duckbunny:

writer culture is having that one scene that really scratches your id, and being willing to write forty thousand words to get to it.

@anghraine

mechalesbian:

multichapter fic: *ends with a happy and satisfying resolution for everyone*

me: 🙂

multichapter fic: *is the first part in a series*

me:

*the rest of the series is just short spinoffs about everyone enjoying their happy ending*

fanfictionwriter101:

Opening up your WIP like

getintherobot:

this fic will never be done

fel-as-in-tumbld:

Here’s to the fanfic writers who can only write sporadically.

Here’s the writers who can’t output enough to keep up with the most popular writers.

Here’s to the writers writing even though they get no feedback.

Here’s to the writers who somehow manage to scrape together a little inspiration and a lot of hard work to write that story they know nearly no one will read.

Here’s to the creators who keep going even when it’ feels like screaming into an empty void.

You’re inspiration, and I don’t know how you do it.

The secret to writing a story as a character telling the story in-universe: I don’t have to worry too much if the reader won’t find it as funny or interesting as I do, because I have another character reacting in-universe to respond “i don’t know why the narrator is laughing at this or wasting time telling me all this, but I’ll humor them.”

ps: guys, like any writer i’m a slut for feedback. I am infinitely worse and needy if you read the original fic stuff- mostly because there’s no mutual canon safety net to fall back to.

*now off to search for a sufficient offer of bait to award someone to leave commentary, knowing it’s a fool’s errand*

how to write high fantasy

sj-flemings-writing:

adrianianam:

pervocracy:

They dined at the castle that night, feasting upon fresh-caught river trout, cooked to crackly perfection over open flames, and served with lemon from the gardens. There was roasted boar as well, from a mighty beast the hunters had slain, the huge chops basted in their own glistening fat. They drank sweet summerwine, staining their lips red, and making their songs more merry as the night drew on. And then the servants brought out platters of berries and cream and cakes, each one sweeter and more succulent than the last.

Also someone murdered the king or whatever.

For breakfast they had platters piled high with crisp bacon…

George RR Martin’s in the middle.

I love notices in my inbox like these. I can tell someone read the series in one go.

For kicks, I’m making my way back through your “working on silm fic” tag and it’s a capital-D Delight.

I hope you find some amusing gems- and while I don’t usually tag which fics I was working on under that tag, I can imagine the ones where I am struggling with the Cuiviénen Era fics are the most obvious and most amusing, considering how often they are complaints about ridiculous world-building problems because, as Tolkien himself proven, for any real Science! you have to throw the Arda cosmic myth out the window. Or complaints about how much a fic is either ballooning out of control or promises I’m almost finished- for weeks.