Hi I'm Nicky. I'm 27. This is where I put snippets of what I write and reblog writing advice/inspiration/positivity. I follow from my main blog languageisbae.
Fantasy Guide: Common battle wounds and how to fix them
Arrow wounds: Now if the lung, heart, kidney, other major organ is hit, there may be little to do. The kidney has a back up, so maybe a skilled surgeon could save him, not exactly sure however. If hit by an arrow and not hit dangerously in an organ or artery, we can help. Firstly, DO NOT REMOVE arrow by yanking. Arrow must be worked from the skin by skilled hands. Once arrow is out, wash would with clean water/alchohol/herbal remedies. To heal slow, sew up wound and wrap in bandages. To speed it up, cauterise the wound with fire. It will hurt and patient pay pass out but now the arrow wound can heal faster. This works for crossbow bolts as well. On the gross side, arrows may be smeared with dirt or shit, so sepsis is a danger. This is how the great Richard the Lionheart died. Sometimes the mighty lion is killed by a shit arrow. But hey, shit happens. Arrow wounds take a couple of weeks to heal.
Sword slashes: if shallow, wash and bind up. May require stitches. If deeper, repeat process with more stitches and more bandages. Even if shallow, the cut must be washed using alcohol or clean water. May take a few days to weeks to heal depending on wound depth and severity.
Stab wound: Again donât remove knife or object. If already removed, wash would and sew it up. You may need to cauterise. If guts, organs, brain, is falling out, there is nothing to do. This may take a couple of weeks to months to heal depending on wound.
Broken Bones: A break must be splinted with a board of wood and bandages. Slings can support arms and wrists. If your character breaks a leg, it may be worse. Breaks donât heal great without modern medicine. Your character may have a limp or leg pain. In youâre are living in a hot climate, youâre pretty much fucked because infection sets in fast. These may take months to heal.
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to you, it's a shitty sentence. to some random bitch 500 miles away, it's a fire line that'll haunt them for the next 17 years.
you don't know how impactful your writing is because it's been in your brain for far too long now. you've stared at it for hours and repeated "this sucks" over and over again to the point that you killed your capacity to feel anything about your work.
but trust me, once you get your shit out there, someone's gonna go over that paragraph you hate and go "jesus fucking christ" and put the book down to have an existential crisis.
another note: trash now could be treasure for your FUTURE SELF. Do you know how many times I wrote something, thought it was mid to garbage, only to discover it was some of my favorite writing that I had ever done?
When you are a writer, you are not a reader. You see all the threads of fabric holding your story together and not the masterpiece. While you are trying to reword a sentence for a 10th time, someone else read the first try and thought it was fine. I promise you that your writing is better than you think it is, and even if you never grow to like it it will teach you so much. Keep going even when writing feels shitty because you will look back and think you were boo boo the fool for feeling discouraged about a good story.
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"what advice do you have for new writers?" well i could say the typical (but important!) "practice" "read books" but my PERSONAL advice as someone who's been writing since he was a toddler is as follows: feel every emotion u can & touch every texture u can & search for obscure facts or antiquated words or animal behavior or something you wouldn't normally think about. the most arbitrary things can bring inspiration. branch out! leave your comfort zone and seek things that are new & unknown to you. learn to find wonder and beauty in some aspect of the world, but hopefully many aspects. learn how to be patient tbh. fall in any kind of love with anything. most importantly treat yourself with kindness and care and forgiveness - i get wanting to write about pain, trust me, but also trust me, your writing will evolve as your perception of yourself softens. oh yeah and always have a pen on you
actually, i wanna talk about nature tropes in fantasy/otherwise "speculative" media because fiction has these stock tropes about nature that are so universal throughout everything from books to video games, and it turns out that they have nothing to do with reality
For starters, did y'all know that (with the exception of one species) cacti are ONLY native to the Americas, and deserts on all other continents have NO CACTI?
Does that mean that Africa, in similar situations, mostly has spiky shrubs (without those water-consuming green things called leaves) and yams-like storage roots?
Or are there further concepts?
What does Australia do?
I know about succulents, and that they're also fairly common in the Alps (I don't know if they're native there, but the local name, "Hauswurz" - literally "house root" or "home root" - indicates as much).
Which aren't deserts in the narrower sense, but also not exactly known for rich flora, due to the altitude, low amount of topsoil, and cold.
Have you reached a level that permits you to see patterns that shape plant life in an area? It sounds a bit like you're in an area of frequent enlightenment...
Well the thing about plants is that they are much, MUCH weirder than animals are about radically altering and reshuffling their basic body forms and plans over the course of evolution, even within the same genus.
If you saw this plant, what would you assume its closest relatives are?
If you answered "violets," good job! This is Viola atropurpurea, from the same genus as your common backyard violets.
This is weird. Can we talk about how weird this is? This is like if tigers and lions shared the genus Panthera with some kind of tiny aquatic salamander-like thing.
Cacti are a specific plant family. Succulent plants have convergently evolved approximately a billion times and come from (almost) every corner of the plant family tree. The universality of cacti as the iconic Desert Plant has much to do with the average person not knowing the great variety of desert adapted plants, and mentally categorizing unrelated succulent plants as cacti because "cactus" is the closest word they have.
Desert plants are weird y'all. A ton of them look like weird mushroom- or barrel-like bulges and tubes. Like, just look at this thing.
This is called "Sand Food" and it's edible
This is Yareta and there are no photos of it that are like "Yeah that is a normal, real thing." (It's not moss! It's a flowering plant!)
You just gotta unclog the pipe. Are you dumb now? No. The water was sitting stagnant because you were busy doing other things (100% fine btw). If any 'dumb' got in the water then it will quickly leave once you let the water start flowing again. Go get all the stupid out into a doc that doesn't matter. Even several of them. It might take a good while, especially if you're returning to writing after years or after a period of intense burnout, or both (waves). But you're just rusty, and letting that stop you will only ensure you stay stuck! Go forth and write some nonsense!
(Note: This little snippet is made up entirely of dialogue. Just a fun little idea I had a while ago. â-â between paragraphs indicates some time has passed.)
(Summary: Two best friends who are witches. And thereâs an abusive boyfriend.)
Page: âSo⊠I may have turned my boyfriend to stone⊠again.â
Shaaron: âAgain!? Seriously?â
Page: âCome on! Are you gonna help me or what?â
Shaaron: âI honestly just canât believe that youâre dating this fool. What kind of man isnât even capable of defending himself from a simple curse?â
Page: âOh, donât be like that, Shaaron. You know Iâm not dating him for his magical capabilities. Heâs actually a decent guy.â
Shaaron: âUh-huh.â
Page: âWell, at least heâs better than my ex.â
Shaaron: âThatâs not saying much.â
Page: âHey, whatâs a girl gonna do?â
Shaaron: âNot just date any loser that comes along, thatâs for sure!â
Page: âJust help me undo the spell, okay?â
Shaaron: âWhy canât you do it yourself?â
Page: âLook, I create the mess, you fix it. Thatâs how itâs always been. If I try, Iâm just gonna make it worse. Do you want the poor guy to end up with six eyes and warts all over his body?â
Shaaron: âTempting⊠but fine, Iâll do it. Just stop looking at me like that.â
Page: âLike what?â
Shaaron: âForget it. Iâm coming over. Donât move.â
-
Shaaron: âTo be honest, I like him better like this.â
Page: âShut up!â
Shaaron: âItâs true! At least now I donât have to smell his cheap cologne.â
Page: âTsss⊠at least he wears cologne.â
Shaaron: âOh my! He wears cologne! He showers What a catch! Youâre really praising men for doing the bare minimum.â
Page: âIâm just trying to stay positive.â
Shaaron: âUh-huh. I just hope he ainât positive.â
Page: âShaaron!â
Shaaron: âWhat?â
Page: âHeâs not like that!â
Shaaron: âHow do you know? Youâve known him for, what, three weeks?â
Page: âWhen did you become such a man-hater?â
Shaaron: âIâm not a man-hater. Youâre just a danger magnet. Always getting yourself into trouble.â
Page: âWhich is exactly why weâre here.â
Shaaron: âRight. So, what even happened?â
Page: âWell⊠were arguing.â
Shaaron: âAbout?â
Page: â...â
Shaaron: âCome on, spit it out!â
Page: âYou.â
Shaaron: âMe?â
Page: âYou. He saw your last text and thought I was cheating on him.â
Shaaron: âOooh, you still have my number saved as âsoulmeatâ?â
Page: âYeah, only he didnât get the joke.â
Shaaron: âOf course he didnât.â
Page: âWell, your message didnât help either.â
Shaaron: âWhy? What was wrong with my message?â
Page: âIt was just a winking emoji followed by a kissing emoji.â
Shaaron: âRight. So when you explained it to himâŠâ
Page: âHe didnât believe me.â
Shaaron: âParanoid dick. But - wait!â
Page: âWhat?â
Shaaron: â...â
Page: âOh spit it out already!â
Shaaron: âHe didnât hurt you, did he?â
Page: âOf course notâŠâ
Shaaron: âOh he is so dead!â
Page: âShaaron, wait!â
Shaaron: âGive me one good reason to let him live.â
Page: âBecause I donât want you to go to jail??â
Shaaron: âPage⊠What did he do?â
Page: âNothing.â
Shaaron: âYou canât lie to me and you know it.â
Page: âCanât we just forget about this?â
Shaaron: âNo! This asshole hurt my best friend! How am I supposed to just forget about that?â
Page: âPlease? For me?â
Shaaron: âPageâŠâ
Page: âIt was nothing. Really!â
Shaaron: âYou can tell me.â
Page: âHe just got angry, ok?â
Shaaron: âAnd he hurt you.â
Page: âJust - just a little. He didnât mean to. Iâm telling you, heâs not like that!â
Shaaron: âWhy are you defending him?â
Page: âWhat do you want me to do?â
Shaaron: âHere. Letâs start with this.â
-
Page: âWhat kind of spell was that?â
Shaaron: âA conditional curse-breaker. He will return to normal in about two hours. And he will know to keep his distance from you after that if he knows whatâs good for him.â
Page: âWhere are you going?
Shaaron: âHome of course. And you are coming with me.â
Page: â...â
Shaaron: âYou are not staying here, Page. You deserve so much better. Come on, letâs have a movie marathon together.â
Page: â... Iâd like that.â
Shaaron: âSee? Thereâs your beautiful smile. Letâs go, soulmeat. Weâve got a bunch of horror flicks waiting for us.â
-
Page: âShaaron?â
Shaaron: âHmm?â
Page: âThanks.â
Shaaron: âYouâre welcome, cutie. Now quit hogging the popcorn.â
Page: âLove you too.â
Too busy with school work to write. Maybe a week from now Iâll get back to it.
In the meantime I want to come up with some beautiful fantasy landscapes. The story Iâm currently working on (the one about fairies) is set inside a forest in the beginning. Iâd like to have a lake or a waterfall in this forest as well. Then later on there is a small town. I need to decide what time period I actually want this story to be in, in order to know what the town will look like. Iâm leaning towards historic, and like european-ish. Maybe taking inspiration from the Blackforest. I know that there are definitely different zones/landscapes in this world, but my plot so far only takes place in the forest and the town. If my main characters visit any other places, I will have to figure that out as it happens. Iâm going to try to find some pictures to get more inspiration.
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You know what I'm a slut for? When a character visibly drops a ruse. Like, the way their face changes the moment they give up a facade and reveal themselves.
This applies to revealing love, apathy, anger, evil intent. I mcfuckin love it.
Angst version: gothic horror story, 2nd person pov of a restless water spirit haunting the container shi
Humor version: ancient egyptian, grecian & mesopotamian water gods having a huge argument over whose job it is to Unstick The Ship. Everyone is incredibly unhelpful, especially Poseidon and various Nile River Gods.
Iâve already started on the Angst one, but would like to gauge interest in the Humor version
âAm I telling you Osiris engineered Brexit? Iâm not telling you Osiris didnât engineer Brexit.â
âWe seriously couldnât get anyone from the Norse pantheon?â âThe Ragnarök deadline got pushed forward again, theyâre working ungodly amounts of overtime.â
âChrist!â
âOk wait, the ship entered the canal from the Red Sea, right? Whose jurisdiction is the Red Sea under?â There was a silence thick enough to smother all the firstborns in Egypt.
Inanna, Sumerian goddess, oldest dieity still known to humans, who due to seniority has the dubious pleasure of chairing these very productive meetings
Sobek, cheerful Nile god with a crocodile head and a REALLY big smile
Tefnut, wrathful lion-headed water goddess whoâs really just here in case Sobek bites something (not to help or anything she just enjoys the show)
Hapi (they/them), androgynous god of flooding who is (huge surprise) in favor of flooding the canal. they are not allowed to do that
Poseidon, who has been unbearably smug ever since the rise of neo-hellenism
Charybdis, whirpool sea monster who is just happy to be included!
mentioned: Osiris, Isis, Zeus (bc Suez spelled backwards), Njörðr, and a bunch of lousy gods of the wind who probably caused this whole mess in the first place
This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.
Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)
Length: 2.3k words
[ WIP Intro ]
Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasnât following her anymore.
A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasnât a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. Thatâs exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.
âFuck-â A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.
Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.
âI didnât know you could run that fast,â the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that werenât blocky signs. âSurprised you didnât lose your hat.â
Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. âWhere are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettieâs on Monday.â
She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didnât see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. âBenny Iâm not playing. Where the hell are you?â She couldnât hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldnât gauge where he was.
Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.
Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.
âI got you good, didnât I?â He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.
âYeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.â
âHey, thatâs not fair! You know volunteers donât make squat here-â Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didnât make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. âBut I guess itâs the least I could do for doing that.â He pointed down at her green trousers.
A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. âLuckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. Câmon, letâs finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.â
The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldnât remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.
âHow many people usually camp here during breaks?â Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.
âCould be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.â Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. âJust be glad youâre not working at any of the offices this weekend. Iâd take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.â
âI canât thank you enough, you know.â An elbow bumped Jackieâs arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. âIf it werenât for you, Richards probably wouldâve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.â
Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. âIt wasnât all me. Youâve got the passion for this. The drive. Canât say the same for some of the other volunteers-â
A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldnât have.
âDamnâŠâ Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.
âCâmon, ranger,â he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. âNo dilly dallying!â
âYou just want to write up a citation.â She snorted and followed alongside him. âYouâre starting to sound like the captain.â
Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.
WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.
âHave these signs always been here?â Bennyâs voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. âI donât remember them putting these up.
âI donât either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they werenât up for much small talk.â They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. âI donât think this was a missing personâs case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.â
Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.
DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.
âDude! Youâre going to get us in trouble!â A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.
âThis path is restricted.â Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.
Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldnât nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldnât recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.
âYou canât do that.â The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. âCâmon, man, weâre just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!â
Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Bennyâs head fall like a disappointed teacherâs. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.
âHereâs what weâre going to do-â She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. âIâll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, itâll be a $700 ticket. Got it?â
âYes, maâam.â The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.
âI thought I could do it,â Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.
âYou did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.â Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.
âBut youâre so good at it. Youâve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.â
âGeez, Iâm not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? Iâm aging by the second. Youâll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summerâs over, you dingus.â
Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.
The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.
âWhat are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.â Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.
âI donât know, but I wouldnât touch them. Letâs get to the office, the captainâs waiting for us by now.â
-
ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston
btw, if any writers out there would like me to check out their wips/ interact/ reblog/ give feedback/ talk about whatever, just send me a message or like this post because Iâm a bit out of the loop and would like to see what yâall are working on.
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So the fairytale Iâm writing for my English 101 class is basically Hansel and Gretel, but their mom goes after them to save them.
Really would have rather gone with an original fairy tale instead of twisting a traditional one, but itâs college, what can ya do.
Still wanting to write my fairy story though. Iâm just going to drop the synopsis for that one here in case anyone is interested:
Golden: A Tale of Two Fairies:
Aelli, a fairy who lives deep in the woods with her tribe, learns that she has a twin sister who was taken by humans when she was a baby. So she decides to go looking for her. She soon gets captured by a human tribe and reaches out to the forest spirit to help her. Nola, the forest spirit, decides to aid her, but only if Aelli puts herself in her service - for eternity. Aelli agrees, knowing that the humans are about to kill her, and Nola helps Aelli escape to the nearest town. There, Nola and Aelli try to blend in with the humans and discover a tournament, orchestrated by the humans, in which they force their captive fairies to battle against each other. Hoping to find her sister there, Aelli enters into the tournament as Nolaâs fairy. But the more she sees about the horrific treatment the captive fairies have to endure, the more Aelliâs plan shifts from just wanting to find her sister to wanting to save all the fairies and end this barbaric tournament. But how will the two of them end this old and beloved tradition without getting themselves killed in the process?
So I havenât been on tumblr for a while, but Iâm back now. College is still rough, but Iâm working on a fairy tale for my English 101 class, so technically Iâm writing, and maybe Iâll stick around for a while.