Breezytealy's couch to 80k

“This is just for you” And the counsellor. And the careers coach next week. HA. 

MANIFESTO. 

One of the best things to happen to be recently was talking to a role player. They were discussing with me the plot points for the story they were writing off the back of my work, one that creates a mechanism for a magic system, basically. They were using the terminology I’d developed and fleshed out to create new moves and to motivate their character and plot. To hear them using the same words I’d really poured work into was an amazing high - I’d actually communicated this idea in my head effectively enough that it seemed natural for this other person to use the terminology. They haven’t been the only one to do so.

I’m happy creating worlds. Not necessarily from scratch, but the process of “and then”ing - here’s a seed and what happens next, what does that cause in the world - is amazing, and when it all fits together to create a modified language, a set of customs, and some things are remarkably similar... that’s awesome. I love the contrast between what the characters in that world see as extraordinary and mundane, and what we as the reader think. 

I want to create worlds that people want to explore, that there’s enough there for readers to want to pick up a pen and to insert themselves of a character into. I want it to make sense to people, not at a whishy-washy level, but if there’s sci-fi, it not necessarily be hard sci-fi but appear to be, or to find all these science analogies that really bring a story to life and will make people dig down further. “Could this be real? Could this work?” I want readers to feel immersed in a world and story like they’re piecing it together from journals they’ve found, or blog posts and songs and holiday photos. I want to run an ARG for a world. I want a reader to want to find out what a character is doing on their off days (if usually extraordinary), those quiet moments of friendship and comfortable silences that we all want for ourselves, and to relax with the characters and shoot the breeze. 

“[Relative location] in the [verbed] [noun] of the [adjective] [noun] of the [adjective] [noun] of [noun] (,) [verbs] a [adjective] [verbed] [adjective] [noun].”  BONUS can you put back in the uns? 

Nearby in the dilapidated cave of the underground wizards of the highest order of pottery, hides a old bearded naked woman. (Sorry that was awful just needed one to get out of system) 

In a distant land, in the smokey heights of the rumbly volcano of the impatient Gods of War screams a [x] bounded human sacrifice.

In sleep, in the unreachable depths of the unknowable mind of an Oxford professor of psychology percolates a [x] uncovered sparking idea. (blah I tried but we’re on a tight deadline, also ‘uncovered’ is opposite to other uns there, anyway) Parallel to us, in the mirror world of the metal demons of the red asopdkfapsodkfpaoskdfpoaskdfpokas THAT WAS REALLY HARD THERE WERE TOO MANY WORDS TO REPLACE LOL

Being over specific could bog you down though? Does it matter if the character uses his left and right hand, or would usual hand and off-hand be better unless the hand is important? Frees the reader to fill in the gaps? Oh that’s what you’re basically saying okay haha

I have no idea what’s going to happen in this, I have no idea for a plot so letsgo

The chair was uncomfortable. Liliana knew each dragging second perched here would cost her aching back another five on the foam roller, but she couldn’t afford to bail. She played with her phone to distract herself. Though it was little comfort, another shot of sciatica added to the cacophony of agony, causing her to recoil from nothing, covering her sharp intake of breath with a cough. He was late, and her tea was getting cold and she’d need to get another soon. The sweet aroma of tray bakes hung in the air, convincing her to continue to patronise this coffee shop would be a good idea, but cozy had become stifling and if she could escape without him ordering [a good thing x]. The door opened and he stepped through. He peeled off his rain-sodden mac, umbrella useless in the gale outside, looking for all the world as though he had fallen into a swimming pool. His embarrassment implied near the same. His eyes found hers and he called her name over the noise. Apologies muttered and chairs scraped across the tiled floor as he weaved through, his trousers soaked from the bottom up.

Huuuhhhhhhh I didn’t know where that was going  but actually that wasn’t that hard? I wasn’t really thinking where it was going so didn’t make much sense but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

glass heart wearing heart on sleeves water like mirror raining cats and dogs broken-hearted going to hell in a handcart dog-tired knackered blowing a gale ice-cold like a dragon red-hot

glass heart - a peach within her chest  heart on sleeves - a man with a ticker subtitles like on the news, you could have him on mute and follow along water like a mirror - the lake ??? raining cats and dogs - the deluge a ??? broken-hearted - he’d been arrested, languid, the (spring) in his heart would never be wound again going to hell in a handcart - within three years ??? dog-tired - slumped over the sofa, cheeks and eyes dragged down, taking on the (sadness) of a St Bernard knackered - ? blowing a gale - a cold blast of air, a wall to battle against  ice-cold - her skin burned against his own, a ??? dragon - 

Anecdote... it’s funny because as soon as you mention these exercises my mind goes blank, as if I’ve literally done nothing in the past week other than exist in a state of existential terror. OH I went to the gym a few times okay

Got home at around ten to five which is a little earlier than usual I think? No wait it’s not it’s normal time, and got changed for the gym downstairs as I’m a lazy bum and know I won’t go otherwise. Left the house in my hoodie, it was raining but the wind wasn’t as strong so my hood stayed up. I noted it was still light out and that the days were getting longer and wondered if it would still be light when I left. Only a few minutes walk including through the swing park to get the gym. 

As usual I got out my membership card before getting to the desk to make sure I wouldn’t fumble and asked if I could use the fitness room. I was too quiet when asking so had to repeat myself - idk why I find this one of the most anxious part but there we go. 

My usual locker was being used! So tried to pick another, one on the other side on the end smelt bad (always pick the one on the end so I can just change shoes in front of the locker and not get in people’s way) so picked the one next to my usual. The wristband felt weird, a little looser than the usual one.

There was still a slot for the running machine and I managed to find a really good song with a great bpm so ended up upping the pace a little. 

This is going to be really dumb and I need to accept that. :SCREAM:

I threw myself over the threshold, a sack of potatoes [sorry] bruised from the long winter of the day’s stress, but knowing this was not the end. The gym beckoned, a mix of guilt and ‘you should’s and promises (were they false?) of achievement winding their way over park and house, a calling, a song only those brave enough to [go drag there, adventure there] could ever repeat to others [like boasting?].

I must be like those others, those happy, confident few who achieve their dreams [blaaaah no metaphor] and so I stow away my recalcitrance, peeling 

WHAT WAS THAT ALL THE TIME THE FUCK?

:( :( :( :( 

I find it so hard :( I even tried to not get too caught up thinking and even ignored a lot of the inner critic to the point I don’t even want to look back at it but urgh I got nowhere :(

It’s so frustrating because I struggle with sensory stuff and whilst I can pick up overarching themes (like you can see one above and where it was probably going to go) actually executing it all is so hard :( 

List 1

orange juicy sweaty (LOL) multi-faceted glittery bitter grainy foamy sharp ascerbic wavy cloyingly (?is that an adjective? anyway) bovine slender jangly moist (LOL) sweet tender List 2 presents puppy wall branch seawater stallion (?!?!) cheese leaf sandtimer goldfinch oven fountain pen aeroplane chalk test tube (I am not helping myself) ponytail

SEA. LOL. SEAWATER AND FOAMY. I’M FUCKED love is a tender goldfinch (you know it) the mooooooon (moist cheese!) sweet puppy death acerbic sandtimer the sea (is a foamy seawater LOL) foamy stallion CLICHE writing is a bitter stallion ?!?! ? sweaty branch?? thee mind is a grainy test tube !?!!?!?!??!? sharp test tube (I like the test tube, could bounce from there to lab)

Hey, if I send Tim this link again does that mean he’s “sitting behind me” with a scrying mirror? 

SCIENCE I know these words and studies YEAH

Wait for four days??? :/ :/ :/ :/ :/

considering I noped out for the demon thing... although WAIT I have counselling Thursday and I’m supposed to write about my 10 worst memories and 10 best ones anyway LOL 

::flicks back:: Wally Green? That’s an okay name, old man I guess, short for Wallace... no brain not Wallace from W&G :wheeze: and he’s trying to return something at the shop?????!?!??!?!?! That’s pretty annoying but boring.

Okay so I’m usually (particularly in editing) good at not putting in the emotion name so whilst that’s the idea I’m going to ramp up the sensory stuff a little more than usual so might be full of duds, but one can only try.

Uhhhh I was going to go with fear but since that is my permanent state of being it’s very easy to write for me - to easy everyone worried at all times. Going to make life miserable for myself. 

“What can I do you for?” Her chirpiness grated on the inside of his head forcing him to close his eyes to steady himself. Wallace placed the supermarket bag on the counter with great care - conscious he didn’t have the right bag for a store like this, he’d probably used it unknowingly for [x] waste.

[x]

“I’d like to return this.” [her confusion about the cardigan] “The tag’s still on it.”

“Do you have the receipt?”

“No. It was a gift.”

“A gift receipt would be okay?” Questions, questions, why were kids these days always asking questions when they weren’t needed? [X] never did that.

“I must have thrown it out...” He cursed himself again for admitting he’d thrown anything away, but he swallowed it back down. 

It had been in her winter wardrobe only for a week it must have been, but the combination of those lavender fresheners and that perfume that smelled of spring had rubbed off completely. His heart rose when he found it, the tears flowing freely for the first time, their son even leaving the room to make tea to give him the space, but burying in his face in it in thanks just brought her cruelly into the room, the kettle’s whistle [xxx]

SIGH I CAN’T  DO THE SENSES and write a scene at the same time they are two different parts of my brain at the moment

I even dialogue dumped ready to insert stuff later just to frame out the scene.

This was an interesting idea though - I did backspace a little when I was getting a little too close to stating outright what had happened. ALSO didn’t use the word (and didn’t think to use the word) numb haha.

“feckless trash” Looool - fun fact I finished my PhD through spite.

One of my favourite things I’ve written actually draws on something I’m bitter (but okay) about, like an entire story asks one of the questions that I’ve come across a lot. 

OH this is really cool! Embarrassing af but cool! 

PS I’m hungry 

RIGHT. SENSES.

He approached, footsteps loud and uncaring down the hall and she drew in her breath [XXX????] as much as she could, not daring to move a muscle. [wait no rewind breathe to get smells] A stench of mildew [wtf???!?!?] rolled off him and she hel

--

“Don’t. Ever. Come back here. Do you understand me?” He shrunk back even further and jabbered some form of apology, god X could smell the piss streaming from him. “/do you understand me?!” 

Still no movement to leave. Too late. X had him by the throat in a sea of red [?!]

--

Going back there. She never thought she would given the difficulty of seeing it... what? The same? Just how X would have? The same stalls in the market with the same mishmash of ethnic [lol] food, the same bustle and joy. Or to see it changed, developed into those quirky coffeeshops with locals who could not afford ()asdasdasd

--

“Not here...” but her caution lost its force, she made no move to loop back under his arms and instead they stared deep, passed his own reflection in her eyes and felt himself fall forward with every [husky?!?!] breath he took find her lips again

--

Salt air, the warmth of the first peek of spring Sun both hit her face and she almost yelled in delight. No one had told her about the smell, or the noise! The water - so much of it! - crashed and smashed and dragged it’s way against the pebbles. It reminded her of her weekly bath 

I seemed to avoid grief and got sidetracked lol genuinely not on purpose

YEAH I do textbooks and blogs :D :brofist:

(btw I did get my haircut - too chicken to ask her to curl it a little so it’s a straight bob and I look like I’m about to ask to speak to the manager).

Third person limited YEAH WOO

Omg that poetry takeaway :D Awwwww that’s so sweet omg

Post apocalyptic style would be too easy I think.

Second would be really difficult but irreverently funny.

Been scarred by rewriting something as a deliberately poorly written fairy tale fairy recently.

OKAY TWO

No Dobbins you had to have been there to understand the sheer magnitude of the baffoonry on show, but I'll break it down for you.

First, let me be clear, this is not the kind of establishment that I would keenly attend nowadays. Some credit card bought package deal full of people who bought their holiday from coupons out of The Sun. You know the type, the hotels built exactly like the estates they all came from, food was English through and through - only thing different was the latitude. It’s no wonder the kid nearly died.

So there I was, not five minutes out from the “collect as much money as you can from the bottom of the pool” game (which, by the way, was begged off the hundreds of parents half dunk half asleep around the pool). The winners had already been declared (not me, though it should have been - some poor excuse for a lifeform grabbed coins from my hand. I guess they needed the money more than me) but we were all back down there to find any scraps. A could of pesos could come in handy.

I was leading the charge as usual, a gaggle of minions behind me fanning out. I wasn’t going to take a cut of their findings of course, but made sure I gave myself the best spot.

Then this yell went up, from the side. Then more. I tried to ignore it, I had a task to do after all, but I still had to surface for air. And what did I find? A bunch of headless chickens. Kids screaming and floundering to get out the water, parents at the side calling out names and grabbing kids. You’d think the water’d turned to acid. It was ridiculous. I was the only calm person in the entire pool area out of hundreds of people, can you believe that? Just a kid and the only one with any sense. Anyway, he took me a moment to spot the acid as it were, people huddled around the central island of the pool not too far from me, other guys streaming in from the walkway. I tried to get a look you know, see if I could help? But I got pushed away.

-----

Weirdly that wasn’t the most challenging task and I wrote more for that than I did in the free writes (380)?!?! the flowery one was the hardest for me I guess because again, I’m defaulting to telling instead of showing which is a problem. ::sigh::

RAAA

okay let’s go psycheeeeeeeee! (This is SO DISRESPECTFUL but fuck it)

And I’m stuck. This was supposed to be an easy job, in and out like the passing shadow they claim me to be, the kind that startles you into a blink and is gone just as fast. Simple enough, take out the target, some middle-aged, pot-bellied guy who’d got in a spot of bother not paying back his creditors, using the money to come to this hellhole of a resort with his equally as greasy kids and wife to get sunburnt. Was the last time he’d be doing that, and I got a free trip out of the country to boot.

From behind the bar (like no one in this temp-work places knows everyone on shift, there wasn’t even a uniform) I could spot him close to the back of the sun loungers, far from the pool, his kids away playing, wife at the other end of the bar. This would be simple enough, a poison in his drink on his next return to the all-inclusive bar. I’d be out of here before he keeled over. 

I tried not to smirk as I watched him drain those last dregs and heave himself upright, catching his eye to make sure he came to me, plan in motion and then --

A shout, more a scream. But I hadn’t killed anyone yet what could be going on? Others sprinted along a walkway to the island at the centre of the pool, towards a young man heaving a tiny body from the water, bleeding profusely from a cut on his head (water will do that [xxx not right here but idea]) -- well shit. 

In the moments I’d be watching the scene unfold my mark had 

(I was going to put him as helping but then remembered the remit of the scene lol) 

I... uh... idk I didn’t really change my style for this? More the perspective? Idk if that was right to do so. I like what I wrote though! I made a genericy character and tried to flesh him out in choosing what he observed so that was kind of fun lol.

“lol lol” covers own slight discomfort “lol lol” but not feeling as bad today

The sound is stopped by the blue, screams pressed flat. Eyes now open she hunts for the source, view stopped by swirls of foam in the mad. Feet rush by, all kids move to leave the pool at the calls of Mum and Dad but she holds her breath more to see. This was not good, but why? A shark? That could not be real, but still they fled. She swims to the air. Her own mum at the side yelled with fear on her face and a towel held wide, a sigh. 

One of the last kids to leave, all held tight by shock white parents, told to look not at the pool. But she did. A child lay, grown-ups (CHEAT) in a ring

This was really difficult to do, but actually some of these sentences came out really quickly like “oh yeah this makes sense without me having to think about it, huh.” 

Oh hey had a career’s coach meeting today and I told her about my (science) writing* and how much I enjoy it and she was like “hey you should go for it” so that’s really lovely. 

*(I have experience science writing and wordcount experience in fiction at least - this isn’t like, me doing three writing exercises and going I WANT TO BE A NOVELIST I QUIT MY JOB - just seeing what’s out there)

You alright mate? Oh you’re back lol

No mate I did die I’m just channeled through someone doing week 3 

._______________________________________________.

Drowning in mist lol 

this smacks of someone trying to make me talk on the phone to roleplay to reduce anxiety MY BRAIN KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND IS SIDE-EYEING YOU :heaves unwilling self to do this: (I don’t feel like this deserves all the bells and whistles of nonsense but that’s the point... think I’ll cut to the chase a little in terms of what’s happening)

Mirrored Silence

Pretentious McFuckwit 

(fuuuck I can’t write like this I’m a fucking scientist I do analogy blaaaaaaaaaah) Water rushed through my fingers like [GOD] dogs? wtf brain what are you doing WHY DID YOU GO THERE HSDOS)ODF)SOD)FOS wait third person 

A cacophony of screams went up from overhead, a mere din with the weight of water pressing down and around her, but still the sound recognisable and enough to cause fear [weak]. Eyes wide open now, searching amongst the confusion for the coin she almost had knocked away by a stampede[?] of other children paddling[harder] at the water’s surface, a screen of bubbles obscuring much of the view and adding to the racket. Why the [pandemonium?]

Not much of an answer was given as she surfaced. A press of adults at the edge of the swimming pool, now not sweating in the heat of summer but fear, eyes white and grabbing children as they scrambled up the pool’s edge, like wildebeest up scree [lol]. And there she bobbed, still in the water now - for no obvious reason - declared lava/full of crocodiles. Where w blaaahhhhh

Lol I’m not even getting to the actual point!

[starting badly lol] Muffled yelling, water all around me obscuring/dulling[xxx] the words. Not the joyous shouts of children racing and diving for coins from minutes ago but from adults the now, real fear. I opened my eyes, chlorine stinging them but dulled from the last week’s practice/experience[XXX], half-expecting to see a shark in the water. But only the bubbles being dragged through the water as the other children waded back, parents running to grab them.

I surfaced to puzzle out the panic, to see my own mother calling me back, her face shot with a greater anxiety than I’d ever seen it. I guessed we were to get out of the water as soon as possible, and so swam to the nearest ladder, though found my exit impeded by another group of adults on a central island in the outside pool[XXXearlier]. Their legs parted for a moment and a caught a glimpse of a young boy on the floor, whiter than any kid playing in a beach resort should be in late summer. He wasn’t moving, the adults were panicking. Mum called my name again, this time with a tone and I pushed away, swimming to the shallower end within moments to be grabbed by her with a towel.

Yeah I’m uncomfortable LOL but I like writing memoirs from fictional characters, especially if it’s as though they’re near-dictating. It’s just ongoing self-loathing.