w r i t e b l r

Poplar Street by Chen Chen (transcript under the cut) 

I no longer feel anything except a rhythm, an irresistible impulse; I drive off, I have driven off, I keep going, the engine purrs. I feel the speed of my soul.

Jean-Paul Sartre, The Words: The Autobiography of Jean-Paul Sartre

“That life [truck-driving] is good for people. I was thankful for every day they ain’t invented yet the trucker-robots. That life is good. The road. Sky. The scenery.Except the loneliness.Except in the case of all the, y’know, loneliness.”

Martyna Majok, The Cost of Living: A Play

Tracy Chapman, “Fast Car”

Are you always moving on? Do you ever think?– read?–or are you dazed, as I am in the car, when we drive, and drive and drive, and my mind is a long peaceful smudge? 

Virginia Woolf, in a letter to Ethel Smyth

I drive around the streetsan inch away from weeping,ashamed of my sentimentality andpossible love a confused old man driving in the rainwondering where the good luckwent.

Charles Bukowski, “I Made A Mistake”

Sean Glatch ( @7-weeks), “Car Crash Hearts”

It’s an art as simple as drinking waterfrom a tin cup; of loving that momentat the end of autumn, say, when the airholds no more promises, and the days are short / and likely to be gray. And there, just when you’re feeling your weakest, / it floods you completely,leaving you weeping as you drive your car.

Joe Salerno, “Poetry is the Art of Not Succeeding”

I won’t flinch andi won’t blameyou,as I drive along the shore aloneas the palms wave,the ugly heavy palms,as the living does not arriveas the dead do not leave,

Charles Bukowski, “Raw With Love”

Lana Del Rey, “Ride”

I know there’s lots of world over and above Highway 5, but when you’re driving on it–four boys in one car and it’s so peaceful, so empty for mile after mile after mile, when the radio stations cut out and there’s just static and the sound of your voices, and wind when you put your arm out to rest it on the hood–it seems you are balanced. Skimming along the rim of the universe.

Louise Erdrich, The Round House

‘Cause honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let goI’m waiting for it, that green light, I want itOh, honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let goI’m waiting for it, that green light, I want itYes, honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let goI’m waiting for it, that green light, I want itOh, I wish I could get my things and just let goI’m waiting for it, that green light, I want it

Lorde, “Green Light”

Halsey x Lido, ft. Jaden Smith, “Slow”

Oh, anywhere, driver, anywhere - it doesn’t matter. Just keep driving.It’s better here in this taxi than it was walking. It’s no good my trying to walk. There is always a glimpse through the crowd of someone who looks like him—someone with his swing of the shoulders, his slant of the hat. And I think it’s he, I think he’s come back. And my heart goes to scalding water and the buildings sway and bend above me. No, it’s better to be here. But I wish the driver would go fast, so fast that people walking by would be a long gray blur, and I could see no swinging shoulders, no slanted hat.

Dorothy Parker, “Sentiment”

The only dream I’ve had all yearis the one where I am drivingout of control. The brakes are shot,the landscape changes, accelerateinstead of stop. It’s almost tooobvious to interpret, like teethor pomegranates, or ocean.

Morgan Parker, “Beyonce in Third Person”

BLOOD UPON THE ALTAR FAKE SCREEN CAPS: Scene One, Train.

SCRIPT:

Aleks: [annoyed] I have clawed my way to where I am now. Aston: [curious] Clawed or were you favored? Aleks: Fuck you! I have fought to earn his [cuts herself off] Aston: [entertained] His what, Tasheva? Affection? Aston: [leans forward] I don’t think you like your position. Aleks: [tensely, stiffening up and growing visibly upset] I am proud to serve Sariel. Aston: No. I think you’re afraid of him. Aleks: [clearly up, clearly frustrated] Shut up! Stop talking to me. Aston: [quietly] I think something inside of you died. 

Context:

via http://imgur.com/gallery/x5mE5

Okay I had to think about this one, because I also struggle with this. Also, this is the first time I give any writing advice, so I hope it can help you. 

First a question: do you see your story as a cliche because it’s done before or because it’s predictable?

If it’s because it’s done before, don’t worry, everything has been done before. You don’t have to worry to be original, because it never really is. There will always be parts that are done before. What makes your writing different? The way you write, your own style and the characters you use. Cliches aren’t necessarily bad and you can use them, just try and don’t use too many in one story.

Using a trope that is done before isn’t necessary a cliche. It becomes a cliche when it’s done before in the exact same way over and over again. 

Usually people tend to mix trope and cliche (Me too btw 😅) but all stories are based on a certain bunch of tropes. What makes one trope different from another? Your take on it and the way your characters deal with it.

Also the mix of tropes you use can make your story more original. 

Is it because you think it’s predictable? 

There are two types of cliches character-driven cliches and plot-driven cliches.

When your cliche is character-driven, but your plot is good and unique, it’s no real problem.

When your cliche is plot-driven it’s all about your characters. Just as I said everything is done before in some way or another. But your characters and writing style are what make your story different.

You can also use a plot twist or a side plot to make it more interesting and last but not least, ask friends/readers what kind of cliches they don’t like and what they do want to see instead. (that’s what beta readers are for when you want to publish it) 

Also read a lot to see what you like yourself and to see what’s done before. Maybe you see something but think of a good twist. Reading is learning for writers and therefore really important! (And I talk about reading books here)

But tbh, don’t focus on avoiding all the cliches, because they don’t always have to be bad.

after I had spilled coffee on

my favorite dress,

lost the left shoe to my favorite

pair of slip ons,

spent half an hour on my hair

just to wear it up la st minute because

it wasn’t perfect

and my dog pee’d on the floor,

I was in a rush,

Not wanting to be late for class again,

cursing the day and every one in my way

and then I passed a funeral home

that was full of cars and people in black

and was all of a sudden

very grateful.

Because while my morning was a mess

At least I wasn’t on my way to a another funeral

Hi guys! I really want to meet some new writeblrs who I can talk to about WIPS and hyperfixate over our ocs with. If you want to make a new friend reblog this with maybe a little about yourself and your WIP!!

Here's a bit about me:

I'm Des!

They/them

WIPS include: Project: Undercity, Hopelessly in (platonic) love and Curse of the rose (working title!)

I LOVE stories with mythical beings, curses and also low-key love LGBTQ+ stories 🥺

I love making friends

We sit in your car, side by side, tears streaming down my face. I can feel the panic slowly rising out of my chest as you tell me every little thing that’s wrong with me. You say that I’m too much, too annoying, too clingy, too dramatic- that you know nineteen year olds that are less of a hassle than me. I squeeze my eyes shut as if that’s going to block out the horrible things you just said about me, but I only succeed in causing more tears to fall. I turn to you and yell that I’m only this way because I care; I always care too much, and I can’t help it. I feel the need to defend myself for caring, for asking to hang out and for getting sad when you say no. But you call that clingy and desperate. I can’t shake my head fast enough, but in my head, I am agreeing with you. Maybe I am too annoying and I ask for too much and that’s why everyone leaves me; I’m too confused and hurt to come up with any other explanation. You interrupt my thoughts by also telling me that I’m mean- that I say cruel things to you without any reason to; I’m again sitting there in disbelief. Is he referring to the time where I told him he was selfish and not a team player when we played video games because he abandoned me to do his own thing when we were playing teams? Or the time that I refused to rub his stomach after he gave me a back massage because I was uncomfortable and didn’t know what to do? Or the time I dare ask for ice water at his house because I had a headache while he called me demanding and rude? I yell at him. I tell him that, if I was mean, it was because you deserved it, because I finally had the strength to stand up for myself. I am nice to literally everyone until I have a reason not to be. If I become mean to you, it’s because you pushed me too far for the last time. His only response is to roll his eyes and declare, “Here you go, getting hysterical again, like always.” I don’t know how long I sat in that car and cried, and the only thoughts running through my head over and over was that I was going to die alone, that no one would ever want me, for who could want someone as horrible and fucked up as me? I sure as hell wouldn’t want me. But the further I got from that car, the more my thoughts cleared. It wasn’t all my fault, and between the two of us in that car, you were the mean one. You told me things that you knew would break me down, that you knew I was insecure about. You wanted to hurt me. And that’s the difference between you and me: I care too much about people that I shouldn’t while you couldn’t care less and take pride in the pain that you can inflict on others. I should’ve jumped out of that car as soon as it stopped and ran as far as I could away from you, but I guess that was my one mistake, trusting you to care about me.

Introducing AERION ; a wip by @vadamalli

AERION is centred around the divinely-bred horse from greek mythology. this wip is full of attitude, stubborn gods and one very confused, out-of-the-loop winged horse.

(template + psd by @pilipalette)

taglist (ask to be added)

WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

A B O U T.

Hi everyone! This account was previously ran by my good friend, Fria (or Alaska as you knew her) which is now given to me (along with two other blogs). For everyone’s information, she is currently on a long hiatus due to personal reasons but if you happen to miss her, you can kindly message me instead and i’ll relay it to her.

My name is Galilea (pronounced ga-lil-ya) which is a pseudonym for private means. I’m not generally new to the writeblr community though my non-existent tumblr friends can contradict that. Currently seventeen and living in a small town with a profound love for garlic and spicy food, there was no other choice left for me other than to grow up and be a writer.

M Y W R I T I N G.

My writings are not limited to selected genres because I do like exploring how my range as a writer is. But if you were really pushing on me to get an answer, I love writing literary and psychological fiction.