just getting this out of my drafts

I am literally sitting here staring at these drafts. Like my muse is here, my want to write is here but i get to things and im just staring. Im thinking it has something to do with the anon hate. Which i have found out WHY i am getting it. Basically i fell out with an older rp partner of mine as she was getting jealous of me writing with others. she wanted my undivided attention at all times. and when i kept putting things in queue then you bet i got an earful down IM. so i stopped writing with her and now………now her and all her friends are sending me hate. lovely.

But anyways i am going to take a few days i think to think over what i want to do. as honestly i come on here and im just all BLAH about it all so yeah immma take a few days away completely. I mean i ended my hiatus but still idk im just……………ugh. and plus everything keeps breaking as i gotta redo all tags and you all know how much i hate that shit. so yeah.

8

Persona 5 Protagonist - Habits & Mannerisms

Voltron actor AU where everything’s the same but Voltron is a live-action TV show and the paladins are actors:

  • Their names are the same in real life. They go by different names in the show. 
  • Keith and Lance still have a “rivalry.” Red and Blue didn’t originally have it, but when the cast first met and the directors saw how Keith and Lance interacted, they wanted to write it in. 
  • Shiro’s arm is still a prosthetic, although the scar is fake.
    • sometimes the makeup crew forgets the scar. literally no one notices until it’s the end of filming
    • “Shiro…” “Huh?” “…they forgot the sca–” “are yOU FUC–”
  •  Shiro, Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Allura all do their own stunts. 
    • Pidge is only 17 and their mom won’t sign the waiver for them to do their own stunts. 
  • No one really knows how their little production company was able to afford hiring Allura, who’s a big time actress and super talented.
    • they eventually find out that she’s a giant mecha/space nerd and came to /them/ asking for a role and willing to do it for free
  • No one really knows if Coran has a script or if he was told to just say whatever
  • Lance calls Keith “Red” so often that Keith thinks Lance has forgotten his name
    • he hasn’t.
  • The paladins, Allura, Coran, and basically all the actors boycott after season 2, demanding retribution for the way they wrote Hunk and Lance’s characters. 
  • Hunk has an engineering degree in real life.  
  • Matt isn’t Pidge’s real life brother, but when they first meet it goes something like: “baby sister!” “big brother!” and they end up inseparable.
    • Pidge’s mother is known for calling Pidge at work just to talk to her son, Matt 
  • Hunk and Shay’s on-screen chemistry was actually a real thing. Shay was cast at the same time that she was working in the costume/design department, so they’d known each other since the show started. 
    • they’re dating now
  • Every time Lance’s character hits on Allura’s on-screen Lance spends five minutes defending Blue’s character after filming 
    • “he just craves attention, okay? he just wants love!! he’s smart and beautiful and wants to belonG”
    • despite this, Lance is basically his character minus that shoddy writing in season 2
  • Keith and Lance have their own shipping fanbase. It starts out with just their characters, but then Some Mysterious Person starts taking candids between sets and posting them online and klance is born
    • it’s Pidge. Pidge runs five fan accounts. 
    • the pictures are super incriminating, but no one shows them to Lance or Keith
    • there’s a betting pool on when they’ll get together
  • Keith gets super into his roles and ends up genuinely upset after filming the scenes where the princess reacts badly to Red being part Galra. 
    • Allura gives him a 15 minute hug after
  • Bonding Moment Discourse is actually a thing. There was a prop malfunction on set while they were filming and the directors told them to stay put, so Lance ended up being Cradled for a solid half hour.
    • later, they find out that they could’ve moved and just chilled for that time, instead of actually holding each other.
    • “I get it Keith, I get it. You just wanted to hold me. Who doesn’t amiright??”   

A new something to tear at ur hearts. o(๑❛ꇳ❛๑)o

Cux I’m really an evil person to the core. <3 

Am sorry but as much as I like Gabe, I like torturing him even more hence I regret nothing. Once again, angst76 shit. :3

Jean Moreau ‘firsts’ to consider:

  • the first time Jean allowed himself to enjoy a blue sky
    • the trojans had dragged him off to a picnic for “team bonding” and it was the first time he’d been allowed to look at the sky without Riko looming over him
  • the first time Jean felt the grass under his fingers
    • on that same picnic, while Laila and Alvarez were wrestling playfully nearby, Jean looked at the grass under the blanket and ran his hands over it and was in awe at how smooth it was
  • the first time Jean went to a party
    • the Trojans just won a game and wanted to celebrate, so of course they made Jean come along, and at first he’d been apprehensive, but then Jeremy grinned at him and it turned out to be not so bad
  • the first time Jean genuinely smiled
    • unsurprisingly, it was because of Jeremy, who made a stupid pun that Jean wanted to groan at, but he found it humorous somehow so he just… couldn’t help it
  • the first time Jean failed and didn’t beat himself up over it
    • the Trojans rarely lose a game, but sometimes Jean can’t stop a shot that should have been easy. One day he can’t block a shot and he’s surprised to realize he’s just thought “I’ll do better next time”
  • the first time Jean lets himself love
    • it’s not just Jeremy, but also Laila and Alvarez, who show him that love isn’t supposed to be painful or possessive or suffocating and who give him the courage to let the team love him
    • even Jeremy
    • (especially Jeremy)
Drafting: The Theory of Shitty First Drafts

Writing books often exhort you to “write a shitty first draft,” but I always resisted this advice. After all,

  1. I was already writing shitty drafts, even when I tried to write good ones. Why go out of my way to make them shittier?
  2. A shitty first draft just kicks the can down the road, doesn’t it? Sooner or later, I’d have to write a good draft—why put it off?
  3. If I wrote without judging what I wrote, how would I make any creative choices at all?
  4. That first draft inevitably obscured my original vision, so I wanted it to be at least slightly good.
  5. Writing something shitty meant I was shitty.

So for years, I kept writing careful, cramped, painstaking first drafts—when I managed to write at all. At last, writing became so joyless, so draining, so agonizing for me that I got desperate: I either needed to quit writing altogether or give the shitty-first-draft thing a try.

Turns out everything I believed about drafting was wrong.

For the last six months, I’ve written all my first drafts in full-on don’t-give-a-fuck mode. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

“Shitty first draft” is a misnomer

A rough draft isn’t just a shitty story, any more than a painter’s preparatory sketch is just a shitty painting. Like a sketch, a draft is its own kind of thing: not a lesser version of the finished story, but a guide for making the finished story.

Once I started thinking of my rough drafts as preparatory sketches, I stopped fretting over how “bad” they were. Is a sketch “bad”? And actually, a rough draft can be beautiful the same way a sketch is beautiful: it has its own messy energy.

Don’t try to do everything at once

People who make complex things need to solve one kind of problem before they can solve others. A painter might need to work out where the big shapes go before they can paint the details. A writer might need to decide what two people are saying to each other before they can describe the light in the room or what those people are doing with their hands.

I’d always embraced this principle up to a point. In the early stages, I’d speculate and daydream and make messy notes. But that freedom would end as soon as I started drafting. When you write a scene, I thought, you have to start with the first word and write the rest in order. Then it dawned on me: nobody would ever see this! I could write the dialogue first and the action later; or the action first and the dialogue later; or some dialogue and action first and then interior monologue later; or I could write the whole thing like I was explaining the plot to my friend over the phone. The draft was just one very long, very detailed note to myself. Not a story, but a preparatory sketch for a story. Why not do it in whatever weird order made sense to me?

Get all your thoughts onto the page

Here’s how I used to write: I’d sit there staring at the screen and I’d think of something—then judge it, reject it, and reach for something else, which I’d most likely reject as well—all without ever fully knowing what those things were. And once you start rejecting thoughts, it’s hard to stop. If you don’t write down the first one, or the second, or the third, eventually your thought-generating mechanism jams up. You become convinced you have no thoughts at all.

When I compare my old drafts with my new ones, the old ones look coherent enough. They’re presentable as stories. But they suck as drafts, because I can’t see myself thinking in them. I have no idea what I wanted that story to be. These drafts are opaque and airless, inscrutable even to me, because a good 90% of what I was thinking while I wrote them never made it onto the page.

These days, most of my thoughts go onto the page, in one form or another. I don’t waste time figuring out how to say something, I just ask, “what are you trying to say here?” and write that down. Because this isn’t a story, it’s a plan for a story, so I just need the words to be clear, not beautiful. The drafts I write now are full of placeholders and weird meta notes, but when I read them, I can see where my mind is going. I can see what I’m trying to do. Consequently, I no longer feel like my drafts obscure my original vision. In fact, their whole purpose is to describe that vision.

Drafts are memos to future-you

To draft effectively, you need a personal drafting style or “language” to communicate with your future self (who is, of course, the author of your second draft). This language needs to record your ideas quickly so it can keep up with the pace of your imagination, but it needs to do so in a form that will make sense to you later. That’s why everyone’s drafts look different: your drafting style has to fit the way your mind works.

I’m still working mine out. Honestly, it might take a while. But recently, I started writing in fragments. That’s just how my mind works: I get pieces of sentences before I understand how to fit them together. Wrestling with syntax was slowing me down, so now I just generate the pieces and save their logical relationships for later. Drafting effectively means learning these things about yourself. And to do that, you can’t get all judgmental. You can’t fret over how you should be writing, you just gotta get it done.

Messy drafts are easier to revise

I find that drafting quickly and messily keeps the story from prematurely “hardening” into a mute, opaque object I’m afraid to change. I no longer do that thing, for instance, where I endlessly polish the first few paragraphs of a draft without moving on. Because how do you polish a bunch of fragments taped together with dashes? A draft that looks patently “unfinished” stays malleable, makes me want to dig my hands in and move stuff around.

You already have ideas

Sitting down to write a story, I used to feel this awful responsibility to create something good. Now I treat drafting simply as documenting ideas I already have—not as creation at all, but as observation and description. I don’t wait around for good words or good ideas. I just skim off whatever’s floating on the surface and write it down. It’s that which allows other, potentially better ideas to surface.

As a younger writer, my misery and frustration perpetuated themselves: suppressing so many thoughts made my writing cramped and inhibited, which convinced me I had no ideas, which made me even more afraid to write lest I discover how empty inside I really was. That was my fear, I guess: if I looked squarely at my innocent, unvetted, unvarnished ideas, I’d see how bad they truly were, and then I’d have to—what, pack up and go home? Never write again? I don’t know. But when I stopped rejecting ideas and started dumping them onto the page, the worst didn’t happen. In fact, it was a huge relief.


Next post: the practice of shitty first drafts

Ask me a question or send me feedback!

ok so i was gonna fic this but it’s been sitting in my drafts half-written for months, so take this bullet point fic instead:

  • the foxes try to have a reunion of sorts every year or so
  • they don’t always make it but everyone puts in some type of effort to come
  • they all get together for real after the US Court announcements go out bc goddamn we need to celebrate this right??
  • everyone is just catching up, sharing news
  • dan and matt are married
  • nicky and eric are married
  • aaron and katelyn are married and expecting a kid
  • dan starts joking around bc ‘looks like everyone’s married except neil and andrew’
  • except it’s not really a joke bc to be honest, no one is quite sure if they are still, in fact dating. bc no paparazzi has caught them together yet which is like. unheard of in the exy world. if two professional players are fucking everyone knows like, instantly
  • and it’s been literally years
  • so there’s no way theyre still dating right?
  • (only Renee knows the truth bc they needed a witness)
  • (she’s the only one who gets a christmas card from them
    • (it’s a phone picture of andrew holding Sir and neil holding King. the cats are trying to escape. no one is smiling. it’s the background on her phone.)
  • anyway, neil when dan says that neil gets a Look in his eye
  • “hey andrew” he says. 
  • “what”
  • “want to get married?”
  • “nah”
  • everyone else: wait, you’re actually still dating?
  • neil internally: oh now we can Really fuck with them now
  • neil externally: no we’re not dating. haven’t been for years
  • nicky freaks out bc “I KNEW IT, IT WAS HATE SEX EVERYONE HERE OWES ME $200″
  • things calm down eventually and the topic moves on
  • that’s when neil goes in for the kill
  • “andrew, sweetheart, get me a beer?”
  • andrew, who knows exactly what’s going on: “sure thing babe” and kisses him on the way out
  • it’s mass chaos
  • as the rest of the foxes are screaming, nicky manages to say “wait you said you weren’t dating!”
  • “we aren’t”
  • andrew returns, handing neil his beer and planting a kiss on his head
  • “we’re married”
  • fin
  • epilogue: rip in peace to nicky who had to give back all that money and live on forever Renee who took all that money + $700 more

People like us  
are born with stardust in our bones,  
with sunsets on our lips,  
with supernovas in our chests  
     ready to explode

People like us  
are born with glittering white slates,  
with hands clean as the first snowfall,  
with smiles bright as sunlit mornings  
     just so we can stain them red

People like us  
are born with no time on our clocks   
with no gravesite marked with our names,  
with no afterlife waiting our arrival  
     timeless, deathless, endless

—  people like us: the sinners, the fallen, the ghosts, the heroes ( j.p. )