroom/kitchen/everything other than a bed and single couch??? Don’t answer that, I’m working on it.

You Don’t Need a Topic - Just Answer the Questions

It’s entirely possible that you want to start writing your commonapp essay. And even more likely it’s possible that you have no idea what you want to write about.

You know that you should avoid cliches and that you need to not write about things that are very strongly apparent on your app (like your extracurricular passions). But with a long list of what not to do, it’s hard to figure out exactly what you do want to write about.

Know what I recommend for those who have no freaking clue where to start? Don’t worry about it.

CommonApp has done you a real solid by getting rid of their “Topic of Choice” essay. So now you need to stick to one of the five prompts (placed at the bottom of this post for your own ease).

So just start answering the questions. Do bullet points. Write a paragraph. However much you can write to answer something, just start writing it. Maybe something will pop up. Maybe you’ll find a topic and then completely flip it around to fit another prompt (my brother started out by writing an essay 1, and ended up writing an essay 3). Just start listing out answers and see where it takes you.

Sometimes it’s easier to start with a prompt than to comb your entire life for one experience.

Before you start remember a few guidelines:

A- Avoid self deprecation at all times. Remember you are selling your positive qualities
B- Be as specific as possible and keep it personal. If someone you know could write a similar essay (every player on your soccer team can write about how you lost the big game and learned a lesson) they’re going to read 10 of that essay before they read yours.
C- Make it about YOU. Not your brother who you look up to, not your parents who sacrificed everything and motivate you to succeed, not your role model. You. You. You.

So… get answering.

1. Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

2. The lessons we take from failure can be fundamental to later success. Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?

3. Reflect on a time when you challenged a belief or idea.  What prompted you to act? Would you make the same decision again?

(NEW NEW NEW!) 4. Describe a problem you’ve solved or a problem you’d like to solve. It can be an intellectual challenge, a research query, an ethical dilemma-anything that is of personal importance, no matter the scale. Explain its significance to you and what steps you took or could be taken to identify a solution.

5. Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.


Oh, hello! Here’s the fic I promised, based on this prompt from the not-so-anonymous @bitchy-broken. (Thanks so much, m’dear!) I could prattle on like I usually do about how it’s too long and it strayed, but I’m sure you’d rather just read it. 

(I realized that I’ve been lax with putting word counts, so if you’re wondering, this one is around 4400+.)

Here are some lovely people who’ve asked to be tagged at one time or another: @ch1darkcy @hohumi @sassy-curmudgeon @slothpaws @adaftmyriad @greenangelheart @old-lady-at-heart @teastaindiary @lametwentysomething @fantasticab @allimidori @robichaux-prefect @llexis @thisissomefreshbullshit @boysweatandckone @someday-youwillfindme @kneekeyta @justagirlnamedkayla @14000romances @darlingdiver @mirandasmadeofstone @how-ardently @icshly @gushington-central @i-love-mmfd @carpe-libris @raernundo @broughttoyoubythelettera @i-dream-of-emus @mallyallyandra @anglophileyoungblood @fuckintentshop @aggressively-lamps @chrryblsms @nipasir @areyousad8118 @ducky17 @milymargot @sharoonroney @sarahlouise88ni @celestev31 @scumothaearff @bitcheslovebeck @magicalgrandma @kerrv0rting-and-sn0rting @ililypop @gemmarstyles @ilovefinnnelson @sammylbc @anca82 @idontcareifyoudontbelieveme @murderyoursoul @losingpudge @heartnotbrain @jackiewalsh2013 @dairingoriginal @sunflowerdope @omgbananasnailus @katywright340 @bitchy-broken @pigeonfarmrace @rinncincin @mellamoaiko @finnleysraemundo @kristicallahan @musicfreak1 @alyssaloca @girlwithafoxhat @karinskyme @irish-girl-84 @tinakegg @luvs-jade @2muchtosee2littletime @voodoomarie @annemarieted @happyfrasers @wandering-soul-7  @sicklittlejag  @zero-for-starters @thatfunnygirllauren @stinemarine @huffee-hugsandcoffee @milllott @emu4ever @becauseyouarestrong @blobwithagob  @lovinglifeandlivinglove @crystalgiddings1993  @chelsealorine @cosiquellocheora @rhi3915 @lau-vm  

(Folks on my tag list who I can’t tag: @protectfinnnelson @fangirlwithoutshame @shadan-stone-roses @perfecters @abullofshit @arashian-emu @courtkismet @jessicacandesign @inneedofamoralcompass @nenita1978 @look-how-they-shine-love @you-are-world-class-i-mean-that) Feel free to disembark from the fic train at any time!

* * * * *

It was the third summer of the gang being the gang.

The girls had taken their A-levels and were awaiting the results, Archie was back in town having just finished his first year at the University of Durham, and Chop had been promoted to foreman and was lording it over everyone in the repair shop, much to the consternation of Finn.

It was hot for July. Usually, they got a couple of scorchers in August, but it was sweltering even in the shade, and they were sitting in the sun-drenched yard of the beer garden.

Rae took her flannel off, which was a bloody miracle all on it’s own, and swigged some of her beer. “Christ, I’m hot,” she grumbled.

“Yeeeaaahhh, you are,” Finn drawled. It was almost an automatic response at this point. Rae was always too bundled up and complained about the heat even when it was temperate.

“Ha bloody ha,” Rae sang. “If I had a pound for every time you came out with that old chestnut …”

“Maybe you could buy a clue,” Finn mumbled into his beer.


Finn shook his head and coughed, pointing with his hand that was holding his beer. “Look, it’s Chlo and Iz.”

Keep reading

I’m not even a good writer, I just do this because I enjoy it. But writing is literally so hard, even if it’s shitty. To all my fellow writers out there, how many times did you stay up until four in the morning without realizing because that one fucking paragraph just needed to be perfect? 

So even if you aren’t a great writer but your working on it (like god damn I suck I’m not trying to act higher than I am), y’all deserve a round of applause and about ten more cups of coffee. 

Here’s a goodnight hug from me to you - now go get some sleep. 

What I Hate About Writing Fanfics
  1. It’s so hard to get a beta reader that isn’t you
  2. What is tense? Seriously, I switch like 500 times.
  3. What is POV? Another problem I face daily.
  4. Focusing on one ship…. like no i can’t
  5. OPENING THE FREAKING FANFIC. This really pisses me off. I have a great fanfic idea, and I want to start writing it. But how do I open it? PFFFFFF I HAVE NO IDEA! I’M JUST A BRAIN-DEAD LLAMA WHAT DO I KNOW?! So I spend like ten hours on one opening line/paragraph, and by the end of that I’m so tired I don’t even want to write anymore.

This is why I don’t post fanfics. I have lots of drafts, but I won’t post them (at least on this blog) because of these reasons.