A place where I can collect all of the interesting tips and snippets I find while browsing. And, my weird late night ideas and prompts I someday want to write about. Go follow my other blog storyramblings for snippets of my own writing!! :) Main blog is superherosweet!
I just watched Detevtive Pikachu and let me tell you, I absolutely loved it. The animation was adorable, the storyline was interesting, the acting was great.
But before the film even started Iâd already guessed what the twist ending was going to be.
And it ruined nothing.
Not only did I get an immense sense of satisfaction, but watching the big reveal was actually my favourite part. Itâs almost like audiences wait the entire movie to see the plot-climax.
But you know who didnât guess the plot twist? My five year old brother. My little cousin. The kids I babysit for. You know, the majority of the target audience? And my dad, who wasnât particularly invested in the plot, but thought the ending tied the story up nicely.
And you know what else? No one on the creative team for DP needed to put out a big announcement saying âdo not under any circumstances spoil our filmâ and yet I hadnât encountered a single spoiler prior to watching the film today.
I know a million people have said it already, but the types of people who guess the endings of films/books/series usually do so because a) theyâre just as invested, if not more so, than the creators b) theyâre a writer themselves, therefore very familiar with plot structures c) the creators intentionally laid groundwork for their big reveal.
When DP ended I didnât think âGod, that was predictable.â I thought âwow, thatâs exactly how I wouldâve ended it if I was writing!â And thatâs not a bad thing: thatâs 100% customer satisfaction!
Stories should surprise with the little things: unexpected friendships, startlingly beautiful quotes, bursts of character development. But Iâm all for the plot being carefully laid out and easy to follow.
This!!! Iâm so sick to death of writers trying so hard to surprise their audience that they butcher characters and satisfying storytelling along the way.
Like Iâm editing an authorâs fantasy series at the moment and have accurately guessed all the major stuff that was going to happen, and that is a good thing. It means that clues were left. It means that if someone is trying hard enough to find the little details and piece it together, theyâll be able to get a good idea of where the plot and characters are heading.
An âout thereâ plot twist does not = a satisfying story/ending.
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
A fight scene should be fast-paced and intense. Unless it's a final battle with numerous parties, a fight scene that's too long tends to take away suspense. To speed up your pacing, use active voice to describe movement and don't overdescribe your characters' thoughts. Excessive inner monologue will be unrealistic, as people usually have no room to think during intense combats.
2. Character mannerisms
Here's a point that people often overlook, but is actually super important. Through fight scenes, you should be able to reveal your characters' contrasting mannerisms and personality. A cunning character would play dirty - fighting less and making use of their opponent's weakness more. A violent character would aim to kill. A softer one would only target to disarm their enemies, using weakened attacks. A short-minded character would only rely on force and attack without thinking. This will help readers understand your characters more and decide who to root for.
3. Making use of surroundings
Not only the characters, you also need to consider the setting of your fight scene and use it to your advantage. Is it suitable for fighting, or are there dangerous slopes that make it risky? Are there scattered items that can help your characters fight (e.g. nails, shards of glass, ropes, wooden boards, or cutlery)? Is it a public place where people can easily spot the fight and call the authorities, or is it a private spot where they can fight to the death?
4. Description
The main things that you need to describe in a fight scene are :
⢠Characters involved in the fight
⢠How they initiate and dodge attacks
⢠Fighting styles and any weapons used
⢠The injuries caused
Be careful to not drag out the description for too long, because it slows down the pace.
5. Raise the stakes
By raising the stakes of the fight, your readers will be more invested in it. Just when they think it's over, introduce another worse conflict that will keep the scene going. Think of your characters' goals and motivations as well. Maybe if the MC didn't win, the world would end! Or maybe, one person in the fight is going all-out, while the other is going easy because they used to be close :"D
6. Injuries
Fights are bound to be dirty and resulting in injuries, so don't let your character walk away unscathed - show the effect of their injuries. For example, someone who had been punched in the jaw has a good chance of passing out, and someone who had been stabbed won't just remove the knife and walk away without any problem. To portray realistic injuries, research well.
7. Drive the plot forward
You don't write fight scenes only to make your characters look cool - every fight needs to have a purpose and drive the plot forward. Maybe they have to fight to improve their fighting skills or escape from somewhere alive. Maybe they need to defeat the enemy in order to obtain an object or retrieve someone who had been kidnapped. The point is, every single fight scene should bring the characters one step closer (or further :D) to the climax.
-dizziness
-passing out
-severe weakness
-numbness
-weakness on one side of the body
-low blood pressure
-severe abdominal pain
-chest pain
-nausea and vomiting
In an instant, tears sprung to my eyes, a smile crawling across my face. We had spent so much time and energy to get this accomplished, and we finally succeeded.
The hero startled awake, bound and gagged. They grumbled sleepily through the cloth wrapped around their lips, and quickly realised somebody had them slung over their shoulder, carrying them through the night.
Hero screamed, the sound muffled, and started thrashing violently in their captors hold with no warning. It seemed to catch them off guard, and their captor skidded to a wobbly stop.
âHero,â came Villainâs seething voice, tightening an arm around their waist. âUnless you want to get us both killed, I suggest you shut up, and stop squirming.â
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
If itâs not too much to ask, could I request something where the hero makes a stupid mistake on accident that hurts an innocent person and realizes that theyâre no better than the villain/going to lose now but the villain stop whatever is happening and consoles/comforts them? Thank you so much!
"You know it's...not the same thing right, right?"
The hero looked up, staring blankly.
"Doing what you think is right," the villain clarified, "and screwing up because of a stupid mistake isn't the same as knowingly acting against someone's best interests."
The hero swallowed. "The end result-"
"Not everything is about the end result." The villain studied them for a moment, coolly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but intention matters. It doesn't excuse all, but it matters, as far as whatever moral dilemma you're having."
"They're hurt."
"And you weren't trying to get them hurt." The villain sounded frustrated, now. "If that's not okay, if trying isn't okay, what is? We can't do anything. Because people always get hurt, you know?"
"That's awful."
"That's life."
The hero looked down, the guilt still twisting up their guts.
"If you can't see right from wrong," the villain said, "how can you possibly hope to fight me because I'm wrong? You know. You feel bad, because someone got hurt, but part of you must know that's not the same as being a bad person."
"Why are you saying this?"
"Because I know what it is to be a bad person for nothing, and I'd rather be the villain for what I do then now then for kindness turned bitter because the world expects everyone to be pure and perfect."
The hero didn't know what to say to that. Pure and perfect was everything they had been raised on.
The villain shook their head, and turned away.
"If you lose," the villain said, summoning power to their fingertips. "It won't be because you were bad. It will be because everyone told you that good was never good enough. Who can possibly win against that?"
A is on an undercover mission to gather information at an extravagant fundraiser event. they mingle amongst powerful businessmen, dodgy politicians and underground leaders, allies and enemies alike.
the rest of their team are listening to their earpiece input back at base, taking note of everything that may be of use. among them, L, the team leader, can't place why they're feeling so nervousâit's just a regular mission.
the night is going as smoothly as it can until A encounters B at the event, someone none of the intel suggested would be present. B also happens to be one of the most famed mafia leaders known for their brutality and mercilessness. if it were between L's team and B's forces, B would win without a doubt in a landslide massacre.
the moment B's voice carries through A's earpiece, the entire team freezes in apprehension, especially L. A makes an admirable attempt to mask their shock with their small talk and innocent smile, praying to every god they can think of that B's mafia didn't have A's profile in their database as a known member of L's team. after all, they are the spyâtheir information should be encoded to the maximum level of security they can get.
the conversation seems to be relatively safe; B makes little other attempt to prod at A's background, and soon they become preoccupied with another matter, leaving A in the clear. it seems as though B hasn't caught on.
"A, get out of there," L orders as soon as B leaves, "now."
A manages to excuse themselves out of the event venue, and focuses on getting to their transportation back to base, thoroughly shaken by the mere presence of B. they've only ever heard rumours about them.
L is giving instructions when they hear a thud, and B's voice through the earpiece.
"leaving so soon?" they coo, ignoring A's sounds of protest, "we were having so much fun."
the team registers sounds of A struggling, as B fights to keep them pinned. they lean in closer. "hello, L." B drawls, and a final cry of pain from A as the sound cuts out.
L swears and slams a fist onto the table, and chaos erupts as the team's voices overlap, blaming each other for letting slip such important information and yelling about coming up with a rescue plan, even when they barely know anything about the enemy base's whereabouts.
âY-You saved me...!â - the civilian said in bewilderment, gaping at the villain who blocked a stray blast of magic that had nearly hit them.
Villain gave them a once over, checking for any injuries before returning their attention to the group of heroes watching from afar. âWell, someone had to.â
If youâre feeling lost in your 2nd Act, or noticing that things are getting slow, saggy or unraveling, here are some things to consider:
Are you weaving in your subplots? If so, can you thicken them up?
Do you have a love subplot that youâve been progressing? Are you using it to create tension and drama? Subplots (especially romantic ones) can create juicy conflict and motivation for your characters in the main plot. Add in a training subplot if your protagonist needs to know a certain skill or master a power while on their journey. Add in chaosâ an axe murder moves to town, a tormented beast breaks free from their eternal prison, an ex-girlfriend comes back into the picture. Explore other subplots and how they could beef up your middle.
Do your characters have goals? Motivations?
Iâm not talking about small goals, but the big ones that completely change your characters as they try to accomplish them. Do they want to defeat the evil villain, or do they have a murder to solve? Are they in search of their soulmate? If you donât have a clear direction of your characters goals, your 2nd Act can become hard to navigate through.Â
Have you teased the Antagonist?
Some bad guys donât ever meet or face off against the protagonist until the end, and thatâs okay as long as you weave them throughout the story. Voldemort is a good example of a villain who is sprinkled throughout the story seamlessly. Add rumors of them, strange flashbacks or visions, their evil grunts doing their dirty work and so on. Make sure to place bits and pieces of your villain throughout the story, otherwise there is no suspenseful build up.Â
Do you have a MacGuffin you could add?
An object, item or idea that your characters need to obtain, thus giving them motivation. Some definitions say that the MacGuffin should be insignificant to the characters/audience and only be used to trigger the plot into motion. We donât necessarily have any emotional ties to the Horcruxes in Harry Potter. Instead, all seven of them serve to solely propel the plot towards Voldemort and itâs end.
George Lucas, creator of Star Wars, believed that the audience should actually care about the MacGuffin as much as they do the characters. In Episode IV, the MacGuffin is the plans/blueprints of The Death Starâ a planet-destroying weapon. The characters need to steal the plans before the weapon is built. We donât want to see planets full of our favorite characters obliterated, therefore this type of MacGuffin pulls on our emotions more than the previous definition.
Could you introduce a twist?
What secrets can you reveal? What surprises can you spring on your characters and the audience? In Harry Potter, weâre caught off guard when Sirius Black is revealed not to be a bad guy, but instead an ally of Harryâs all along. Make sure youâre sprinkling in red herrings and hints along the way so that the reader doesnât feel totally blind sided, cheated or confused at the sudden change in events.
âI donât get what your problem is. Iâm your prisoner: Iâm here for you to hurt-â
âTo keep safe,â the villain snapped. âTo preserve, to- to look after. To treasure. Whoever hurt you was not following my orders and will be punished accordingly. Now, tell me who they are.â
Had to respond to this prompt! Thanks, @gingerly-writing !
CW: description of injuries, blood, etc.
The heroâs face twisted in a grimace - as much as it could through the split lip, the black eye swollen shut. âTo treasure? I liked it better when your guys were punching me.â
âOf course you did,â the villain said, wringing out the washcloth, willing themselves to be calm and patient as the soapy water in the basin clouded with red. They returned to their slow work, blotting the matted blood from the heroâs hair. âYou canât tolerate any kind of moral ambiguity. Things have to be black and white, people have to be good or evil. Thatâs why your little rebellion failed,â they couldnât help adding.
The hero finally looked at them, right at them. âWhat do you mean, thatâs why-â they started.
A tinny blare echoed across the city from the loudspeakers attached to every telephone pole, every streetlamp. Curfew. Already the evening mist was spilling down the mountainsides, lit up in red from the setting sun. From the penthouse, you couldnât see straight down to the streets but the villain could imagine it; the city inhabitants hurrying to the meager safety of their homes before the villainâs guards patrolled out looking for lawbreakers. From the heroâs silence they figured the hero was imagining it too.
âWhat do I mean?â the villain prompted, pressing the washcloth to the heroâs temple. âI mean you were just too good.â
The hero didnât turn their gaze from that million dollar view, their profile a sharp contrast against the gathering dusk. It wouldâve been the perfect moment if not for all the fucking bruises -Â
The villain clenched their fist in the washcloth and kept their temper. âYou asked too much of your people,â they went on. "Set too high a standard, demanded that they be the best version of themselves even as they starved and suffered. What a terrible burden. Why are you surprised they accepted my offer instead?â
âYour dictatorship?â the hero muttered.
âSafety. And a few simple pleasures.â The villain carefully combed their fingers through the last stubborn knots in the heroâs hair, smoothing it into place. âThatâs all that most people want from life.â
âNot you.â
âNo.â The villain wrung out the washcloth again. âAnd not you. Thatâs why we are up here and they are down there.â
The hero made a rude noise that turned into a hiss of pain as the villain carefully drew the heroâs arm up, away from their body. Bruised or broken ribs, the villain thought darkly, and cataloged that for later. Theyâd have to work their way up to the hero literally showing their belly. Instead, they started dabbing at the angry red welts around the heroâs wrist.
"Hang on. Are you suggesting,â the hero rasped, âthat this, treating me like an animal in a zoo, is somehow not evil?â
The villain shrugged. âAre you going to give me the people who attacked you? I can just execute everyone you came in contact with since you entered this building if you prefer.â
The hero snapped their head away again, tried to pull free. The villain hung onto that precious, swollen wrist⌠and then finally saw it, staring down at the unblemished skin across the heroâs knuckles.
"You didnât fight back?â the villain said, things clicking together. The hero yanked away again and this time the villain let them. They had what they needed. âIt was your people who did this. Brought you here to me?â
The hero wrapped their arms around themselves, trying to wedge themselves deeper into the couches cushions. âYou said such terrible things about me on TV,â they said with a sneer that didnât come close to hiding the heartbreak. âHad to make things black and white. You donât get to be surprised people took you at your word. That they got so scared they thought they had toâŚâ
Their voice caught. The villain had just enough to time to put the basin safely down before the hero dissolved into shaking sobs in their arms.
It was full dark before the villain coaxed the hero into drinking down the pain draught. It left them dozing safely upstairs as the villain stormed down the stairs to the party waiting for them in the cheap, common conference room off the lobby.
The ragged individuals inside all startled up as the villain barged in the door. Most avoided the villainâs gaze but one, the ringleader, mustered their courage.
âWeâve been waiting hours,â they complained with false bravado and a jut of their chin. âWe brought you [hero]. Whereâs our reward?â
âOh, donât worry,â the villain breathed, flicking their knives to hand. Yes, this was just the stress reliever they needed. âIâve got it right here.â
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
hero x villain writers (and readers), have I got some music for you!Â
Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James is what Iâve been obsessed with recently- itâs absolutely perfect for writing heroes and villains. Itâs indie rock, the songs are mostly fast paced (with three exceptions), and the music is oddly addictive. Iâve been listening to it on repeat for like four days now and Iâm not stopping anytime soon.
 it has 11 songs, and itâs only 36 minutes. great way to spend just over half an hour!
A continuation of the spymaster villain and revolutionary hero story (aka the waltzing-through-blood snippet).
First part here. Thanks to @the-modern-typewriter for the original prompt!
The tyrant liked port, so the inner circle all drank port too as they gathered for the afterparty in His Majesty's inner sanctum. The villain laughed and drank and smoked with the others and grimly envied the hero, who'd probably cried a bit and then gone straight off to sleep in one of the villain's comfortable guest rooms. Back in their school days the hero had been notorious for their ability to fall asleep anywhere; in the theater, at the student bar, on one memorable occasion in the middle of the dean's annual awards banquet -
"And let's all take a moment to raise our glasses to [Villain]," the tyrant's voice echoed across the room. The villain snapped to attention and turned, ready with an inscrutable smile for this collection of vipers. The tyrant raised his glass and the room followed. "For a truly excellent waltz, don't you all think?"
There was a smattering of applause and 'hear-hears' from the villain's rivals, ranging from grudging respect to seething jealousy at this public praise from the tyrant. The villain took a modest bow and the tyrant smiled and crooked a finger to summon them. The villain crossed the room and two levels of influence, all the way up to the place of honor where the tyrant lounged artfully against the fireplace mantle, boot heel kicked up on the grate.
"Excellent work, truly," the tyrant said in a more conversational tone, with an actual slap on the back. "Just the statement we were hoping to make."Â It was roasting hot, but the tyrant didn't have so much as a flushed cheek over his perfectly waxed blond mustaches.Â
"Shocking, the disloyalty everywhere these days," harrumphed the old Colonel from her seat by the fire, beady eyes fixed on the villain. She was the longest surviving minister, known for her flawless military acumen and her ruthless, unflinching support of whomever held the crown. Regardless of how they seized it.
"Speaking of waltzes and disloyalty," the tyrant said, lowering his voice just enough that everyone leaned in. "What an interesting choice of dance partner. That was [Hero] you had on your arm, wasn't it? And, from what I hear, in your carriage shortly afterwards!"
There was a distinct change in the atmosphere as the tyrant's most trusted collectively flared their nostrils at the red meat thrown down before them. [Hero's] quasi-rebellious family history was no secret in this room. The villain did not have to fake the sudden dryness in their throat, the tightening of their smile. "We've, ah, stayed in touch..."
"Now, now!" the tyrant laughed, throwing a friendly arm around the villain's neck. "You don't have to explain yourself! We trust you to handle enemies of the state in whatever manner you see fit." He raised a suggestive eyebrow and a vicious chuckle ran through the group.
The villain stiffened but the tyrant drew them in, tightening his arm just enough to pull the villain off balance. "We're just glad to see you actually have human appetites, chum," he breathed into the villain's ear, the smell of cigar smoke and hair oil so overwhelming the villain's head spun. "There is such a thing as being too good at your job. Rouses suspicion. Makes people nervous if they don't think they have a handle on you, you see?"
The villain managed a nod. The tyrant gave one more squeeze to the back of their neck and finally released them. Villain made his bow to the leering grins and retreated to the shadows, back straight and neutral expression fixed. There were three more awful hours to get through, and the villain could swear they felt the tyrant's eyes on them the whole time.
Dawn was breaking and so was the villain's headache by the time they were finally rattling home, past the laborers sweeping away the night's dirty slush. They didn't bother to open their eyes as one worker casually hoisted themselves up and through the carriage window with barely a bounce to the vehicle's springs.
"Long night?" the villain's lieutenant asked with the disgusting chipperness of someone who'd gotten in a nap and a change of clothes.
The villain rubbed their temples. "You can cancel the leak to the Minister of Commerce, the Minister of the Exchequer, and the Colonel about [Hero]. His Majesty himself kindly drew a target on [Hero]'s back and then underlined it in red a few times for the duller members of cabinet. So," the villain spread their hands, couldn't hold back their smile any longer. "I'd say tonight couldn't have gone better if I planned it myself. Which - oh yes! - I did."
The lieutenant pursed her lips and crossed her arms. The villain felt their smile slide away. "What happened? Did something go wrong with them-"
"With [Hero]? Nah, they're tucked away." The lieutenant kicked her muddy boots up. She preferred her laborer persona to her white uniform. It gave her an excuse to be disrespectful. "Got em in the blue bedroom."
The villain stiffened. "The blue..."
The lieutenant sat up, immediately on alert. "Something wrong?"
The villain sighed, rubbed their face. "A trifling detail. I'll handle it when I speak to [Hero]." The lieutenant's eyes slid away again and the villain glared as they realized what the lieutenant was not saying. "We're not going to have this conversation again about using [Hero]? This won't work if it doesn't look real, but I hope you of all people understand the difference between reality and illusion."
"Oh, no boss," the lieutenant said with an ironic touch to her imaginary cap. "I've no doubt you'll slide the knife into [Hero] like a professional when the time comes. Nah, I'm worried we won't get that far because you're underestimating them." The villain scoffed but the lieutenant didn't smile. "I'm serious. I know they haven't got a nasty cynical mind like us, but I've seen their file. They aren't stupid. And if they figure you out, this all falls apart."
The villain clasped their hands together, controlled their temper. Their lieutenant was absolutely right to bring up concerns. And, based on the wash of emotion they felt at the lieutenant's words, she might have a point. "I'll watch myself," the villain said mildly, but couldn't help adding, "But it's too late to find someone else now. Can you think of any other possible subject who fits every qualification so perfectly?"
The lieutenant tilted her head at him, as if he'd asked a question that didn't make sense. "Course not, boss," she said, rising to her feet. "You designed this whole plan around them."
And then she swung her feet out the window and dropped back down to the street, just to be sure she'd have the last word.
The staff was too well trained to say anything. But the steaming tray that slid onto the sideboard, just as the villain stepped through their front door, held two breakfasts instead of one and a pot of tea next to the villain's preferred coffee. The villain ignored the footman hanging about helpfully in the hallway and took the tray up themselves, balancing it awkwardly on one hip while they unlocked the door.
The blue bedroom, so named for the glum navy curtains, was the least impressive of the villain's guest rooms. Tucked into the windiest corner of the house next to the servant stairs, it was an awkward L-shape which the staff had tried to cover by splitting it into two spaces - the small bed in the back and a pair of chairs squeezed in before the little hearth.
The hero was wide awake.Â
They sat in the straight-backed armchair, still wrapped tightly in their heavy wool coat. Last night, the villain had thought it the same style as the one hero had worn everywhere in their academy days. In the watery daylight, they could see it was in fact the same coat, the worn elbows and carefully darned hems obvious, as was the fraying embroidery on their court finery and the worn thin soles of their shoes. No blood on them of course. The villain had steered them clear of that. They did not look over as the villain entered, staring fixedly at the pastoral landscape over the hearth, as if they could transport themselves into the idyllic scene by force of wishing. The villain placed the tray on the floor before the fire, relocked the door, and nudged the cup of coffee into the hero's hand.
"Are they dead?" the hero asked quietly.
"Who?" the villain said, then remembered what had happened three steps back/ eight hours ago as the hero gave them a stunned look. "Oh. Your friends."
"They were your friends too," the hero said through their teeth.
The villain rolled their eyes, took a sip of tea, and made a face. Horrid beverage. "Were they? At any rate, their lives were forfeit the moment they started plotting treason. As is yours."
"So you said." The hero finally noticed the coffee cup in their hand, and drained it in one go. That at least hadn't changed. They turned their face back up to the painting. "Funny. I could've sworn I sold that one to some overseas merchant. Paid me double what it was worth." The villain stretched out in their chair and shrugged. The hero glared. "It doesn't go with anything in your house."
"That is why it is in my worst guest room," the villain agreed. "It was your favorite, wasn't it?"
For a moment they both looked up at the sheep grazing through the sun-dappled ruins. "I have wondered," the villain said with a gesture upwards, "Why aren't you there? You could've packed it in and gone abroad, gone south to cheaper pastures. Maybe caught yourself one of those new world millionaires looking to class up the family tree with some noble blood. I've always thought you'd make a wonderful trophy spouse."
The hero snapped their gaze to them so sharply that the villain felt a rush of fear that they had gone too far, said too much, foolishly disregarded their lieutenant's warning.
But all the hero said was, "Are you saying I would've been allowed to leave? You wouldn't have been waiting for me at the border with arrest papers?" The villain shrugged again. The hero sat up, the old fire building in their eyes again. "Always with the games. What game are you playing at now, [Villain]? I may be a bad revolutionary but I'd be an even worse spy."
"Gods, that's the truth." The villain smiled. "No, I've got something else in mind for your particular talents. You're going to hate it."
The hero visibly lost what little color was left in their face. But they slammed down their cup and stood, chin jutted out defiantly. So brave. So stupid. "Let's save time," they said, and thrust out their wrists. "Arrest me." The villain raised their eyebrows and sipped their tea. The hero flushed but didn't back down. "Go on! Do it! There's nothing you can do to me, nothing you can threaten me with at this point that would make me work for him! I've got nothing left except the name."
The villain put their own cup down gently. Checked theatrically back over their shoulder to the locked door, then lowered their voice just enough to make hero lean in.
"Do you want it back?" the villain said.
The hero blinked, hands still outstretched. "What?"
"Do you want it all back?" sai the villain. "With interest. For everything the tyrant has done to your house? For what he did to your parents?"
A silence followed. The last log in the fire collapsed on itself into ash. The hero's breathing stopped - and then started again, slightly faster.Â
"You," the hero said in a shaking voice, "do not get to talk about my parents."
"See, the problem with your little cabal - other than the general lack of competence - was that you didn't have a plan for what happens after the righteous overthrow of the wicked king," the villain went on. A gentle tug to the hero's cold hands pulled them back down to their chair. "There's still the whole apparatus of state, the basic functions of government that must be maintained, his many allies and enablers who've all been carefully positioning themselves for years to be the one to take over as soon as the king is dead. And if you think the tyrant is bad, you don't want to know who's waiting in the wings."
The hero was staring, wide-eyed and pale faced in the cold morning light. "I don't understand..." they said cautiously.
"Yes you do," the villain said. They grabbed the arms of the hero's chair and hauled them close, knees and ankles colliding. "I've been playing the long game, darling. Got myself in position, got my last piece-" they tapped the hero on their nose, ignoring their flinch, "-on the board. We are going to overthrow the tyrant and replace him with someone better."
"Oh gods," the hero said, looking into the villain's eyes with something that was both hope and utter terror. "You've done all this so you can sit the throne?"
"No, no, no," the villain lied with a laugh, "Pay attention, darling. I said someone better." They seized hero's cold hands, leaned in with every ounce of sincerity they could muster. "We're going to put you on the throne."
Hyper-specific advice because I donât see enough of this!
make your characters have inaccurate perceptions of themselves. your character might think theyâre selfish but at every opportunity they act selfless. we all have blind spots so give these to your characters too! (this works best with first person pov but Iâm sure you can do it in third.)
make a characterâs personality trait helpful sometimes and harmful other times. impulsivity that makes them act quickly in high-stress situations which is great but it also sometimes results in the wrong choices.
make an excel/google sheets doc for your outline. for mine i have the chapter number, the date, the character pov (since mine is first person and switches between 5 characters), a summary column, and a continuity column. my story takes place in one setting but most stories have multiple locations, so you could include a column for that, the time of day, even the moon phase (one of my wips is from the perspective of animals so that is super important for that story).
you can also use excel/sheets for keeping track of your conlang. for my animal wip i have constructed a language called Vannro and I have 300 some-odd entries into my excel doc. i have columns for the Vannro word, the English translation, etymology and derived words (for some), the part of speech, and the subject. you can easily sort in alphabetical either in English or your conlang, and also sort by excluding all entries that arenât under the subject âderogatoryâ or âplacesâ etc. I always forget what my âbeâ verbs are so I sort through the part of speech column so I can find âisâ âwasâ âareâ etc.
use perspective to create tension for your reader. for example, in The Blackwater Anomaly in a chapter from Rainerâs pov, we experience his nightmare, however in a later chapter from Hollyâs pov, when she asks him directly, he lies and says he hasnât experienced any nightmares. Holly doesnât know he is lying but the audience does. I also have characters who do not get chapters from their perspective, who may or may not be lying, and so both the audience and the characters experience that anxiety and uncertainty together.
consider using deep pov. you can read some articles about it but essentially you make the audience experience the story at the same time as the character and it makes your narration more active. this can also be done in third person. this has a lot to do with âshow donât tellâ (although sometimes its better to just tell). remove some âtellingâ words like âthought/felt/sawâ and just get directly into whatâs happening. instead of âAva saw a shadow fall across her shoulderâ make it âa shadow fell across her shoulderâ. your reader will know who youâre talking about. this even jumps into the unreliable narrator when you change âI felt like Isaiah was blowing me offâ to âIsaiah blew me off.â the former has room for doubt and makes your character seem weaker. if she thinks sheâs being blown off and sheâs pissed about it, make her say that! you have to make the audience believe itâs true, it makes them more invested in the characterâs experiences and emotions. and then if they later find out Isaiah wasnât really blowing them off, there was an emergency or something, both the character and the audience can feel regretful together over misreading the situation and being pissed at Isaiah. if you leave room for doubt, then your reader will just feel unsurprised during the reveal and frustrated at your character for being stupid up until then.
you donât have to âshowâ everything. sometimes thereâs boring parts of a narrative that no one really cares about. you can either make a break in the text to show a time skip happened when your character was driving from point a to point b or you can give a paragraph or two about the drive, just telling what happened, even include an accident on the side of the road or an unexpected and frustrating road closure. its a very mundane and relatable aspect in our lives and we donât need to be âshownâ these, we can just be told. summarize the nonessential by telling or just skip it.
In a body much too numb to be her own, the hero watched her mother rush toward her, face pale, clutching her housecoat tight to her frame.
âOh, sweetie.â First a touch to the livid bruise on her cheek, and then another to the wound on her shoulder, her arm. âWhat hââ
âDad sent in more reinforcements than I expected tonight.â A wince as her mother attended to her shoulder injury, with antiseptic and Band-Aid she couldnât recall her fetching. Must be the concussion. âIt took me a little longer than usual to fend them all off.â
Meaning: sheâd absolutely gotten her ass handed to her. It was a miracle the mask hadnât torn off, exposing her identity to her fatherâotherwise known as the cityâs most infamous villain.
Although, there was a moment whenâ
âI canât take this.â
The hero looked up. Her motherâs eyes had gone glassy, hands suspended halfway through dressing up her once-bloodied arm.
âYou know I canât take watching the both of you go at it like this. I can barely handle deceiving your father every dââ
The hero scoffed. âYou seemed to handle deceiving the world for the entire time you were married just fine.â
Harsh words, but harsh didnât always mean untrue. When the hero had found out her parents had been colluding in covering her fatherâs identity, sheâd been shocked. All those crimes, the carnage and the bloodshed, and her mousy, kindhearted mother hadnât turned him in once. In fact, sheâd helped him. Helped him uphold the guise of their picket-fence family, him a lawyer and her a nurse, him a doting husband and her his loving wife.
And to an extent, the hero couldnât even tell where the guise began. Sheâd had a childhood like no other. Her father at her first tournament and her mother at her school meetings. Summers on the coast and surprise birthday parties never to be forgotten. She was the perfect combination of them: her motherâs heart-shaped face and her fatherâs left-sided dimple, her wit and his goofiness.
But not their selfishness. Never their selfishness.
At some point during her reverie her mother had drawn back, wearing a hurt that, somehow, still managed to make the hero feel guilty. âThatâs not fair.â
Because, in the end, her mother was just a victim.
âYou know I played along so that youâd have the best life,â said her mother.
Forced into her fatherâs schemes on discovering his murky history by accident. Forced into keeping her daughterâs secret from her husband, that she was the hero he so passionately wanted to eradicate.
âSo that you wouldnât be forced to live without a father.â
The hero yanked her arm back from her motherâs gentle fingers.
âReally, Mom?â The onset of anger was as spontaneous as it was deadly. âNot for his golden parachute? Not because you couldnât give up all his blood money?â
Silence like static. Or maybe it was the rematerializing headache.
The heroâs nails dug into her palms. Yes, she was angry. Enraged, furious, disbelieving of the fact that she should hail from the very thing sheâd taken it upon herself to liberate the city from. Still she couldnât bring herself to add the fuel to the fire, because her mother was little more than a pawn in her fatherâs game, and because her mother was her mother. It was as much her duty to rescue her as it was to rescue the rest of the cityâs denizens, complicit though her mother had been in all the time her fatherâher father, the villain, the damned, despicable villainâhad exacted his horrific crimes.
Complicit but innocent. She hadnât had a choice. Sheâd been scared.
I forgive her, I forgive her, I forgive her . . .
Ring!
Her mother had yet to speak. When the hero braved her next glance, it was to her mother sucking in a deep breath, summoning her composure, and answering her phone. âHi, honey.â
Dad.
âIâm stillâno, I havenât seen her yet . . . I donât think so . . . Yes, I . . .â Then a pause. âWhat? What do you mean that sheâsâslow down, please.â
Now her mother was looking frightened. The hero tensed up.
âWhat do you mean, you saw her face? Are you sure it wasnât just a trick of the eye?â
Shit.
That slip. One of his lackeys had gotten so close to snatching her mask clean off. Had he succeeded? No, but maybe heâd gotten just close enough thatâ
âIt canât be,â her mother gasped. Even in knowing decade-long lies had made a perfect actress of her mother, the hero couldnât help being impressed by the show she was putting on. Then again, the fear was likely far less orchestrated this time. âOur sweet little girl. What . . . what are you going to do?â
A second. Two. Thirty. A minute.
The heroâs heart started pounding too fast for a proper assessment.
The hero tugged at her motherâs sleeve. Her eyes begged the question her lips could not form, whether her father was listening or not.
Right then, her mother ended the call. Her expression, the paragon of terrified, told the hero all she needed to know.
E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;
Hiveword - Helps to research any topic to write about (has other resources, too);
BetaBooks - Share your draft with your beta reader (can be more than one), and see where they stopped reading, their comments, etc.;
Charlotte Dillon - Research links;
Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;
One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;
One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!
Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;
National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;
Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;
Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;
The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;
Reedsy - "A trusted place to learn how to successfully publish your book" It has many tips, and tools (generators), contests, prompts lists, etc. FREE;
QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);
Pacemaker - Track your goals (example: Write 50K words - then, everytime you write, you track the number of the words, and it will make a graphic for you with your progress). It's FREE but has a paid plan;
Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;
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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
If youâre interested? Could you write something along the lines of a hero in captivity by the villain and trying to end their life so that the villain canât use them ( read their mind or use as hostage or something)
I love your work ! â¤ď¸
"Now," the villain said to the vampire. "I thought that little circle of light would keep you nicely put - I never imagined you would be so quick to throw away your immortality!"
"Better then you having it."
"And I thought you hero types were supposed to be generous."
The blisters and burns on the vampire's skin were already beginning to heal away from the sun. The villain watched the process with an unmistakeable hunger.
"But I suppose," the villain continued, "that you're not like the other little heroes, are you? You're a monster."
The vampire didn't flinch at the word, nor the accusation. It had its truth. Super speed. Super strength. Healing. The vampire had many of the abilities often attributed to super heroes, and so they had figured why not. It had felt good to help people considering what they were; atonement, if not redemption. Some balancing of the scales, of what they were, of what they took to survive.
They scoured the villain's posture for any sign of an opening, any advantage they could press. The villain was no creature of the night, and yet somehow they were able to match both that speed and strength like they were not human either and had never once been prey.
There was sunshine behind them, in the courtyard garden, but the vampire had to get past them first.
"You're selfish, the villain said, with a sigh. "Unwilling to share your gifts with the world. Maybe you like having their life in your hands alone, is that it? I can understand that."
"I'm not like you."
"No, I'm better."
"Well, then you don't need me, do you?"
The vampire lunged forward, and the villain moved too - barrelling into them with that impossible speed, knocking them back once more.
The villain laughed, all sharp grin and those gleaming hungry eyes as they looked the vampire up and down. "No. But I do want you very much, and that's much more important."
The vampire's jaw clenched.
"It's no matter, anyway," the villain murmured, almost to themselves. "I can work around this. I'm sure you look lovely wrapped up in chains too. Perhaps that is more fitting for a thing like you."
"I'm not a thing."
"I'm sure, if they knew what you were, that your precious public would disagree."
The blood lust hazed behind the vampire's gaze, but they forced it down.
The villain laughed again, looking at the violent curl of the vampire's fists, at all the parts of them that weren't as golden as the stereotype. They looked at the hero like they were a thing, a precious thing, but an object or specimen to be collected and carefully preserved nonetheless.
The vampire felt the first shiver of fear down their spine, absent for a long time for themselves.
The villain took a step closer again, and the vampire circled, keeping them out of their range.
There was no light, no fire, no way out anymore.
"I'm going to enjoy this," the villain said. "Thank you."