listening to music with headphones is so awesome especially when it shoots straight into your brain and you can pick out all its little layers like sandwich ingredients
vanguardvogue
alright gamers tell me: what’s the game that’s the equivalent of a weighted blanket for you. it’s not necessarily a good game or a fun game but a game that gives you a sense of peace and warmth
Limits of the Human Body
Body Heat = 107.6 F
Cold Water = 40 F
Hot Air = 300 F
High Altitude = 15,000 ft
Starvation = 45 days
Diving Depth = 282 ft
Lack of Oxygen = 11 minutes
Blood Loss = 40%
Dehydration = 7 days
Writers finding this post:
Thank you
hessystuff
Europeans about half of this post:
spnfangirl06
Body Heat = 42 C
Cold Water = 4 C
Hot Air = 148 C
High Altitude = 4572m
Starvation = 45 days
Diving Depth = 390m
Lack Of Oxygen = 11 minutes
Blood Loss = 40%
Dehydration = 7 days
Europeans seeing this version of this post:
steekira reblogged
steekira reblogged
Anonymous asked:
Do you have any tips/advice for new indie writers?
Don't fall into the trap of being a social author.
Do you want to be a social media star or do you want to write books? Because every hour you spend making reels and tiktok videos? Should probably be spent writing.
"But I have to promote myself!" you say. "Social media is a free tool, why shouldn't I use it?!"
You absolutely should! But consider: Is your end goal likes on a post and follows on your TT account? Or conversion to book sales and longevity as an author? Because when you make yourself the product, the goal posts have a funny way of moving. External validation is like a drug, and when you've made yourself the star, getting that next hit of validation is going to supersede working on your craft and developing an authorial voice.
Honestly, it's not much different than being a writer in a fandom space, or posting content on a site like this.
Likes are great, reblogs are for discovery. If you are a consumer of Creator content, reblog and share the things you love.
But if you are the creator? Get your validation from somewhere else. Because the second you need it from strangers, you've already given up the game.
Springboarding over some of the tags I've seen, and just wanted to add that I believe the above is true whether you are trad pub or indie pub (or a fandom content creator or someone who just enjoys creative writing.)
Being an indie author means, yes, I am the boss. I am both author and publisher, and no one gets to tell me what to do. Except for me. Me the publisher still needs to tell me the author that she needs to post on Instagram everyday, me the publisher needs to remind me the author that she needs to send out her newsletters, to repost her IG reels to TikTok, to ensure I am popping into my Discord server daily.
Here's the thing, though. None of that means you need to lose yourself to the perils of social authoring and external validation.
One of the follies of tradpub is the assumption that once you have an agent and sign a book, your work is done. All you have to do is write now!
But unless you're one of the lucky few who are tapped as a must-win; best seller, you are still your main hype man, you are still your promo department, you are still going to be doing the online hustle of social media and marketing. Because if you've not been tapped as a best seller, you're going to get mid-list marketing budget, which is to say, practically none at all. The mid-list isn't what it used to be, and what it used to be pales in comparison to what it was. You're not going to be magically freed of the marketing grind by going trad.
But that still doesn't mean that you need to spread yourself translucent on every social media platform under the sun. That still doesn't mean that you need to make yourself the product.
Pick one (1) platform and dominate it. Find your people. Figure out who your comps are, and follow them on social media. Follow who is following them. Figure out what book bloggers are reading in your genre. Engage with their content, pretty soon, they'll follow you back. Build your community. Build your community in a way that makes you happy and comfortable, and build it in a way that is sustainable for you.
Don't think that just because you are trad or courting trad that you can take your foot off the gas. But that doesn't mean that you need to spend every waking moment creating content for TikTok.
(And if you're wondering how to have a presence online without BEING online - cross posting is your friend. I post directly from Canva to IG, Twitter, and Tumblr. Zapier reposts my IG feed directly to my Facebook reader group. IG automatically reposts to my Facebook author page. The only thing I have to do manually is TikTok.)
Building your community is going to look different for everyone. Maybe that means TikTok. Maybe it means Instagram. Maybe it's a combination of your Facebook reader group and your mailing list. What a publisher wants to see is that you have a platform and that the readers are out there.
(And before anyone argues that a platform is not necessary to get an agent, you're right, it's not. But that doesn't take away from the fact that six figure book deals are being signed on the back of "This author blew up on TikTok." I'm friends with several of those authors, and yes, their platforms are very important to their publishing contracts. That still doesn't mean they are grinding out content to the detriment of their books, nor does it mean they are on every platform.)
Bottom line: Trad is not to be all and all. It's not the only way to publish, and it's not the only way to be a real author. Yes, indie is too much work for some people. Maybe you don't have the spoons, maybe you don't have the time, maybe you don't have the capital to invest. Neither of those truths negate the fact that you still need to market yourself.
The only universal truth to publishing is that there is no one right way to publish, and there is no one easy path to success.
My original point is that YOU do not need to be the product. Falling into the trap of confusing your publishing goals with social media stardom is a one-way ticket to eventual disappointment, because eventually no likes will be enough, no comment will be as heartwarming, no validation will be enough validation. You'll always be seeking more and more and more.
Get your validation from your family. From your friends. From an author group or a writer's circle. Don't rely on strangers for your validation as an author. Once you do, you'll always be chasing that fleeting high, and the crash when you don't get it is not worth it.
steekira reblogged
I don’t know about you but I’m so sick of that omnipresent association of sports/fitness with weight loss as the ultimate goal.
(PS: I’m not sure how efficient punching people is for building muscle mass but I’m afraid she’s had a lot of opportunities so I guess four pounds is probably realistic?)
I wish… I WISH I could somehow reblog this HARDER and with MORE LOVE. Sorry to put more non-art stuff in my main tumblr here, but goddamn I feel this so hard. I’ve been hitting the gym with the goal of making a good habit, so that when winter comes around and the inevitable S.A.D. creeps back into my life, I’m more likely to get some exercise as a coping mechanism just out of habit. I’m also weightlifting because I want to get strong (like ox, you might say).
I do not care if I lose weight, I’m not keeping track of my pounds, and if I stay chubby but get stronger I will be just as fucking happy. So glad I found this comic, and so glad I found your art Ephi! New watcher ahoy! <3
This is a Good Comic.
steekira reblogged
another night to try to fix my sleep schedule wish me luck
They cannot stop me
steekira reblogged
kenergy
steekira reblogged
When the author describes a character’s appearance way too late and you have to quickly redesign the image you already have for them in your head:
This is why if you want people to know your character has long raven-black hair with red streaks and eyes like limpid tears, you need to make sure you say so in your first paragraph. Christ. Imagine someone thinking your character’s a prep.
Holy shit I’m dying.
That. That literally explains the opening paragraph of My Immortal I was making a joke but this person came out here with receipts holy hell
NEVER forget the wild ride that is the first page of The Vampire Lestat.
steekira reblogged
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)
“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time.
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”
She protects her family.
Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!
HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
steekira reblogged
Hits Ben with the transgenderification beam 😌🏳️⚧️
steekira reblogged
Just goofy dad things
steekira reblogged
one thing they don't tell you about levitation cantrips is that they make it very easy even for your scrawny wizard boyfriend to sweep you off your feet
There’s a lot going on in that little critter’s head right now.
1. Power move.
2. Why do people whisked away to magical worlds just automatically believe the first creature that tells them what side the person needs to help? Where’s my isekai where the MC slowly finds out they got in with like the deranged zealots and are part of the evil faction, and not the plucky rebels?
I think about this comic once per week. It’s funnier then anything I can conceive of. Mastery.
steekira reblogged
dnd jokes that will always be funny no matter what your dm tells you
- "jesus christ" "who's that"
- "this is just like (tv show/movie)" "that's my favorite play"
- referring to famous musicians or actors from the real world as "bards"
- adding the word "fantasy" in front of modern things (i pull out my Fantasy iPhone and open Fantasy Tinder)
- "how hurt are you" "on a scale of one to twenty-eight i'd say i'm at about a nine."
feel free to add more
“Why do you wear that one hat all the time?” “It makes me feel about +2 more dexterous somehow”
Subsection of adding “fantasy” in front of modern things: Referring to something or someone from real life as Elven, Dwarven, Orcish, etc. In origin. Ex: “Did you know David Bowie was actually fae?”
