#narrative writing

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

odnlb masterpost

this is mainly for my own reference, like a final project portfolio for myself. but it's here for you guys if you wanna see it too!

fic: one does not love breathing

how i wrote the fic

how wackus writes things

director's cut 1

director's cut 2

director's cut 3

director's cut 4

director's cut 5

director's cut 6

finale explained

lila vs gabriel - psychopath vs sociopath

miraculous enneagram post no one asked for

mbti types

d&d alignment

odnlb extra: strictly professional (feligami oneshot ✨️tumblr exclusive ✨️)

#check the hashtags 'odnlb discussion' and 'odnlb analysis' for more #and the hashtag 'odnlb extra' i think i added stuff there too #odnlb #one does not love breathing #writing #writing process #narrative writing #miraculous fanfic #mlb fanfiction #i think I'm done with odnlb now omg #but if more writing process stuff comes up then it will be added here!

[artofjoshuaclarke]

KAIJUNE DAY 26: PRODIGAL SON

It returned in despair.

Dreadnaught had laid waste to Graveside.

The Twisted Father had returned.

The Dead Man's Hand had been seen mutilating both the Highway and Steed, none the worse for wear for all the beating it had taken from the Hammer.

There was nothing else to be done, it would be a battle, a show of overwhelming force, everyone we could bring to bear sent at that horned bastard, maybe we could wring answers from it before the tidal wave of monstrosities could decimate our paltry few. Yes, yes, we would have our pound of flesh, it mattered not the confusion, or the despair, we could do something - well we could send them to do something.

We sent to the barracks for our tiny cohort of warriors. We found an unfamilair sight. They all looked to the direction of the sea, and they were weeping.

In relief

In despair

A GRAND GIFT

A MOST SURPRISING USE OF THE CHRYSALIS CODEX

SEE WHAT HAS BEEN WROUGHT FROM YOUR OFFERING

#illustration #kaiju #kaijune #kaijune2023 #monster #painting #artists on tumblr #creature design #godzilla #art #artwork #story #storytelling #narrative writing #monster art #original character

[welcometothewoes]

Prompt

A and B both have had someone else close to them get sick/end up in an accident.

A’s friend/family member/mentor fought long and hard and survived; while B’s loved one died in a very short time.

Thus both of end up stuck with dichotomous beliefs, with A having the firm belief that “Human bodies are incredibly resilient and they can do so much, and it’s amazing how much they work to keep us alive!!!” versus B’s “Human bodies are so fragile and vulnerable, and it’s so scary to think that just being in the wrong place at the wrong time can cost you your life within seconds.”

Now make A and B meet.

Bonus 1: A taking care of someone with a fever would have the mindset of “I just wanna make sure you’re comfy and not in pain until you inevitably get healthy again ^_^” while B would be like “You’re NOT leaving your bed until I’ve made sure you don’t DIE.”

Bonus 2: Do A and B know each other? Are they close? Good. Kill off A 😊

#story prompt #writing prompt #narrative prompt #fanfiction prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfic prompts #writing #writeblr #amateur writing #story writing #narrative writing #fanfiction writing #fanfic writing #story prompts #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #character a and b #sickfic? #hurt/comfort #writing hurt/comfort #broody x sunshine #tw: death #tw: grief #imagine your ocs #oc prompt #story inspo #creative writing #writing inspiration #fic writing

[essaysondemandca]

Narrative and Descriptive Writing: Sharpen Your Practice

In the fascinating world of writing, practicing your skills in both narrative and descriptive styles can make your words truly come alive. Narrative writing involves telling a story, creating suspense, and developing characters, while descriptive writing paints vivid pictures with words, engaging readers through sensory details. By practicing both, you sharpen your ability to craft compelling stories and evoke emotions through rich, detailed descriptions.

Imagine taking a character on a thrilling journey through a lively city, where every twist and turn adds to the excitement. Then, with a subtle shift in mood, transform the same setting into a mysterious landscape, leaving readers intrigued. This exercise not only enhances your storytelling prowess but also demonstrates how descriptive elements can influence the overall mood of a narrative.

On the descriptive side, picture a serene beach scene bathed in sunlight, where each detail is carefully chosen to evoke a sense of peace. Now, change the atmosphere by introducing stormy weather and turbulent waves, transforming the tranquil setting into one charged with tension. This exploration of contrasting moods within the same picturesque scene showcases the power of descriptive writing to shape the emotional impact of your words. So, through consistent practice in both narrative and descriptive writing, you can observe the flourishing of your storytelling and descriptive skills, ultimately benefiting your proficiency in crafting compelling academic essays.

#descriptive writing #narrative writing #essay writing #academia

[kai-atlantis]

Gods, I think I need to stick to screenwriting. Novelistic/narrative writing just requires too much description and interesting sentence structure that I just don't think I'm capable of capturing, or writing. I noticed my style is that I tend to storytell by dialogue. I mostly let dialogue and characters' actions/reactions tell the story.

That's fun and all, but it's not cutting it for narrative writing and frankly it's stressing me. I would love to describe the interior of a decrepit, rusty old shuttle - but I just can't. Like, I can, but it's basic as fuck and boring. It's like a description by a 5th grader.

I'm wondering if creative writing classes or challenges would help me with this. I can't tell if this is just my style, or I'm a shit writer. It feels like the latter, but I'm a bit too blind to my work to tell.

#Writing rants #Writer things #Screenwriter #screenwriting #Writing #Personal #Rant #Might delete #Narrative writing #Fanfiction

[animeloverinsignia]

After becoming a writer and posting my work, I really get an idea of how important and special it is to leave comments on works you like. It really does inspire me to be more open with my liking of a story and vocalizing that to the author. Not to mention I like the idea of being able to brighten up someone's day just by being honest of finding something I liked in their story.

So this is your reminder to not be afraid to tell an author you liked what they wrote! It really can mean a lot to them.

#writing #my writing #creative writing #narrative writing #writing advice #writing inspiration #writing motivation #writer's advice #writing community #descriptive writing #writers on tumblr #tumblr writers #wattpad writers #ao3 writers #quotev writers #fanfiction.net writers #fanfiction writers #writing comments #writer appreciation

[allnovellas]

The Art of Showing vs. Telling in Your Narrative

Demystifying ‘Showing’ and ‘Telling’ in Narrative Writing In the world of narrative writing, one of the most essential skills every writer must learn is the intricate balance between ‘showing’ and ‘telling’. These two techniques, when used judiciously, can make your narrative come alive, creating an immersive experience for your readers. At their core, ‘showing’ and ‘telling’ are two different…

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#Improve Writing Skills #Narrative Writing #Showing Vs Telling #storytelling techniques #Writing process #Writing tips

[reflectionsinphotographs]

Origin story behind this one: my parents sent me info about a local writing contest in the town they live in, and the prompt for the contest was “Hometown Memories” (and if you know the town: keep it to yourself and don’t dox me, please).

So my dumbass was like “oh yeah, let’s take that casual, wholesome prompt and write about returning to my childhood church after (presumably) years of therapy to heal from my religious trauma, much of which was acquired within said childhood church! Surely this is what they were looking for when they created this prompt! I’m not taking it too far at all!”

Anyway, I can’t submit it for the contest because I don’t want my parents reading it, so I thought I’d send it into the Tumblr void. Hope you enjoy <3

----------------------

The minute I turned into the parking lot, a debilitating wave of nostalgia hit me. It made my heart hurt, and I parked quickly, stepping out of my car and looking up at the building in front of me in a dazed reverie.

The church was smaller than I remembered it (though I guess the last time I was here I was much smaller). A thousand memories danced around me, and I was only standing in the parking lot.

Irrational fear gripped my heart as I slowly walked towards the front door, as if the moment I stepped inside, I would erupt into flames. As if I would be struck down the second I crossed the threshold. 

How dare I return to the Lord’s house, after all these years?

And yet, as I opened the doors and stepped inside, there was no fire. There was no grand disaster to end me, to send me down to Hell where I surely belonged. There was only the sound of the door closing behind me, and my heavy breathing to cut through the silence.

The church was empty, like I hoped it would be. I didn’t want anyone to be here right now. They didn’t need to see me like this, cowering in the chapel doorway as if some invisible monster was around the corner.

Slowly, tentatively, I took my hand off the doorknob. 

I began to walk, with fearful trepidation.

My mind shut down, letting muscle memory guide me into the chapel.

To say that it looked exactly the same as I remembered it would be overstating my memory; it wasn’t exact. But it was similar enough to make me choke back a wave of nausea.

I found myself wandering down the aisle, feeling like a ghost stuck between two worlds. There was an ocean between me and the girl I was last time I was here, and I could hardly even begin to process the crushing onslaught of memories that came rushing back to me.

The whole room glowed with an otherworldly familiarity; comforting, but tainted with something else, something darker. The high chapel ceilings were painted white, accenting the intricate stained-glass windows that lined the walls. The carpets were the same shade of weird gray-green that I remembered, matching the cushions on the pews so perfectly it was almost hard to separate them. And the pews; I found myself unconsciously running a hand along the sides, tracing them as I made my way towards the front of the room.

I was already blinking back tears, and I hadn’t even gotten to the altar. My feet stopped me before I could, and I slipped into one of the pews, welcoming the familiar embrace of the hard wood and scratchy upholstery. And for a moment, everything was still.

That’s when I began to cry.

The air around me felt thick, and my tears fell with the weight of every sin I had committed. Just because I felt no remorse for my actions didn’t mean that the fear of Hell hadn’t been drilled into me, hadn’t burrowed itself into the very fiber of my being, as if to ensure that I would never be free from the cross I was shackled to at birth.

Yet, as I cried, I felt the building welcome me. Despite every disdainful remark, every venom-soaked platitude I had spit at the church, it still somehow felt like coming home. 

And in that moment, I had lived and died a thousand times in that room.

I am not sorry. I refuse to apologize for who I am.

I shouted inside my mind, and the building listened. An air of comfort seeped into my skin, relaxing the muscles that had been tense since I arrived. I might’ve been praying, but at that point I wasn’t sure. If I was, I don’t think it was to God. I think it was to every iteration of myself that walked within these walls. Every bright-eyed kid who was given more pressure than they ever deserved, every child who knelt at that altar in a casual state of anxiety.

If God was watching me, he knew. He saw the mix of anger and sorrow and fear in my mind. He didn’t need me to tell him how his disciples wronged me. He’d seen it all, and that would have to be enough.

The sound of my sobs echoed around the room, and I almost worried that somebody passing by was going to hear me. That they were going to come inside to find an adult woman, weeping in an empty church.

Stained-glass filtered light settled like a blanket over me, and slowly my tears dried up. By the end, I was crying more in emotional release than in sorrow. 

I understood that the cocktail of emotions in my mind would never fully be gone. Just as the fear of Hell had burrowed into my bones, so too had the melancholy that tainted my memories. Blissful ignorance was something I’d long since grown out of, and I couldn’t ignore the actions of the institutional church any longer. What once brought me so much joy now delivered only feelings of confusion.

And yet.

Sitting in the church I’d grown up in, the confusion was quieter, as though the ache in my chest was momentarily subdued. I felt something running through my bloodstream, and it took me a moment to even recognize the feeling. But eventually, I figured it out.

Peace.

It had been so long.

#while it isn't required for reading #I highly recommend listening to Sun-Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain as you do #it hurts my soul in a good way #religious trauma #religious imagery #childhood #christianity #religion #florence and the machine #ethel cain #mother cain #writing #narrative writing #imagery #short story #original writing #imagery practice

[coolcoolglasses]

GUESS WHAT ELSE I’VE BEEN UP TO

I made a game with some talented people! This is the completely updated 2.0 version with a new UI, artwork, programming, levels, a new character, and of course DIALOG! Please play and share!

#indie games #wholesome games #My writing #narrative writing #narrative design #team work #puzzle game #cute #frog #crow #otter #cat #dog #raccoon #hedgehog #game writing #game development #workbygin #artbygin #repost2heygingerdee

[tiktoksinspo]

#writing #writing prompt #narrative writing #books #book lovers #nice #writer #main character #unexpected kiss #writing inspo #tiktok #tiktoks #@yourdailywritingprompt

[alittleinkspill]

High School Writing #2: “Everytime I heard the ice-cream truck it reminded me of home.”

The twinkling sound of the ice-cream truck flooded my delicate brain, damaged from all the past incidents and soon to die from the ones about to come.

The two-story, oak-wood mansion with luscious, green grass on all sides, always well-kept, would seem like a dream house to many, but for me… this place was nothing less than hell on earth.

My uncle, with whom I have lived for a year now, is the cruellest man I know; his name alone sends a chill down my spine: Alexander White. My aunt… is the coldest woman I know: Margaret White.

My ears are ringing.

They took me in the day I lost my wonderful parents, pouncing at the opportunity to make our fortunes their own. I was used as their stress-relief toy, a subject to their endless torture.

The ringing is growing louder.

A couple in their forties torturing a young girl of mere fifteen… what a horrid imagination, but here it is reality.

The twinkling of the ice-cream truck reached me through the ringing in my ears, a bringer of bitter-sweet memories. Everytime I heard the ice-cream truck it reminded me of home. Memories came flooding back to me in waves, and I surfed along.

“Nicole, hurry up and choose already.”

The words belonged to a petite figure, golden hair flowing down her shoulders like a river of molten gold, her bright blue eyes seemingly summing up the entire ocean in centimetres. My mother.

She was speaking to a young, slender, dark-haired 14-year-old, brown eyes scanning the menu having difficulty choosing. Me.

Both of us stood next to each other, 5-and-a-half feet tall. A 5’10” figure stood behind us: handsome, dark-eyed, with jet-black hair. My father.

Both my parents were enjoying the last of their 30s.

“This one!” I exclaimed, pointing to the picture of a smooth, chocolate Magnum. The main in his signature uniform took it out and gave it to me.

“Honey, I forgot my purse inside. Be a darling and bring it for me. Oh, don’t run like that! Careful!”, she said after me as I left the shade of the umbrella attached to the truck, and bolted across the tarmac, through the garden, and into the living room where I had last seen it.

I found it on the couch, and hurried back, but upon reaching the doorway I was knocked back off my feet into our humble home, my ears shocked. The heat from the blast burnt my skin, and I sat there on the floor, paralyzed by what had just taken place before my very eyes, leaving a forever scar.

The ice-cream truck had exploded, taking my parents with it. Smoke filled my nostrils, tears filled my eyes, a scream lodged in my throat as my ears rang and rang and rang and-

“Nicole! Get down here this instant!”

The cold shrill of my aunt’s shouting brought me back to the present, and I wiped my tears and headed downstairs, the ringing still persistent, thinking about when I would finally break, or if I am already broken.

- 09/05/2019

#high school writing #writing #short story #my writing #narrative #essay #narrative writing #school writing #creative writing

[writers-craft]

Jarah, heir to the Lands of Plenty, is beside his supposed beloved, the Honorable Lady Ananias, daughter to the King of Yonder, as they obediently kneel before a priest to profess their undying tolerance for one another. Ominous clouds hover the church as its bell rings, officially declaring them One to the Almighty and to the land they will someday rule together. Thunder rumbles at the sight of the now Prince and Princess emerging from the crooked old church, singing to the dreary world around it. And the sullen faces of their guests follow after them: Jarah’s side of the family exit with the women all in big hats and bright dresses and their husbands, dressed regally in white uniforms with balding heads and bushy eyebrows; Ananias’ side, in contrast, has all the women exit with wide hats and colorful dresses accompanied by their husbands with shaved heads and bushy beards, and in regal uniforms that are red with gold stripes. This marriage in every possible way is political, to end a long-standing feud existing even before their first breath, even before their grandfathers’ swords first clash in fury, and perhaps, quite possibly, even before time itself.

Tight lips meet, to honor tradition and nothing more. Harsh winds blow and cold rain trickles. A storm is just over the horizon, taunting them as they ride the carriage back to the castle; Ananias’ new home, and a start to their new beginning. Dread fills them.

The celebration consists of bushy eyebrowed men having lively disagreements with bushy bearded men about the state of their now amalgamated kingdom—or, kingdoms—while their wives, separately, gossip in their designated corners. Smoke from their pipes and breath surround them as they speak. The bride and groom remain separate the entire evening, except during dinner where instead they sit across from each other, only stealing glances here and there when the overwhelming realization hits them that this is, indeed, their happily ever after.

Hard rain falls outside accompanied by the booming voice of thunder declaring its occupation over their land, just for the night. Outside, a few brave goblins poke their heads out from the cracks of Down Under to witness the beauty of everything Up Over. They sing at such a sight, because it is all too much for their small eyes; it is more than they will ever know.

A lone soldier in pure white dutifully guards the castle gates, hearing their song and mistaking such a noise for an act of rebellion, a siege on the now united land. He moves in with his pointed staff—alone, after warning others inside of the sound—to remove them properly. But the murkiness of the storm blurs his vision. He returns to his post when the wind and rain combined become too ruthless for his human senses. The singing ceases, but he remains alert.

Guests inside have been warned of the commotion. Their conversation moves easily to the politics of trolls. The Land of Plenty see them as nuisant creatures in need of being eradicated, and nothing more. The nobles of Yonder disagree entirely, who use goblins for tasks not suitable for mankind's hands; they suggest relocating them to camps instead. Bride and groom remain relatively quiet in this heated exchange, for the night is winding down.

#writing #creative writing #writers craft #story #narrative writing #story idea #fairytale #my writing #fiction #wip

[nestedplotwriter]

I find that writing timelines - a basic thing to do for writing comprehensive stories - is pretty dang difficult to do when the main timeline has about 3 timelines inside it and another with 4 more timelines inside it, which in turn has N amount of timelines inside it. Help?

#narrative writing #fiction prompts

[wildflowergirlie]

huge shoutout to the MCAP (maryland comprehensive assesment program) this year for possibly making the written portion a narrative writing. y'all may not think this is huge, but let me explain:

there are always two stories in the MCAP. literally in the words of my ELA teacher, if there is a narrative writing portion or it is narrative writing, it would be combining those two stories (like if two of the characters met or something).

therefore, we are going to be practicing narrative writing in the classroom to prepare for it, and look at combining stories and exploring characters by writing about them.

so basically schools are teaching kids how to write fanfiction. thank you Maryland for this opportunity. now whenever my parents ask me what I'm doing I can literally just say practicing for the MCAP. this is so funny to me I can't even explain it but it just is I love Maryland.

#huge shoutout to maryland education #we're goated #I freaking love maryland #this is amazing #fanfic writing #fanfiction author #fanfiction #authors #writing things #maryland #maryland things #maryland education #the mcap #mcap #narrative #narrative writing #storytelling

[grimbonezz]

Best parts of drafting: ✨chapter titles✨

#welcome to wolfshire #worldbuilding #original writing #story draft #original content #narrative writing #writers on tumblr

[bloseroseone]

What is Narrative Structure: Definition, Examples, and Tips

Narrative structure is the framework that gives shape to a story, allowing it to unfold coherently and engagingly. Whether you’re crafting a novel, short story, or even a blog post, understanding narrative structure is crucial for captivating your audience. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore the definition of narrative structure, provide examples, and offer valuable tips to help you master this essential aspect of storytelling....Read more

#structure #narrative writing #narrative #writing