let me tell you about books

If I were to write a book, I would name it ‘And then I lost you’. And it would be about us, how I lost you and you lost me, and everything that happened in between. And my point of views, my chapters, would be about everything I still want to tell you. They would be about how it completely and utterly destroyed me when I lost you. They would be about how hard it is to let go if this grief that just goes with you, becomes a part of you. And then your chapters would be about where you are, now. And if you can hear me, see me, talk to me. Because sometimes I feel like I can hear your voice and it feels like I am going insane. The entire book would be about love. And about how even though you have lost the person that meant the most to you, the love doesn’t end.

anonymous asked:

Months have passed by after a very very precious girl friend of mine 'brought me out' of my closet about. However, there is something wrong. I am still very ashamed of myself for being who I am. The stigma that I used to get from the people around me saying that LGBT+ people are nasty, disgusting, weird, mentally delusional, crazy and etc is starting to mess around with my head so much. My parents are pressuring me to get a boyfriend but I cant tell them I dont want to because.. homophobia...

internalized homophobia is really a pain and i understand how you’re feeling dear <3 

we made a post a while back about dealing with internalized homophobia here so that’s the advice i’d give you! 

also if your parents are pressuring you to get a boyfriend i honestly have Every Excuse in the book for not having a boyfriend/not being interested in boys so let me give you some of my favorites:

1. “i’m focusing on my studies right now”
2. “all the boys my age are only interested in sex” [this one is especially good if your parents are socially conservative and/or religious]
3. “i don’t have time for dating” [see #1]
4. “all the boys i like are taken and/or gay”

good luck dear!! being a lesbian can be rough sometimes but it’s also a beautiful thing and i hope you learn to love yourself! 

I love deep talks. Like, hell yeah, tell me about why you’d prefer to talk to your mom rather than your dad. Tell me about your favorite lyrics in the songs you listen to everyday and why they’re your favorite. Tell me about the dog you had when you were growing up and how he was your best friend. Tell me about what kind of books you like to read when you’re alone in your room. Tell me about the things you think about right before you fall asleep. Tell me anything and everything. I just want to be the one you tell it all to. Please let me be the one.
—  (via drafterr)

Something that took forever for me to learn with fanfiction dialogue.

it’s okay to make your character stumble over, and to think about their words.

It’s okay to give characters speech patterns and let me tell you why;

It’s natural.

Every single person has a speech pattern. We all speak differently, we speak like our personalities and it’s a good way to get to know a character.

Something I’ve noticed in YA books in the characters speaking without filler words like ‘well’, ‘anyway’, ‘like’, ‘literally’.

And remember: it’s okay to use these! Make your dialogue more realistic, and more human!

Sometimes, people talk slower, and have to think about what they want to say.

Sometimes, people stumble over their words because they’re anxious.

Sometimes, people talk really fast and blur their words together because they’re afraid to forget what they want to say!

Selective people prefer not to talk at all, and like to stay mute for their own safety or comfort, and the best you can do is respect them for choosing it.

It’s okay to use phrases like, ‘yknow’, ‘uh’, ‘uhm’, ‘mhm’ because it’s how we speak in the real world.

It’s okay to have characters hum in thought, or use their body to portray that they’re thinking!

Some people fiddle with something in their hands while thinking!

Some people bite their lips in thought.

Some people hum under their breath while they think.

Silent ways of telling the reader that your character is thinking words that they’re not ready to say yet!!

It’s okay to have your character repeat words and or phrases when excited and when they can’t contain it! Sometimes, we just get so excited, that we aren’t thinking about how many times we say things.

It’s okay to write a character repeating themselves, especially if they want to get their point across to someone/if someone didn’t understand their point in the first place.

Non-verbal replies!!!

Shrugging of the shoulders, incoherent mumbles, hand gestures, use the power of writing to describe a reply or phrase with facial expressions, or physical movement!! Silence is okay too, if it’s needed!

Silence can speak just as much as words!

Dialogue is important.

Dialogue that flows and is human is i m p o r t a n t!!

sleepover friday‼️

hello my fellow buds, I’m sitting in my pjs drinking tea and I thought I would invite you all to have a lil sleepover :^))

•tell me about your crush
•send me confessions
•tell me a story
•send me funny puns/jokes
•recommend me things(movies,music, books,ect)
•would you rathers
•ask me questions
•ask for any kinda advice
•really anything at all!!😛

(I’ll be doing this all night)

YA Was Better In The Old Days

There are times when I really feel that modern girls are being ripped off in their YA. I grew up reading old WWII era Stories for Girls inherited from my grandmother and mother and let me tell you, restrictive gender roles and all, they let girls do more stuff than most of the current crop. And a lot of them were written around Girls Finding Their Calling rather than Girls Finding Their True Love.

For example:

In ‘A Friend for Frances’, Frances has to deal with the realities of being from a poor farming family and convince her parents to spend extra money on letting her go to a good school. She succeeds! She finds a best friend, learns about working hard to achieve your dreams, and ends the book a) all set to pursue her dream of gardening as a career and b) going to Holland to see the tulips because flowers are kind of her life. The only dudes involved in the story are her father, her brother, her best friend’s semi-present father and the Curmudgeon With A Heart Of Gold who gives her an after-school job.

In ‘Nancy Calls The Tune’, Nancy is a gifted musician and trained organist who takes a job in a church to free up the male organist to enlist and Do His Duty. Nancy and her housemate get jobs, work hard, Nancy helps maintain morale for the whole village and meets a nice man who respects her work-ethic and the housemate coerces a pilot into taking her over the channel to rescue her sister who is trapped Behind Enemy Lines. Some of the Patriotic Yay War Boo Cowardice stuff is pretty on the nose, but it still had a lot of Girls Doing Things.

In the entirety of the Swallows and Amazons series the girls were absolutely as competent as the boys when it came to sailing, exploring, and Making Up Cool Shit, and significantly more competent in the areas of cooking, supervising younger siblings, and making fires that wouldn’t go right out. It’s stated repeatedly in text that Susan, the ‘domestic one’, is the only reason they’re allowed to do most of it because she’s the one the parents can count on to make sure that Meals, Bedtime And Basic First Aid are applied at appropriate times. The assorted parents make it very clear to all the kids that John and Nancy may be the ships’ captains but SUSAN IS IN CHARGE IF YOU DISOBEY HER YOU WILL NEVER CAMP AGAIN.

‘The Daring Of Daryl’ features Daryl who is just SO EXCITED TO GO TO BOARDING SCHOOL THAT SHE RIDES A TRAINED BULL TO THE STATION RATHER THAN MISS THE TRAIN. An actual bull. Usual school story hijinks ensue, but I remember the book fondly to this day for Daryl’s almost Australian eagerness to embrace personal danger and sports. Again, very few dudes. 

It’s a bit older, but ‘Rilla of Ingleside’ is to this day one of the only WWI novels not only centered around almost exclusively female characters, but about girls who were at home, trying to cope with rationing and fundraising and answering the phone when any call might be to inform them of a death in the family. Rilla, a slightly spoiled teenager when the story opens, pulls her socks up and grimly soldiers on throughout. She raises money, knits socks, tries to keep her parents spirits up as their sons enlist one after another, somehow holds the family together when one of her brothers dies, and - with nobody blinking an eye - at fifteen adopts a war baby whose mother has died and whose father is overseas and takes care of it until the father comes back. There is a romance, but given that he’s also at war most of the time you don’t see much of him.

‘Dragon Island’ featured three girls who were shipwrecked (if I remember right) on an island with a significant komodo dragon population. They survived and didn’t get eaten and were generally plucky and good at problem-solving. They fished, scavenged, built shelters, all the good stuff. No romance unless you shipped the girls and let me tell you I did.

And there were innumerable Girl’s Own Stories and Girl’s Annuals and Girls Own Adventures in which girls scaled cliffs, captured spies, raised money for charities, thwarted evil capitalists trying to take the family farm, rode horses, saved injured animals, learned instruments, bested bullies, befriended strangers, went to sea, hiked up mountains, found treasure, put on shows, won scholarships, helped old people, won academic prizes, put out fires, and generally MADE FRIENDS WITH GIRLS AND DID ALL THE THINGS.

And every time I pick up a modern YA there’s at least one boy mentioned on the cover and Is It True Love and I just really miss the days when plucky, independent girls named Kate or Debbie or Susan or Abigail or Samantha were allowed to wear sensible shoes and pursue wildly varying hobbies and careers and solve their own problems that did not center around boys. Boys frequently did not even intrude on the narrative except as Annoying Brothers or Helpful Stable Hands.

I grew up reading stories in which heroines were expected to be plucky, tough, resourceful, independent, good at problem solving, unafraid of hard work and good human beings. My daughter is growing up reading stories about girls who fall in love and maybe, like, do some other stuff. I do not like this trend.

TLDR: I am old people and stories for girls were better in my day because there weren’t so many dang boys in them and also girls were allowed to do more things.

So let me tell you about this guy I know, he is so perfect in every way humanly possible. Not only in physical form but his heart is so beautiful, so delicate, so pure and so big.

He makes the simplest of things seem interesting, the most plain things appear beautiful. He makes me smile and laugh so hard my own stomach can’t contain it.

He makes me feel so special not because he makes me feel wanted but he makes me feel needed. He makes me feel like as if i’m an irreplaceable woman. He has restored hope and kindness into my heart.

He is the type of guy you meet and hope for your dear life you won’t ever lose him. He is the sunrise in the morning, the breath of fresh air and the calm after the storm.

He is the prince every girl dreams about, he is magnetic I just can’t help but find myself attached to him. He is like an addiction I can’t seem to get enough of and only crave more of him.

He is not only my lover, he is my bestfriend, my soulmate, my future, the one I want to buy a house with, raise a family with, build an empire with.

He is love, he is hope
Without him, i simply,
Would not cope.

I love him.

—  Tenari Ioapo // Happy Valentine’s Day my love.

Me: *sees headcanon about a ship I don’t follow*

Me: Nah

Me: *reads it anyway*

Me: hOLiEe SHiT!! Let ME tELL yOu aBOUT my nEW OtP

“So,” he smiled, “tell me yours.”

“My what?” She replied.

“You know, your love story, tell me about the guy who made you obsessed with the idea that you’re better off alone.”

She scoffed,
“It wasn’t a love story. Far from that. Barely a story actually. There was fighting, ignorance, stubbornness, cancellations, toxicity, emotional torture, and let’s not forget the constant competition of who cared less. We just didn’t work and I know that killed him just as much as it hurt me but lord knows he was a hell of a lot better at hiding that than I was. We were actually crazy about each other, I know, hard to believe right? I mean, there were times I hated his guts and I swore to myself I would never talk to him again and I meant it too, at the time.. But it never lasted long, eventually we made up, apologised, fucked, you know.. The usual “make up” stuff. But it wasn’t along until the next fight, and I think it just got exhausting, you know.. To keep going round in circles. The routine got boring and there’s only so much pain you can put yourself through before you say enough is enough. And one day, enough was enough and we accepted it, we wasn’t supposed to be. Maybe in another lifetime but certainly not this one.“

—  Excerpt of a book I’ll never write
Subject: whatever

I am sorry about what i said to you these morning when you took my quiz from me, and to let you know i was not cheating I was reading through the section in the book. Not to find the answers butto study so ya. I did what i did for a good reason i did study for the quiz and just did not get it so i opened my book to look it over. I am sorry for what you call cheating which it was not. So I wanted to tell you that i am sorry for saying the things I did, and will not happen again if you stay away from me and don’t get me mad . So on Monday we can start fresh and you should not touch me things.

We used to search the sky and count how many constellations we knew. You always let me win. And you’d tell me I was the stars. Your pretty, pretty stars.
    So when you ran into me in the pillows isle of Bed Bath and Beyond, two years after everything, I wanted to tell you, “You can’t have the stars. Did you ever think about that? They’re balls of gas millions of miles beyond us. You can’t have the stupid, goddamn stars.”
     And you wanted to say, “Fitting, isn’t it?”
     But all I said was, “Hello.”
     And all you did was pretend you hadn’t seen me at all.

Let us lay in bed until morning arrives,
under the stars and through the night,
talking about how you saved my life,
illuminated by the moon light

Let me tell you about all those times
you brought me back and fought my demons,
rescued me from the monsters in my chest,
to show me how bright it actually shines

Let me stay around when you can’t control yours,
to mend back together the pieces of your soul,
when you look up at the sky
and can’t find the courage to go for a fly.

—  // let’s talk about how you saved my life
Sleepover Weekend!

Come talk to me about anything, like…

  • fmk, would you rathers, or have you evers
  • headcanons, yours or mine
  • ask me anything about a fandom, character, or ship
  • tell me about your tumblr crushes or your irl crushes
  • rec me stuff or ask me for recs! can be fic, music, books, movies, tv shows, anything!
  • tell me how your day was! what are you looking forward to? need to vent?
  • make me choose between two things
  • tell me what the time is and what you’re thinking about
  • ask me anything!
As someone who wants to go into the mental health field as a mentally ill person themselves...

Split is gonna be an amazing movie.

Hell my Psychological Adaptations teacher BADLY wants to take a small group of kids to go see it with her. We watched the trailer in class and kids who knew nothing about mental illness asked questions on how DID affected someone.

We’ve watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, read the book it’s based on and even watched Bates Motel. We’ve gone into the nitty gritty of what kind of trauma it takes to get to this level. And let me tell you the kids in this class LOVE breaking down why the human brain deals with trauma like this. Kids who all(except for the few mentally ill in the room) had an ableist point of view when it came to mental illness

(I stated I was bipolar during a discussion and immediately got looks but they all did ask for me to explain it more and they realized they were misinformed)

They’ve managed to understand that this is purely fiction IN LITERALLY THE EQUIVALENT OF 3 HOURS.



For fucks sake my final paper is even gonna be about if Anthony Perkins(Norman Bates in Psycho)is accurately portraying the body language of someone who has DID according to the DSM-5. Mind you THE MOVIE WAS MADE IN LIKE THE 60’S.

A lot of kids are doing a creative writing piece about Normal Bates seeing a psychologist and are going to be graded on if it is a normal sensible piece.

My teacher (who has a masters in Psychology a masters in English and is working on a PHD and is also mentally ill) is so excited about this movie she’s patiently waiting for the DVD so she can base a whole class around it like she did with Psycho(and is doing Lolita in three weeks I’m so mad I don’t need more English credit after this)


Instead of yelling why this is ableist, take a moment to ask the person if they know any facts about DID. If not kindly explain that this is a work of fiction instead of yelling at them.

I never rant about anything on tumblr but I can’t stand all this “boycott” bullshit.

Edit: A vague call out by someone who blocked me immediately afterward is now a thing. Funny. Edit 2: I have officially gotten my first “kill yourself” anon. Thank you for your compassion.

Okay, so I’ve talked a lot about writing what you know and how important that is, but it’s hard to offer practical examples so here’s one: 

I lived in Hawaii for a while. Now, it just so happened to work out for the book I’m currently writing that four of my characters go on a weird, messed up vacation and Maui was the ideal destination. And let me just tell you, I’ve had a freakin’ blast writing about it because not only is it a great trip down memory lane, but there are things you’d never be able to describe about Maui unless you’d been there–like crawling up the side of a mountain in the dark in the jungle in a car with an engine that barely runs, wondering if you’re about to lose power completely and slide down a hill to your death. Or the way the whole island looks like it’s on fire when they burn the cane and how you have to close all the windows so you don’t wake up covered in ash in the morning. Or the absolutely unholy stench from the sugar factory that hangs over the airport. Or waking up and finding a lizard on the ceiling directly above your face. Or how you learn to just eat ants like a garnish because they’re fucking everywhere and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Those kinds of details you really can’t manufacture. Now before you say, “But you lived in Hawaii, that’s so exciting, and my life is so boring, I don’t know anything” (because someone always says that), allow me to preempt you: this applies to everything and everywhere. Your high school, your hometown, that restaurant you worked in in West Covina. If you’ve ever worked a job or lived in a place or had a hobby where the details are familiar to you, you can write them with an authenticity that can’t possibly be faked, and that will add tremendous depth to your story, whatsoever it may be. It doesn’t matter if it’s not, on the surface, exciting. Authenticity in fiction is engaging and addictive, because that’s when a reader goes Wow. Yes. I can see that. Or even, I know EXACTLY that feeling. In some ways, the more mundane, the better. Because if you can do justice to a mundane experience, everyone else in the world who has had it will have an absolutely transcendent moment seeing it prose. 

So. Write what you know. You know a lot more than you think.

Sleepover Saturday!

hey y’all lets talk

  • crush stories
  • secrets
  • rant/complain
  • advice (I’ll help the best I can)
  • fuck marry kill
  • truth or dare
  • would you rather
  • stories
  • ask for recs. or send me recs. (songs, movies, books, TV….)
  • tell me about you
  • ask me questions about things you want to know
  • top 5
  • unpopular opinions
  • A N Y T H I N G!

you’ll cry about a lot of things when you get older.

you’ll cry every time one of your best friends moves away, and let me tell you it never gets any easier. you’ll cry at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday because you’re thinking about the next year of your life and how you wish you could stay where you are. you’ll cry because you hate the girl you see in the mirror. you’ll cry because the boy who was once your best friend told you he doesn’t want to fix things between the two of you. you’ll cry in the bathroom because the girl you don’t talk to anymore can’t even look at you because you hurt her so badly. you’ll cry when you read through old letters your friends wrote you. you’ll cry when your best friend tells you how much she is hurting, and how she hurts herself. you’ll cry on the plane leaving the place you love so much. you’ll cry when you think about him, which is a lot considering every fucking song on your favorite playlist makes you miss him.

you will cry a lot when you get older, but the important thing to remember is that it’s okay and it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable.

—  // a letter to myself
Dating Newt Scamander Would Include

Originally posted by hardyness

  • Meeting by crashing into each other, apparating away instantly, finding yourselves in the same alley, realising you were both wizards and yelling “Why was there a Niffler in the bank?” “Excuse me, I need to go and find my um.. friend.”
    Then together, “Oh.”
  • Newt showing you his book, letting you gently turn the pages, and telling you about each and every one of the creatures in detail.
  • Him showing you the creatures in his suitcase, smiling at the awe on your face, the way you can’t see it all fast enough, the absolutely entranced look you have. It is this he first starts to fall in love with.
  • Newt tapping you on the nose at the end of him telling you something as if to say, “There we go that’s it, your turn.”
  • Referring to al the creatures as your children. You are both Mummy. No arguments. That’s that.
  • Newt being insecure at times because he worries that you don’t actually like him. You quickly assure him that you like him very, very much.
  • He’s cute and romantic a lot of the time. Always trying to be a gentleman. He’ll give you his coat when you’re cold, hold open doors for you with a smile, even lift you over puddles, but that’s a bit of a joke really.
  • Being painfully adorably awkward together
  • Cheek Kisses to say “Goodbye, stay safe.”
  • Cheek Kisses to say “Hello Love.”
  • Cheek Kisses to say “You’re being cute, you know that?”
    “Wait, nevermind, how could I forget, you’re always cute.”


I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube…We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am
leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome
burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,
my silent night, just mash your lips against me.
We are all going forward. None of us are going back.
—  Richard Siken