#writerallforone

So, @eternalwritingstudent brought up a great point about support in the writeblr community, and lack thereof.

Putting your work out there is hard enough. But when you don’t get any response it can get really disheartening. Yes I know we’re not entitled to people’s likes and reblogs but when it happens it’s such a motivating feeling- something which isn’t seen or emphasised enough on this platform.

The writing community has always been about helping and supporting and motivating other writers, and that is trending downwards on tumblr. And I want to try and change that.

So I’m starting a #writerallforone - where writeblrs of all age and popularity can work together to support everyone and not just a select few.

I’ve opened my submissions for this very reason, and I hope other writeblrs will do the same. So if you have a piece of writing, a mood board or artwork etc you want to share, submit it (following guidelines,) and I’ll queue it up for you.

I’m also starting a #writeblrff - writeblr follower Friday, where you tag your favourite writeblrs for others to follow.

Will this get many notes? I don’t believe it will. But if even a few writeblrs join me, then we can start to make a difference. Please let me know if you would like to join me!

She was floating.

Detached from reality, her mind was adrift. She wasn't sure whether it felt like she was above a still body of water or within the clouds. But she was floating.

Her mind was foggy, but through the mist came the ideas and images. And the fantasy begins to form.

The tendrils of her reality dripped into her daydream, poisoning it's purity with a loss of control.

She pulled the thoughts one way, and the dragged her in another, making her frown as this was meant to be hers.

But like reality, choices had to have consequences.

Unlike reality, however, she could fly. She could work up the courage to kiss the one she'd been interested in for years. She could laugh out loud and not be self conscious about the curves and scars and marks of her body.

How can you think about such things when you're too busy trying to weave a narrative? Trying to remove the flies which stuck to the webbing, sending trickles through the story and curving the ideas into something else.

The thoughts were not clear, her web covered in condensation from the fog, preventing her from seeing everything. But she could see another to get lost in her little world.

Eventually she had to wake from it, even though she wasn't asleep. A sound, or slight movement, would pull her far enough out of the world that returning was impossible, that continuing the narrative was no longer within her capability.

Falling for you is like

falling for a lie,

like turning blind eyed

where it shines in bright light…

like clutching thrones

till these fingers bleed,

The aim has never been the rose,

it has always been the throne…

Falling for you is like falling for a dream ,

like falling from a cliff only to reach

where darkness neither

starts or ends…

Like a void fantasy ,

Which I can only chase

while am asleep

But when the time of dawn comes

How I create characters

Characters are not something I enjoy creating.

Let me rephrase that. I enjoy making characters, but I don’t have the patience to fully mould 3 dimensional characters before I start writing.

I’m a firm believer that you get to know your characters while you write, and that spending hours filling in character questionnaires with questions like ‘what is their greatest fear,’ or ‘if they…

It has come to my attention that my revision for my WIP NEPHILIM begins again in April. It’s been so long since I’ve worked on it, I’ve decided I need a fresh set of eyes to help me out a little.  I’m hoping to get around 5-10 beta readers this time around, who can read and comment in a couple of months.

Nephilim- draft five

Word count- 85k, 28 chapters

Genre- Urban fantasy

Synopsis: 

‘It all started when Alison Grace Marshall was attacked by a Shadow with wings. Brought to the mysterious and eccentric Mac, she discovers she is a Nephilim. A half human, half angel hybrid tasked with preventing the leak of Sin into our world.

Aly agrees to help, and begins developing her new found Celestial powers, in both her mortal form, and with the use of her Halo. Her only focus is to learn all she can in order to help protect the world, but there are outside forces who want something more.

An ancient evil begins to rise, moving their pieces onto the playing field, setting up something and no one seems to know what that is. Aly and her new friends find themselves caught up in the game of cat and mouse between the Angels up high and their enemies below, a battle the Nephilim are not supposed to be involved in.

Can Aly and her friends escape the pull that brings them closer to the fray? Or will they find themselves the focus of a battle that shouldn’t be theirs?’

(If you want to read more about the characters, go here)

I’m looking for beta readers who can give detailed critique- the harsher the better (I’m such a weirdo,) especially regarding overall plot and character. 

I plan to send out a link for google docs on the 3rd March for anyone interested. If you would like to volunteer your help, please fill in this form.  

When I was young, I used to collect secrets. I learnt that they made you powerful, that the rumours you could memorise gave you more power over others than chains ever could. 

When I was young, people used to trust me with such secrets. I was quiet, and didn’t pass on information. 

I would hoard these secrets. Written down in a pink diary, locked with a key hidden in a jewelry box. The best secrets I wrote in glitter pen, the poison they could potentially contain softened by the sparkles.

I only used the secrets when I was desperate. When my friends had been hurt, and I could help. I’d weave my webs through others, starting from loyal sources and eventually making there ways to my target. They’d get trapped in the net like a fly, and when I started to feel them struggle only then would I stop, leaving them.

It was cruel. But cruelty is a game for children, with no real consequences.

I tried to hoard secrets as I grew older. The toxicity in my mind poisoned my soul, but I hardly noticed. For secrets held power. I’d exchange knowledge for favours, sometimes minor, sometimes life changing. 

But the secrets began to bite back, once tame on leashes now angered, impatient and impulsive. They’d scratch at their cages, howl to be released. Keeping them at bay took more than I could handle, and whenever I opened the door to shove another one in, at least one nearly always escaped.

I was losing my power.

Little did I know, my own secrets had become apart of my games as well. Playing meant they were one of the card on the table, potentially able to be flipped at any moment. And while they claim the house always wins, if someone, just one person, is smart enough to pull out before their own chips fall, that information became theirs for the keeping with no blackmail holding them back.

Welcome back to another Writeblr Follow Friday everyone. Here is this weeks list of recommendations. 

@etjwrites

An amazing homepage. Seriously, you can find everything here. As well as tons of information on her novels, she has a great page of writing/publishing tips. 

@jessica-shouldbewriting

So sweet, and gives/reblogs some great advice. She’s looking to do a WIP introduction, so if anyone has tips, let her know!

@typewriter-jade

So friendly! Some great conversations pop up on her page, as well as some great reblogs and excerpts.

@cogesque