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What do you like to listen to when you write?
Ive tried listening to music while writing in the past, but with very little success.  I can easily blame the genres.  If anyone can give me recommendations to bands/genres that help you focus, i would be super grateful.  Playlists are especially welcome.
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Writers: don't want to name a character
Writers: Uh... humans are incapable of pronouncing their name.  Yeah that sounds cool.
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I want to use a unique fantasy currency for my novel but i cant come up for a name for it, or what it would look like / be made from.  At the same time, I don't want it to confuse people, as the world is already pretty out there.  So i might just stick to different metal coins of different value. Like copper/silver/gold. 
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Yeah, yeah that's nice.  I enjoy foreshadowing so that's gonna be fun when i finally get around to it.
Whats everyone’s opinion on naming chapters rather than just numbering them?  I love it personally.  Especially when reading because it makes it easier to navigate.
I’ve yet to name my novel’s chapters yet, but its something i look forward to in the future.  I’ going to shoot for titles that are poetic and cryptic.  Something you wont understand until you read the chapter.  Thoughts?  Will this come of as try-hard or corny?
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Get To Know The Writer tag
Thanks for tagging me, @chariot-writes.  You rock!
1. Pen or Pencil?
Pen.  I love the look and feel of a nice black pen bleeding out onto the page.  Although the end result isn’t too pretty because i end up messily scratching out a lot.  Win some lose some.
2. Have you ever drawn your OCs?
I’ve tried, but in spite of being a fairly talented artist i can never make them come out the way i see them in my mind.  Someday i’m going to scrape up enough to get commissions done.
3. Does your writing make you cry?
No, although i’m not the kind of person who cries while consuming media anyway.
4. If your Muse was a person, what would they look like?
An entity of shadow, tall and skinny with the universe in its eyes. It comes at night, wearing a patchwork cloak of different furs.  Looming over me with its lantern, it latches onto my shoulders, watching my screen from the back of the chair.
5. Which of your pieces would you like to be remembered for?
Probably the book i’m working on, but its my first so something more worthy might come along.
6. How much have you written or worked on your WIP so far today?
I haven’t yet.  But i intend to soon.  I don't usually get productive until nighttime.
7. Have you ever based a piece (or a portion of a piece) on a dream?
No.  My dreams are usually either stupid or really vague, and i write most of them down but they aren't story material.
8. Do you prefer silence, a little noise (music, ambient noise, fan etc) or a lot of noise when you’re writing?
I need silence.  Although i live with two people so if they’re home i have to use AC or a fan to silence the people sounds.  I haven't tried writing with music but i might like that, idk.
9. Do you have any routines before you sit down to write?
Sometimes.  It usually just consists of meditation, to clear my head.  or taking a quick walk down the road. (I live in the middle of nowhere.  very tranquil.)
10. Have you ever participated in NaNoWriMo or a Camp?
No.  I doubt i ever will.  It’s just not for me.
Eh i don't know who to tag, so im gonna do one of those thing where its like “HEY YOU.  YOU READING THIS.  YOURE TAGGED. if ya want.”
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I have a theory cold weather is good for my writing.  I was kicking ass back in January and February but had a slight lazy streak in the summer.  Now that it’s starting to get chilly again I've been making three times the progress, and I've picked up reading again.  Anyone else experience this?
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My writing program wanted me to correct hellscape to landscape. Clearly it is uneducated.
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Ark. Written by Ehud Lavski. Art by Yael Nathan. If you like it, please share.
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That’s funny.  Now i cant help but imaging a book where everyone's just named in numbers, kinda like movie credits.
Whats everyone’s opinion on naming chapters rather than just numbering them?  I love it personally.  Especially when reading because it makes it easier to navigate.
I’ve yet to name my novel’s chapters yet, but its something i look forward to in the future.  I’ going to shoot for titles that are poetic and cryptic.  Something you wont understand until you read the chapter.  Thoughts?  Will this come of as try-hard or corny?
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Whats everyone’s opinion on naming chapters rather than just numbering them?  I love it personally.  Especially when reading because it makes it easier to navigate.
I’ve yet to name my novel’s chapters yet, but its something i look forward to in the future.  I’ going to shoot for titles that are poetic and cryptic.  Something you wont understand until you read the chapter.  Thoughts?  Will this come of as try-hard or corny?
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I fucking love the character that’s like. not really the villain. but definitely not a good guy I mean he’s on our side. but he’s definitely not morally upstanding.
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This is such a beautiful idea.
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I hope I’m not too late to jump on this bandwagon…
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Started plotting the second half of my book yesterday and i’m proud of myself.
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Nice!
Character naming never came easily to me, but i have this thing i do where i go to a graveyard and write down all the cool and unique names.  (First and last names separately so i can mix match later)
It cool cause you find names no one really uses that much, either because they’re rare or outdated.  In my notes i have names like Hedric, Idella, and Ora.
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The Prince of Twigs
The King and Queen of Twigs,
How powerful they are,
As they sit upon their treacherous thrones,
Watching over their kingdom of trash,
And wandering their courtyards of broken glass.
Somewhere, a heart still beats within!
Soft skin among jagged rubble, discarded and decomposing.
Abandoned, the infant silently cries under a blanket of tainted dirt.
On that day, the dead child was reborn,
And dubbed the prince of twigs,
A corrupt and strange boy,
In all his undead glory.
We rue the day he might inherit the throne.  
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Character naming never came easily to me, but i have this thing i do where i go to a graveyard and write down all the cool and unique names.  (First and last names separately so i can mix match later)
It cool cause you find names no one really uses that much, either because they’re rare or outdated.  In my notes i have names like Hedric, Idella, and Ora.
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Not long after they set out, they saw something black and agile darting around the trees in the distance.  The small winged creature soon made its way closer to Vivian.  It circled him a few times before landing on the dirt at his feet.  He knelt down to see that it was a peculiar pitch black butterfly, with no markings, and with wings that did not seem to reflect any sunlight, but rather radiate such a blackness that could not gleam.  Vivian felt an inexplicable connection to this little beast.  He couldn't describe it, and he certainly couldn't rationalize it.  It's not like he was fond of insects, quite the contrary, he was annoyed by their very presence, but this six-legged pest seemed... different to him.  
He reached out his hand and allowed the to black butterfly climb on. Once making contact with the bug he felt it was even more significant.  Something about it seemed to radiate power, as though even in its small size... it could slaughter men and topple empires. Vivian liked this butterfly, yes indeed.  Then, suddenly, it stung him.  There was a dull pain that ran up Vivian's arm and through the rest of his body, it built up particular density in his skull. Still, the butterfly didn't pose a threat to Vivian.   Even though it was hurting him, he felt no malice, no hatred from the creature.  It was benevolent energy running through Vivian's veins.  He still felt that they were connected.  Suddenly, his vision faded.
For a split second, blackness, just blackness and nothing more.  It felt like what death must feel like, a consciousness lacking a body, forever alone in a thousand mile void.  Soon the blackness dissipated into pale pink light.  Vivian found himself standing somewhere else, on a road that wound up a mountain of sharp rocks, with more mountains on the other ridge.  His arms were raised ritualistically to a sky dominated by a pink sunset.   A giant white hand motionlessly clawed at the mountains on the horizon.
Vivian couldn't move any of his limbs but somehow his vision shifted down onto his own body.  His clothes were soaked in blood.  He could feel it now too, warm and wet, and dripping down his body like it was crawling and alive.  He had a feeling this blood was not his own.  He had the strange sensation, it was what he could only imagine it must feel like to kill someone.  He loved it.
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