#majask

ive been writing for ~15 years and as that puts me starting at age seven, yes, i was terrible. nobody's a born writer! it's a skill just like drawing and we all start at stick figures. i still struggle to this day, and i always will - it's a constant process of reading and rereading, learning and relearning, writing and rewriting. but the good news is there's only way to go, and that's up!

when i was first starting to seriously create things i wanted to post, i had all the unearned confidence of a white man at a car dealership. i paid very little attention to things like characterization and pacing and... good plots in general... i wrote with the blind belief that i was making something enjoyable, because i was enjoying making it, and that's all that really mattered. i was right about that, but i was also a middle schooler with no understanding of a semicolon, so i had the spirit but not a lot of foundationals.

my best advice to new writers is that you've always told stories. if you've ever lied, if you've ever told a friend what happened to you on the bus that morning, if you've ever reminisced about something from childhood, you have told a story. you had a plot, characters, setting, action, resolution, and you told it all in your own words. all you have to do is write it down.

these were things i had to learn:

my personal style involves a very poetic flow. it very often makes me rather wordy and i struggle to be concise. sometimes less is more, especially in really tense action scenes or very emotional moments.

the thesaurus is great when you see yourself repeating words, but you can't just pick any synonym. they have weight, and have to fit both the action AND the mood. also, said isn't dead, it's okay to use it that often.

outlines are your friend. even if what you wanna do changes halfway through, at least you'll have a rough sketch of what feeling you were going for, and that's invaluable in figuring out where your story is going and what you're doing for your readers.

this is so sweet, thank you so much!! i put a lot of thought into my writing and im glad it comes through.

i could say i've been writing down and telling stories since i was a kid, because it's true - i was probably seven or so when i started coming up with what my favorite characters would do in new situations! i did it purely for myself and had a grand ol time. i didn't really understand there was a fanfiction community until middle school, when i really started honing my craft lmao. altogether i've been writing all kinds of stories for about 15 years, which is crazy to think about!!

in terms of tips, i've got my academic-leaning stuff (from english lit and communication degrees) and then i've got my fiction-leaning stuff (from basically everything else). if i could give my most concise general advice... it would be to write what you want to read. create stories that make your heart sing, that keep you up at night plotting, that have you bouncing in your seat. if you're having a good time writing it, odds are other people will have a good time reading it. does this plotline spark joy? then fuckin go crazy go stupid and make yourself some serotonin!!

I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY HONORED AND SHOCKED AND HAPPY AND IN AWE OF THE RECEPTION OF TNWM.

i have had the longest day and this ask?? cured my depression. my crops are flourishing. im well rested. my apartment is clean and my laundry is folded.

thank you so much for sharing my work. from the bottom of my heart it means the world to me, especially handing it to people who don’t even know who the hell these boys are and still finding emotion in it - it’s so deeply gratifying and brings me a joy i don’t have the words for, a thankfulness i could never fully convey.

here’s an attempt.

Fingertips sketch bruises and burns onto his chest, his back; gloves of pain thin to wretched rings around his forearms, everything below his elbows numb and cold. White lather spills onto his shirt, stinging and scent acidic—he swipes at hard air with a thumb he can’t feel.

The fire. The burning. It happened to him. He can’t separate it anymore. It’s his.

And Izuku isn’t.