Have you made it to 1667 words today? No?
Thatās ok! How about you write 200 words right now? Just real quick, it doesnāt have to be good.
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Have you made it to 1667 words today? No?
Thatās ok! How about you write 200 words right now? Just real quick, it doesnāt have to be good.

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Nanowrimo still going strong! Some days it flows easy, some days it feels like running a marathon in molasses. But you know what they say, the only thing a first draft has to do is exist
Take frequent breaks (drink water too!) and do your goddamn wrist stretches
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Welcome to Day 4 of NaNoWriMo
Tip for the day:
Keep writing. Don't look back. Editing can come later.
š¶ Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime, thatās why I write on company time š¶

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NaNo Day 3 update!
Thoughts: So the first two days went pretty well, and so did today :) feeling really happy I made a nice, finalized outline of my story. And so far, no plot holes! Yay!
Iāve been writing a lot at work, definitely the bonus of having a job thatās partly behind a desk. But you know what they say, boss makes a dollar, I make a dime, thatās why I write novels on company time.
Anyway, the story feels like itās flowing so far. Iāve definitely started finding the charactersā voices, which is great. That definitely means Iāll have to go back to the beginning and do some touching up, though.
Excerpt of the day: āCan I help you?ā An older woman asked, lifting her head as Anika approached.
āYeah, Iād like to speak with Detective Brennan.ā
The woman tapped away on her keyboard, though Anika wasnāt sure if she was actually looking something up, or just trying to seem busy. āMay I ask what this is regarding?ā
āThe Naveen Bhatia case,ā Anika said, āheās in charge of it.ā
The woman nodded. āWell, he should be in. Why donāt you take a seat and Iāll see if I can find him for you?ā
Before Anika could move, a door on her right side swung open, and by some miracle Izzy appeared. He was holding a paper cup with fresh coffee sending up wisps of steam. His eyes were on his coffee. He was completely oblivious of her until he finally glanced up, looked right at her, and muttered, āAh, shit.ā
The image of him casually sipping a cup of coffee made her irrationally angry. With her brother missing, who-knows-where, it seemed absolutely incredulous that heād be taking the time for a coffee break.
āCoffee break, huh?ā Her voice held more of a taunt than sheād intended.
Izzy initially responded with a long sip of coffee, before adding, āI needed some caffeine.ā
āLooks like it.ā
He shifted where he stood. āAnyway, whatāre you doing here?ā
Was it hard to guess? āI want to know if thereās been any progress into my brotherāsā¦ā She still couldnāt manage to say that word. Disappearance. It was a word that resonated with uncertainty and the unknown. A reminder that not only was Nav gone, but he could be just about anywhere.
Izzy sighed, āYou couldnāt call first?ā He glanced at the receptionist, as if looking for someone to back him up. āIām busy, for Christās sake.ā
āYeah. Looks like it.ā
āHey, as a worker in the United States of America, Iām entitled to my fifteen minute break. Labor laws,ā He toasted the cup at no one in particular, then added in a voice laden with sarcasm, āGod Bless this country.ā
She offered an exaggerated roll of her eyes at his faux patriotism. āAre you going to talk to me or not?ā
āNot for the nextā¦ā Izzy glanced at his watch, ā...one minute and twenty seconds, Iām not. But I have an office in the back. We can talk there.ā Then his eyes moved past Anika and settled on Ben. āUnfortunately your boyfriend canāt come. Itās an active investigation, so no one but family. You understand.ā
Ben nodded, then said to Anika, āIāll wait out here. Take as long as you need.ā
***
Izzyās office was small and simply decorated, with two large windows overlooking the stationās parking lot. If she didnāt know any better, Anika would have sworn that heād just moved into space. Though she had a feeling that the soulless design of the room was more a reflection on Izzy as a person than anything else. There was a single photograph on his desk, a tiny plastic cactus, and a degree hanging on the wall. Those three items were the only bits of personal flare she could find.
She was sitting in one of the chairs studying his framed Bachelorās degreeā Criminal Justice from San Francisco Stateā when the door opened. Izzy breezed in, an empty coffee cup in his hand. He tossed it across the room towards the waste basket by his desk. It hit the rim and bounced unceremoniously to the floor.
āSee that?ā He tsked, āI used to be a stud on the court, years and years ago. Best white kid to ever do it. Now I canāt even sink a paper cup into a trash can.ā
Anika highly doubted he had ever had athletic prowess, but didnāt feel the need to engage him in that conversation. āSo?ā
āSo?ā She couldnāt tell if he was unsure of how to start the conversation or if he was trying to mock her.
āMy brother. Updates?ā
Welcome to Day 3 of NaNoWriMo
Tip for the day:
Write.
āA writerās problem does not change. He himself changes and the world he lives in changes but his problem remains the same. It is always how to write truly and having found what is true, to project it in such a way that it becomes a part of the experience of the person who reads it.ā
ā Ernest Hemingway (via quitexinfamous)
Another writeblr had a neat idea for a campfire / bridging story, and I wanted to try something similar! Basically the goal is to reply to the previous story with a continuing paragraph to let ideas flow from different writers. Iāll start.
///
Alex went to the edge of the woods to investigate the strange phenomenon going on. Tree branches bending, the sky turning purple, mist covering the ground ankle-high. He wasnāt sure what he would find, but he needed to find proof of somethingās existence, and he brought along a camera to assist him. He heard distant sounds, quiet and sharp, but the source was nowhere around. The camera was ready to take pictures, held tightly in his grip, and a cold chill descending down his spine. The noises grew louder, sounding much like a personās.
Keep reading
Alex tried to make his feet step as lightly as he could, to not startle whoever was there. Unfortunately, he wasnāt used to being this sneaky, so every step met with loud crunches.
Excitement burst through him. Finally, he could show the jerks at school that he could do something useful.
The cold-chill down his spine was nothing - he blamed it on the cool breezes.
The bending branches were straight out of one his sci-fi stories - but he was sure there was a reasonable explanation.
Rustling erupted from the foliage in front of him. He raised his camera just in time to seeā¦
Himself. Alex froze in place, the shiver in his spine growing more intense. It was like looking at a mirror, but there was no frame or glass. This other-Alex was paler than him, its eyes seemed distant and cloudy, and there was a peculiar smell coming from its jacket. The branches were all bending towards the thing, like their gravity was centered around it. Alex held out his hand, and the other-Alex did the same, but much slower. The closer their fingers were to touching, the more Alexās nerves flared, begging him not to go any further.
āWhat the hellā¦ā Alex mumbled.
The other-Alex opened its mouth, but did not speak. There was a low moan coming from its throat, though it didnāt sound like it was coming from the other-Alex, but rather somewhere further inside of it, like an echo in a cave. The mist grew thicker in response. Alex decided to take another photo of this thing before the mist could obstruct it.
That was when it started to scream.
Keep reading
Alex felt a powerful charge of energy and dropped his camera in surprise. The scream was a blood curdling one. He covered his ears with his hands, felt his knees buckle, the snow soaking his jeans (had there been snow before?) and with tears pouring down his cheeks, he looked at the thing screaming. Its face has contorted grotesquely and blood was trickling down its pale face. āDo you know how it feels to he so broken, you start to scream?ā A woman was towering over the real Alex and he looked up in alarm. With the scream still ringing in his ears, he could barely hear her. She was beautiful with snow flakes flecked in her bright red hair. āYou made him a monster. That means you are a monster, Alex.ā She spoke serenely like talking about the weather. āW-what?ā Alex stammered.
Iām tagging: @papercutsunset, @athenswrites, @char-writes, @magefaery @aloeverawrites and anyone else who would like to do this :)
āThe combination of every cruel thing youāve done, to yourself and others. In one form.ā
She sighed at it as the bloodcurdling screams continued to ring out, ricocheting relentlessly through the forest.
āA common punishment. It was meant for me, so I guess I should be thanking you. You really shouldnāt be poking around where you donāt belong though. You just stumbled into hell.ā She smiled at him, the smile not reaching the coldness of her eyes.
āHopefully you survive the next stage. Goodbye, Alex.ā
The snow whips up and circles her, a flash lighting up the ice as she disappears.
His throat constricts and keeps his question from tumbling out in the cold air in a horrified whisper.
The thing reaches out for him.
Tagging: @tiffanys-and-writing , @francestroublr , @livingdeadwriteblr , @bardic-talesĀ Ā and @athenswrites. No pressure!
Now, he couldnāt talk or scream. Alex could only think back upon his life and how he came to this point.
Mr. O'malley was proud back then and gifted Alex his first camera, the very one laying on the ground. It took a step forward, and the creatureās heavy weight snapped the former birthday present beneath its heel.
His thoughts snapped back to the present. The muscles beneath the creatureās flesh undulated. Bones popped and echoed around the forest floor. It opened its mouth. Its mouth unhinged like that of a boa constrictor. Five rows of jagged teeth glinted against its gore covered jaws. Black blood rushed up from its throat and poured over its lips. His mortal mind couldnāt give form to the horror he was really seeing.
The abomination wrapped its hand around Alexās throat. Its curved claws bored into his flesh. Blood poured from the wounds, wetting his collar, and plopping on the snow-covered ground: red against white.
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The tight grip cut off his airway, leaving him fighting for a breath he couldnāt take. His fingers pulled futilely at the creatureās hands. Darkness was closing in from his peripherals, leaving the beastās gaping jaws framed by an ever-encroaching circle of black.
Fear filled him as his vision faded, but it wasnāt the thought of death that paralyzed him. All he could think about the red-headed woman, and her parting words. I hope you survive the next stage. The vague warning was enough to make death seem inviting. He would know what to expect then. Lights out, then nothingness. Or maybe a white light and set of pearly gates perched atop clouds. Either way, this would be over. But as his eyes fluttered closed, he knew this nightmareā whatever it wasā was just beginning.
The moment his eyes fell closed, they flew open again. The beast was gone, as was the falling snow. He slowly came up to an elbow and looked around. The first thing he noticed wasā¦
@midnightsoliloquy @chauceryfairytales @annarts05 @thatprolificauthor @rinatthemin
Hey yaāll, if youāre facing the enormous task of editing your novel, I shared my general method for how I go about the editing process. Take a little looksie if you wish!
While scrolling on Pinterest one day, I came across this picture: This is called āDorodangoā, otherwise known as the Japanese Art of Polishi

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INTERACT WITH THIS POST IF YOU WANT TO BE ON MY WRITING GAMES TAG LIST!
Iām making a taglist for the Tumblr games I might do. You will be tagged in every single post that featuring said content that I post onĀ Written Musings
These games tend to be writing in nature, but I may occasionally tag for Uquiz.
Instructions:
Please interact with this post if you would like to be added to my tag list for tumblr games, such as WIP Wednesday. DoĀ notĀ interreact whatsoever (including liking this) if you do not wish to be tagged.
By liking, commenting, or reblogging this post, youāre telling me, bardic-tales, you would like to be on my Tumblr Games tag list.
Youāre welcome to DM me or send me an ask if it makes you more comfortable.
i know itās never too late to start things but i often find myself wishing i could start over so that i could begin working on the things i actually want to do earlier, then maybe iād be somewhere by now
I used to feel this way too, but remember, better late than never! And when it comes to your passions, thereās no such thing as too late. When I write and I feel bad that I should have made more progress by this point in my life, I remember all the life experience Iāve gained and the practice Iāve put it, and know itās these things that help make my writing better.
Thereās no age limit to success! If youāre still breathinā you can keep on dreaminā!
if youāre not paying attention to trees and how they sway in the wind then what are you even doing
oh hohoho the writing is flowing right now, and it is making my brain chemicals very happy.
i love you films without sequels i love you limited series i love you stand alone novels i love you self-contained stories

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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How I actually look while waiting for my beta readers to get back to me with feedback on my WIP.
Well I just made a website
Per the advice of my writer friends and editor, I have made myself a website. Feel free to take a look while I reckon with the mortifying ideal of being known.
Mostly stuff about me, my current WIP, and a blog soon to be full of advice, inspiration, and weekly quotes.
Much to the chagrin of my biological father, I am not a web designer, but I think I cobbled together something workable. Function over form in this house, people.
Hello, Iām Augustine I'm an author in the process of getting my first novel published! I love all parts of the writing process, from charact