#so i really should get started on the query letter thing

[mngo-jii]

LagakKAHAKAHKAHALHEEHGREGRGGRHEHEHEHQLANAJohwosz

“ FROM THE START. ” d. page

synopsis: (inspired by “from the start” by laufey!)—alas, you drown yourself in the daydreams to avoid the pain and reality of them never coming true. it hurts, but puppy love is fun! the magnetic pull he has on you is undoubtedly stronger than your will to accept things won't turn out the way you want it to be.

tags/warnings: angst/fluff, pining, hopelessly in love reader, kind of ooc Daniel—it's to feed your delusions ☠️, you two aren't 1st years anymore here! i don't think i proofread this enough uh

wc: 1.6k

letter ✉️: ok I GOT YOU DAMN. such ravenous beasts. this person asked for daniel angst 😭 i'll work on that next so you can leave me alone /j

There are times when you truly, really want to disintegrate into the ground out of shame.

Such as the nights when you squeal into your pillow after daydreaming ridiculous little scenarios that will never occur.

Times like when you humiliate yourself in front of him and sink into the floor of your bedroom.

Or instances where you witness Robyn and Kevin have moments of which you could only dream of happening to you.

And especially times when you realise that it's getting harder each day to remain best friends with Daniel Page.

You're not at blame! It's his fault, if anything. Him and his unshakable and peculiar charm. Him and his pretty smile he so seldom flashes. Everything. Oh how you wonder why his pull on you is so strong.

It's ironic—how you managed to take down such an extremely potent creature in the Forbidden forest, yet you can't fight this meek little crush. It makes you feel a little silly.

When Daniel was gravely hurt on the grass two weeks ago, you had to combat a perilous beast by yourself to keep him protected.

After you had defeated it, he had shoved you to the ground, and you could tell by the frustration on Daniel's face that he wanted to be mad at you and call you a fool for having put up such a struggle, straining yourself to the limit, all to defend him when you ought to have fled for help.

But all he did was haplessly envelop you and bury his head in the crook of your neck. You two didn't appear to mind that you were covered in blood, sweat, and dirt. He breathes an apology against your skin, as if all of this was his fault.

In addition to being severely punished for invading the woods without authorization, you two were lauded for your bravery and commitment.

You not only managed to (barely) preserve yourselves, but you also saved Hogwarts from a potential threat if not for that particular night. Evidently, the enemy you faced wasn't even intended to be in the area you had visited; instead, it should have been hiding farther within the forest. It could have gotten near Hogwarts and mauled anyone it first saw.

The next day, you received a mix of praise and jabs, with comments on either your bravery or folly.

Stares followed as you roamed the halls. All you wanted to do was get this day over with and sink into your bed. To Daniel's dismay, both of you received nonstop attention.

A bunch of first-year students once enclosed you and started asking you questions all at once, which made it impossible for you to even begin to respond. But even so, one query in particular caught your attention—

"So are you two, like, dating? Is he your boyfriend?", one of them had asked.

You stared, heart virtually pounding out of your chest as you regarded the first-year. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by your so-called boyfriend.

"No, we're not," Daniel pushed through the students and grabbed ahold on your arm, "Leave us alone."

The first-years cried out when Daniel drew you away from the group, explicitly telling you that Dumbledore wanted to speak to both of you.

And you can't even process what he had said because you're staring at his hand around your wrist— Consequently, you made a fool of yourself when you were surprised to see Dumbledore. Oops.

The exact moment you had realised your feelings were becoming more and more ingrained in you day by day, every cell in your body pleaded with you to get closer to Daniel—but you won't budge.

Everything seemed to draw you towards him, yet you had grown too timid and weren't as at ease with Daniel as you had been before your emotions for him began to snowball.

It was odd, of course. Suspicions arose as to why you suddenly felt anxious and bashful talking to your best friend of all people. How you suddenly get quiet when there's no one else around.

You, him, and awkward silence had started to form into some sort of trio that you weren't too fond of.

Are you two still best friends at this point? Though the way you would question yourself about it is in an entirely different tone.

You feel a bit bad about your sudden introversion, feeling as though your emotions are sabotaging your friendship held by the iron group of the world. And you can't help but ponder about how much things would worsen if you were to confess.

As a result, you continuously find yourself drifting through an endless reverie. You've criticised your delusions on occasion, but just in jest and with no sincere worry.

It had been something you've grown so used to now, that you almost found yourself out of the circle of shyness you previously were in. And Daniel was definitely relaxed to see his best friend back to normal.

Still, the beating of your heart couldn't be helped every time you spoke to him. Oftentimes you would stammer when you hold eye contact longer than a few seconds. Nothing helps at all.

You feel like a loon during the times you'd happily bounce your feet on your bed, but your happiness takes over—entirely wrapped around Daniel's modest act of giving you his corduroy jacket to keep warm that night. And your roommates would cast you worn-out glances, not bothering to scold you anymore.

Not to mention when Daniel pulled out an Amortentia one certain trip to the Forbidden forest. And you spent that night staring at your dormitory ceiling, pondering on why in the world would he be carrying such a concoction.

Of course, he'd never use the sort. But you pshhed at him in your mind, stating matter-of-factly that you wouldn't need it. As if it would have been for you.

Daniel always has your back—that's something that you wouldn't need to be reminded of, unless you want to eat at it further.

Sometimes, he would whisper answers to you when you're called on to answer a question you don't know—while he'd reject anyone else who'd ask him for homework answers.

He'd quickly take notice of how you seem under the weather in class, and offer to assist you in getting to Hospital Wing. He asks questions to the teacher on your behalf when you're too scared. He'd shoot you a small smile from across the room if ever your eyes met...

And when he asked you to dance, you couldn't bring yourself to utter a single word. He so freely spoke to you as you two spun—you, on the other hand, averted your eyes. Oh you could go on and on.

And to you, it's ridiculous how you're acting so timid, when you would expect Daniel to be the one at that state!

He treats you like no one else, while he wouldn't even bat an eyelash at anyone else besides your friends.

Maybe, just maybe, the possibilities are better than you anticipated. Maybe one day all the things you so longingly imagine when floating on a cloud will come true. Truly, who could blame you?

He doesn't even deny caring about you like he used to during the first few months of your friendship. That's how special he's treating you! And it's unfair.

You might just want him to stop sometimes. Stop, because despite all your illusions, you still have some connection to reality. You certainly don't need any more reminders that he doesn't feel the same. Nevertheless, you wouldn't dare give up this particular treatment for anything.

Your other friends would even point at you accusatorily and refer to you as Daniel's favourite. And Daniel would cast a glance over them confirming it himself.

"Of course," He says, "You're just not [Y/N]." You could have sworn an angel was right by your side at that very time.

Oh the things that happen every day don't help you at all.

However, there are times where you want to collapse onto the ground.

Like times where he'd grimace at people who'd ask if you two "have something going on," and he'd icily tell them you're nothing more than loyal friends; you do your best to conceal how it stung.

Like the time where he stated matter-of-factly that he isn't looking for anyone to enter a romantic relationship with.

Or the times where he'd isolate himself from everyone, including you. No, especially you. Wondering if he's doing so because he knows how you feel and he can't reciprocate for hours on end.

But maybe it doesn't matter. As long as you always get to be the only one to see Daniel's true smiles, and the way you can internally fawn over the way he looks at you knowing deep down that it's nothing special.

You're the only one Daniel would dance with even if it's just a mere little favour, and someone Daniel wouldn't particularly reject if you asked him to dance yourself.

You're someone Daniel trusts with his entire life, you're someone Daniel would never doubt or need to worry about because you're you—his best friend. And you'd do everything to live out the rest of your days with that title. It's better to be something, than be nothing with him.

And that's all that matters. That and the nights you would happily drift into a state of daydreaming and overanalysing every thing he had done for you—things that's only reach to a certain extent of bare minimum.

At the end of the day, you two would still smile at each other like silly highschool sweethearts. And everyone would constantly tease you for it, much to Daniel's dismay.

a/n: in laufey's words, it's “the ultimate friends to lovers song for all your delusional daydreams”

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ— written by lnr #hpma x reader #hogwarts magic awakened x reader #daniel page x reader

[elumish]

Writing a Professional Email

I work in client services, which means that a frankly depressing amount of my job is writing emails, both for myself and for other people. There is an art and a science to writing professional emails.

The subject line

The subject line should be informative enough that somebody scanning through their inbox can tell what the email is about and whether they need to look at it any time soon. Depending on their job, some people get hundreds or thousands of emails a day, and they need to be able to tell at a glance whether an email is important to them.

When emailing someone particularly at another organization with a question, I will often use "Inquiry" or "Question" in the subject line. depending on industry standards, you may also use something like RFI (request for information).

If you want to be clear on why exactly you're sending an email, it is the standard in some industries to start your email with For Action: or For [Reason]: (e.g., For Review:, For Situational Awareness:). I generally only include that in emails staying within my organization, but depending on how well you know whoever you're emailing, you may or may not feel comfortable to do that outside of your organization.

You may not need to be that prescriptive in your email subject lines. if I'm emailing someone about tuition assistance, I might just use the subject "Tuition Assistance."

The salutation

How you address the person sets the tone of the entire email. A lot of this has to do with industry standards and the level of formality you're trying to convey.

At my organization, the explicitly-stated expectation is that you will address everyone, regardless of level, by their first name. If I got an email from someone at my organization referring to me by Ms. [Surname] I would be immediately confused and suspicious.

When emailing agents or addressing them in query letters, it seems like the expectation is often to use their first name--but you should always check, in case they specifically say they want to be referred to in some other way.

When emailing someone with an industry-specific title (professor, doctor, military or law enforcement) it's often your best bet to start with their title. You should make sure you know how to properly abbreviate them, if you do that--the same military rank, for example, is abbreviated differently depending on the service (e.g., Second Lieutenant is abbreviated 2LT, 2ndLt, and 2d Lt).

As you become closer to them, you may start to address them by their first name--but not necessarily.

Also some people/industries prefer "Hi" while others prefer "Dear". if you're really not sure, I've found that defaulting to "Good morning" or "Good afternoon" is often an easy workaround.

The body

Organize the body of the email so the most important information is clear, easy to find, and unambiguous. I frequently use bullets and/or tables in my emails. I also use strategic bolding and underlining, especially for due dates or specific asks.

If you don't know the person or they won't understand why you're the one emailing them about the thing, it can help to introduce yourself. If you're going to do so, keep it short and focus on the key info (e.g., "I am part of x team and am reaching out to you because of y").

If you think your email is too long, it probably is.

The closing

I recommend finding a closing that works for you and stick with it. What I see most commonly are Best, Regards, Best Regards, or Sincerely, but you have a good deal of flexibility here. (I use Regards.)

You should also consider whether to sign off with your first name, full name, or full name + title. I use first name because my signature has my full name.

The signature

Most (all?) email service providers let you set a default signature. My organization has a very prescriptive signature block, so for my work email I just use that.

If you don't have that, I recommend some version of

Full Name Organizational Title Organization

#professional writing #emails

[nicosraf]

sorry if this has been asked before—it probably has—but what was the publishing process for abm?

It hasn’t been asked before! It’s actually kind of strange to me how the majority of my followers now weren’t here for when ABM was being queried and then me discussing how I was gonna publish it. (I’m not sure why it freaks me out; I think I was less of an author then, I was just a guy who wrote a book, and now I’m an “author” and I’m not comfy adjusting).

But basically, Angels Before Man was published through Amazon KDP (and briefly B&N Press but that’s an unresolved long story); it went through a line editor and proofreader that I hired first, and then I paid a cover artist, bought formatting software (Vellum), and posted it. That was it. I did it all pretty quickly too. Not in a sloppy way; indie publishing just goes a million times faster because there’s less people to wait on, and there’s pressure to get things done quickly.

Before self-publishing though, I was querying (sending an email or application with a pitch letter and the first couple chapters of the manuscript) to literary agents with the hopes of getting it traditionally published. During that, I got mostly rejections, but some interested agents and requests for the full book. I joined writing twitter and started posting about ABM and it got quite a bit of attention on there (this will be relevant). I started to get really disillusioned with traditional publishing though; if you want to know why, you can pick up Yellowface by RF Kuang or just spend more than 3 minutes on writing twitter. I realized that ABM, even if it got picked up, would probably get censored, and that I had heavily self-censored myself to try and appeal to agent and editor sensitivities. I was worried it would take several years for ABM to ever get on a bookshelf. There was a lot of talk about debuts not finding their book stocked anywhere, and I realized that ABM might never end up on a bookshelf at all. Authors are being asked to do their own promotion these days; big publishers just say “go viral on Booktok” and throw them to the wolves. I worried about my anonymity.

And maybe this is a stereotypical reason but ABM is very personal, and I knew that it would become an impersonal product the moment I handed it away. I started imagining the marketing they’d do, the things they’d make me say, the cuts they’d make me write. And it’s not that I think I’m a perfect writer who refuses to edit, (I like working with editors), but that I feared they’d turn the book into something else altogether - a husk of itself. So I decided I didn’t want to have a “professional, real, traditional book” and I emailed the agents who had ABM that I would no longer be considering traditional publishing. At this point, I had three options: forget about publishing ABM at all, post ABM on archiveofourown/Wattpad/etc for free, or put in the work and make it an indie book.

I couldn’t forget ABM, because the story wasn’t really over to me (the sequels) but more importantly because people on Twitter and friends wanted it. I considered posting it online for free somewhere, but I had written ABM to be a book. I wanted to see it properly formatted and bound with a pretty cover. I had acquaintances who self-published successfully (Freydis Moon, Kellen Graves), and so I decided to give it a (terrified) shot.

I made a lot of mistakes though. (Distribution for ABM has been a nightmare). I remember in a previous post, I gave the advice that, if you’re interested in self-publishing, you should look into D2D and I stand by that. I’m available for any very specific questions you have! I still love indie publishing and heavily dislike traditional and I love supporting indie authors. Reach out if you need any help with anything!

The publishing process isn’t really over for ABM, of course, given… developments but right now nothing is for sure. (Will ABM get picked up by traditional publishers? Maybe. But maybe not). But this is how things have worked out. Again, let me know if you have any specific questions!! I’m always happy to help.

#will anyone be brave enough to to pick up abm? who knows #but i wish they’d hurry up deciding skskks #but yes ABM was literally self published from tiny apartment at my university at like 2 am in Novemeber #well i announced it and set up preorders a month in advance of the release #but that is all #?? i think #mine #ask #angels before man #i figure ill add this to the tag

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. I know you haven't read my book or my query so this might be hard to answer, but I was looking for some tips on how to construct feedback. I've gotten feedback that my query letter(s) read more like "high-level back jacket blurbs" instead of "what is needed for the query". They also said they almost moved on from the letter in their inbox but was hooked by the time they read it all. Could you break this down a bit for me and offer any advice? I can parse most of it but am still confused. (It also says at one point that that there should be more about the MC.) Does this mean I've written nice-sounding blurb that would entice a reader but not an agent? Why would a blurb entice a reader but not an agent? If it would entice a reader, surely it could hook the agent too? I kind of see what they're saying - but I'm also confused and not sure I'm analyzing the feedback right. Thank you so much.

As you note, it's hard to say really, since I don't know what the material is, and also I'm not sure what kind of "feedback" this was -- like was it a paid critique from an agent or editor? A friend just giving advice? MULTIPLE friends? Input on a writer's forum? Random offhand comments from different agents you actually queried put together? (Something else?) -- I feel like all these different people or groups might have different kinds of feedback, and I'd take some of it more seriously than others, you know? BUT ANYWAY:

When I see "high-level back jacket blurbs", that implies to me that you've given a big-picture kind of set-up in the pitch. ("High Level" not being synonymous with something like "Fancy and Sophisticated" or "Gifted and Talented" -- but in this case meaning more like "birds-eye view" kind of thing). Combined with them wanting "more about the MC", I suspect you are giving us a taste of the setting and world and a broad-strokes indication of the problem -- when what tends to be more effective is giving us a way in through the main character, and what THEIR problem is and what the stakes are for them, personally.

It would be like if you described the Wizard of Oz by telling us about how this is a fantasy about a magical world ruled by four witches, two of them good, two of them evil, and when a girl gets sent there from Kansas by a tornado, and accidentally kills one of the witches, she must go on a dangerous quest with her band of misfit friends, meeting all kinds of munchkins and whatnot along the way to meet a wizard in the Emerald City who might be able to grant them all wishes, but they face a variety of perils and all is not as it seems. In other words, the focus here is "big picture" and mostly setting up the world and the main thing that happens, but not setting up the main character or the stakes.

When what would probably be a more compelling pitch is focusing more on DOROTHY, what she wants, what her problem is, etc. She's the reader's way in to the story -- we want to care about her and find out what happens to her, right? So you might start by asking yourself some questions about her.

*** [ETA: It wouldn't hurt you to follow this "But" and "therefore" advice, either -- the literal "buts" and "therefores" do NOT have to be in the query itself, but it might help when writing out the story beats as below to help you from falling into a boring "and then" trap where you are just listing off events.]****

WHO IS OUR HERO? She's Dorothy! A plucky, resourceful farm girl who lives a hardscrabble existence in Dust Bowl Kansas, but has big dreams of a bigger and brighter world.

WHAT DOES SHE WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING? To get tf out of dusty old Kansas and find rainbows and happiness!

WHAT'S STOPPING HER FROM GETTING IT? She's a child, she has to live with her family, she loves her family but her family lives in Kansas, etc.

WHAT PROBLEM DOES SHE FACE? First there's a massive storm, which is scary -- BUT, her wish to leave Kansas actually DOES come true -- her house is swept up in a twister and deposited in the glittering realm of Oz! YAY! BUT, unfortunately, her wish came true at a cost -- her house crushed a witch when it landed. THEREFORE, though the people of Oz are happy about the witch thing, actually, she's now a murderer, and has been separated from her family with seemingly no way home. :(

SO WHAT CHOICE DOES SHE HAVE TO MAKE? Will she stay and embrace her new life as the pampered Hero of Munchkin-land with every treat and beautiful, magical thing she has ever dreamed of? Or put herself in danger and give up the lollipops to find a wizard nobody has ever even seen who MIGHT be able to help her get back to the farm and her family?

OK, THAT'S BAD -- BUT HOW DOES HER PROBLEM GET WORSE? Not only would the journey be lengthy and hard under normal circumstances, it's made significantly worse by a witch hell bent on killing her and her friends as retaliation for the death of her sister.

If you can answer these questions about your main character in the pitch, I suspect that it will help it feel less "High Level" and more High Stakes, and get the reader wanting to know what happens to the MC more quickly. (Maybe???)

[aohendo]

Happy Blorbsday! (to be answered anytime on any day because every day is blorbsday)

How have you been? I have been missing you and dear Kiris on my dash.

What kind of horrors has he been facing lately? Please feel free to go off about any OC thoughts that have been plaguing you or any trauma you have been inflicting on our favorite sad boy.

Happy Blorbsday!!

Life is certainly life 😅 Good and busy and nothing bad, just a lot. Expecting to get even busier over the next few months, too, so that's gonna be.... fun.

(It will be it's just I also like sleep).

Kiris, oh Kiris. This poor guy.

About two weeks ago, went back and blocked out all my ideas on how to fix Prince's plot: there's a few scenes to add, a few to rearrange, and a handful to cut, but Disney princess necromancy has solved all the issues! Into the fourth draft of it, now, which after a SPAG pass will be the version I send out to a first round of beta readers. My guesstimate is I'll be searching for people for that starting mid-late July!

The current horror Kiris facing today is *gasp* tea with 'L Tuola the empress. Doesn't sound terrible on the surface, but there's casually another prince being eaten by a hawk in the background, Ta Ritasa the advisor is being generally creepy, and 'L Tuola makes it very clear what she'll do to find the Prophet (who may or may not be trying to casually sip his tea (which also isn't really tea and Kiris hates it) across from her) and that she knows about Kiris' magic. Also some more set up stuff for the 'L Tuola/necromancy plot line, which Kiris is beginning to steadily really not appreciate even though he's pretty sure said necromancy is the only way to save his mentor from... one of his own prophecies.

In the span of the next two chapters after this, poor guy's gonna have two separate murder attempts on him and he's going to fail to save his mentor--the only person who's ever really cared about him. Shortly thereafter, Ta Ritasa begins finding ways to force magic from Kiris (guy's about to get wrung like a sponge 😬), a principality gets destroyed (and it's mostly Kiris' fault), and we begin the 'there's a fraud among us!' plotline. Not to mention the Turre getting even creepier, or Duvutriok coming around with various princes' heads, or all Batar's blackmail, or Iiriok trying to be friendly and compassionate (but clearly, obviously, he must have some further angle to it...)

Kiris just wants to hide under his bed. I'm really just hitting him with a baseball bat at this point, poor dude. Does not deserve this treatment.

I promise, these are all necessary steps in getting him his hug, though!

The goal for this draft is no more than 110k. That should be a fairly easy 10k to shave off during line edits, and 100k is a really nice spot for fantasy right about now. If I really had to in those future line edits I could probably get it even shorter (looking at Reverberate, which I somehow knocked from 123k down to 111k, but I genuinely don't know how), but I don't want to. Once I get to the halfway mark in about 2.5 chapters, I'm gonna go ahead and rewrite the tentative query letter for this thing--I've learned my lesson from Reverberate: it's much easier to do the query letter before the final draft, so that'll be a nice pause to get my thoughts in order.

How's everything with you? Haven't been around much lately (which is a shame, because I do miss popping in and seeing where everyone else is at with their projects and OCs. Gotta get back on that...)

#princeforhire #pfh edits #blorbo blursday #pfh d4

[iviarellereads]

System Collapse, Chapter 8

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which it's time to fight back with better tools than fists or energy gun arms.(1)

Murderbot starts assembling its documentary, loosely basing its fictional story around what it expects happened to the indentured contract workers it met on the way to Milu. It's using 94% of its processing capacity to do it, so Art-drone has to explain to the humans. Tarik is skeptical, Iris is just stressed, and Ratthi looks vacant because he's already reviewing MB's first draft.

It's including material from all sorts of sources. It knows the story has to be personal, so the part it's making up is the most important. It tries to craft it so that it will make humans care about the people whose story it's telling, as much as it cares about the humans in its shows.(2)

It was hard. I never liked watching helpless humans because I knew what happened to them, now I was having to not just watch it but create a story out of it and explain why and how it was happening.

Soon, Ratthi says some of his research is relevant, and he offers his archive for use. MB knew it was likely, and gives him a quick guide to the tagging system to help organize in the project space.

Then he sent me a note back: So, you may not know this, but I read your letter to Dr. Mensah, the one you sent when you left Port FreeCommerce. I think you’re absolutely the right person to write this.(3) I can’t handle that right now so I’m just going to archive it for later.

MB and Art-drone keep assembling. Art-drone generates voiceover of dramatic readings of text-only descriptions of some events, and together they organize the potentially useful persuasive clips from media in their available archives, fictional and otherwise. This is where MB knows they really need the humans' help, but it's feeling encouraged at how its project is shaping up in comparison to others in that cloud.

Tarik argues with Art-drone asking how many voices it can really replicate. Art-drone mimics Seth's voice perfectly to tell him any voice, and Tarik gets a moment to cuss before Art-drone assigns him the musical scoring for the piece. Tarik protests, he played a couple of traditional instruments in school. Iris pauses her conversation with Trinh to say they should interview Tarik for this.

MB remembers Tarik was on a death squad, and would be valuable input. They can steal the score from some other piece for now, the colonists won't recognize it anyway. Ratthi offers to interview, but isn't sure what to ask. Tarik, however, is motivated to not be in charge of music, and thinks they can figure it out.

Iris gets angry and cuts off the conversation, stomps over, and drops on the bed next to Ratthi. She says the colonists have agreed to watch the presentation, but the team needs to leave in the morning, as soon as the weather lets up.

They have five hours. It takes four and a half. They do a few dubiously ethical things, like morphing Iris's voice into Bharadwaj's which is explicitly against Preservation law but Ratthi is sure she'd give permission for this if she could. By the time they finish, there's not time for the human-helpers to watch the whole thing, at 47.23 minutes. So, they split it into thirds and each human watch one piece. A few corrections, and Art-drone is ready to push the final version.

Only, Trinh isn't available, so Iris isn't allowed to talk to anyone else. MB starts sweating, trying to figure out what to do, when Iris says she won't give up. She asks Art-drone how they can make the humans watch it. Art-drone says force likely isn't necessary: it opens AC2's media directory and says they can make it available to all.

MB, who doesn't even kick itself for not thinking of that because all that processing has its performance down, queries AC2 for file upload permission. After AC2 establishes the why, it gives MB an address to send it to, and reviews it to be sure it's not dangerous.

Ratthi wonders if they'll be able to watch it in time. Tarik says it's been forty years since they had anything new, of course they'll be intrigued. And Iris adds that it's really good.

AC2 asks about the accuracy, and Art-drone provides the list of sources and annotations.(4) AC2 confirms file upload, and MB sees it appear in the directory, tagged as entertainment as well as educational, but most importantly, as new. AC2 even added a note that it was a gift from the visitors on Team Art. MB wishes it hadn't added that part, as it's sure they're not very popular right now.

MB tells the team it's uploaded, and the humans all stop to stare at it. It stares back through its drones until Art-drone reminds them it'll take forty-eight minutes for most humans to watch, even if they get it immediately. Iris says they should get some rest, but Ratthi suggests they watch the whole thing, together. Tarik asks if that will really be less stressful.

At least no one had said if they watch it. Except I thought it, so. Whatever, I need to watch Sanctuary Moon now.

Art-drone cuts their access to the directory, so MB can't watch the download counter and catastrophize. So, while the humans watch the whole documentary, MB watches Sanctuary Moon on another bunk. It's comforting, but MB realizes it's in the mood for something new, in a way it hasn't felt since the incident. When they get back to Art-prime, it thinks it'll have to let Art pick something from a list it's been keeping, to apologize for being so useless.

It's then that MB realizes the humans are being distracting by not being distracting.

It knows it's a good sign when humans don't talk over media and when they don't move "except to eat crunchy things out of bags". And, it's having a bit of an emotional crisis about it all, as it spirals out about how this might let down all the people who helped. Art-drone says it's gained good insights from watching the humans watch it, MB doesn't need to worry.

Yeah, I’ll just code a patch to stop feeling anxiety, wow, why didn’t I think of that earlier. (That was sarcasm, I have too much organic neural tissue for that to work.) (Of course I’ve already tried it.)(5)

Finally, the humans get to the end. They listed the sources, but instead of credits, just left a statement that it's a collab between the University and Preservation.

Iris sighed and said, “That was excellent, SecUnit.” Ratthi said, “If they don’t like it, fuck them.” Tarik snorted a crunchy thing and had to be pounded on the back by Iris. “I’m serious,” Ratthi said, doing an exasperated hand-wave thing. “If they can’t recognize the truth in an attempt to save their lives, I don’t know what else to do.”(6)

Tarik asks Art-drone how they're doing on views. Art says there have been 362 downloads, 75 views completed just about as fast as their own, 287 still in progress. It finally unlocks MB's access to double check. Tarik asks how many people are in this colony, and Ratthi says 421, so most of the adults have downloaded it, and some will be watching in groups.

A call comes in to Iris's comm. Art warns her it's from Leonide. She accepts, disgruntled, but after says B-E are leaving, and want to meet again. MB notes that the weather is starting to clear, later than expected, but that probably means B-E were given the same request to leave.

Iris decides she and MB will go meet with them, while the others go prep the shuttle. Art-drone tries to argue, but Iris says they've done all they can, and the colonists know how to contact them. And, she is curious what else Leonide might have to say.

It wasn’t a bad plan, as plans go. I could still object and say I’d go alone, like before. Iris had already said as security consultant that kind of thing was my decision. But considering how that had worked out, I didn’t want to get set up by Leonide to say something stupid again, not when we might be close to succeeding.(7)

=====

(1) My alternative line for this today is "In which I could leave y'all with a one-paragraph summary but I'm not quite that cruel, at least about this series." (2) Fortunately, having watched several thousand hours of media and done a lot of thinking about the human condition, Murderbot is in a good position to understand stories and how to tell them. Just watching media can give you a baseline instinct for storytelling and how to craft and analyze it. It takes practice to refine it, and active work, but I feel like it's believable MB has spent time doing that. (3) Bestie's got your back, babe. (4) In the wake of all the plagiarism revelations this month, a very important detail that I'm glad wasn't lost in the sauce. (Pun intended.) (5) Gods, if only. (6) It's true, there's only so much they can do, and this was probably the strongest plan they could've come up with. (7) See, it CAN learn to do better.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #system collapse #murderbot #secunit #ratthi #tarik (murderbot) #iris (murderbot) #art (murderbot)

[meatbricks]

Maybe the killers with a reader they’re stalking who’s a taxidermist?

HELLO AND THANK YOU TO BOTH YOU GUYS!!!!!

sorry it took so long to get to this request again, i just wanted to make sure that the word count and quality of the fic you requested was up to my personal standards! personally, i think it turned out at least decent, so i really hope you enjoy!

warning: stalking (ofcourse), mentions of violence, mention of animal death, uhhhh. taxidermy?

fic is under the cut!!

"...Dude, look...!"

A hushed whisper, just outside the window looking in on your office. Of course, you didn't hear it, but the man accompanying the one whose voice uttered the phrase did. The large, masked man looking in as you entered the room you considered your "office space" was joined by a significantly smaller, skinnier man with long, greasy black hair, and they both watched as you approached your workstation and settled down at your desk. The smaller one tilted his head to the side, slightly smiling as he watched you.

Once again, of course, you were none the wiser. The only things on your mind were your needle, your thread, the stuffed animal-shaped form on your desk, and the fully-preserved raccoon hide next to it.

You'd received another "commission", as you called it, a few months ago, this time from a close friend. Their beloved pet raccoon had passed away, and they'd paid you to immortalize him in the form of taxidermy so that they'd always have his memory with them. As with all your clients, you happily obliged. Although taxidermy was still somewhat of a hobby for you, it was a long-term goal of yours to turn it into a career, and your friends had helped you get closer to making that into a reality. As you began to carefully fit the raccoon's skin around the form you'd constructed in the image of your friend's pet, you fondly remembered the time you had spent with the adorable animal... completely unaware of the fact that your every move was being watched and discussed by the two strange men outside your window.

"Is that... a dead raccoon...?" Another whisper, soft and subdued, this time from Painter.

"Huh... taxidermy," Bruteforce muttered. "Looks like you two have something in common."

"Such steady hands..." Painter's eyes affixed themselves to your hands as you began stitching.

"Reminds me of Ian..." Another absentminded mutter. "I'd suggest stitching 'em into something, but we already did that."

"Oh, I'm sure we could come up with something new in a similar vein..." A wicked smile spread across Painter's face as his mind began racing with all the things he wanted to do with you once he had you in his clutches. "What do you think...?"

"Maybe take the skin off and put it on another thing...?"

"Hmm... it would certainly be time-consuming, but it seems plausible..."

"I dunno, something to do with taxidermy... pull all the guts out n' replace 'em with cotton stuffing?"

"Oh, there's a good start...!" Painter's voice trailed off as he focused his attention back on you, intently waiting for something. Either the moment you inadvertently give some new information regarding your life and how easy it would be to disrupt it, or the moment you leave the room. He wanted to get a closer look into your private life.

"So, uh... you gonna claim your prize tonight?" A query from Bruteforce, cutting through Painter's thoughts. "Like... should I double-check that we got enough room in the car?"

"Not... quite... yet..." Painter muttered, his gaze still completely and utterly trained on you. "I want to know more... and I s-still haven't given my letter..."

"Oh, yeah, forgot about the letter..."

As Bruteforce finished speaking, the two of them fell silent. For the rest of the duration it took for you to finish your friend's commission, they simply sat watching you; one's line of sight tethered to you and your work, the other's darting all around the room at your taste in interior decoration. 5 minutes turned into 10, which turned into 25, and finally half an hour had passed before you finally finished stitching the hide onto the form. Before turning to leave the room, you briefly admired your work and smiled: your friend's little companion looked just like he had when he was alive. A few more touch-ups, and he'd be ready to return to his rightful home. The door shut behind you, and in an instant, you were gone.

Now was their chance.

"Hey! Hey—" Bruteforce hissed, pulling Painter back from entering the window. "Wait. Wait for a little bit, so you don't get caught. It's easy to hear someone climb through a window, y'know?"

A harsh, but resigned, sigh left Painter. "I suppose..."

A few more moments of silence transpired between them as they waited for you to get far enough away from the door. Minutes later, Painter found himself being lifted up to the open window in order to climb into the room you'd just left, climbing through the opening and landing surprisingly softly and quietly onto the ground. Slowly, deliberately, silently, he crept over to your desk. He pulled an old, yellowed envelope out of his pocket, briefly kissed it, and placed it down onto the very center of the desk. Taking one last look around the room, specially noting of some of the artwork you had hanging on the walls of your workspace, he promptly exited as soon as he entered, falling back onto the grass outside at the feet of his accomplice and rising to his feet again. The two men, your stalkers, left their place at your window for their car that had been parked just a few blocks down the street; all the while discussing what morbid things would happen to you once you were theirs.

-

Hours had passed before you decided to return to your work room, just to make sure that none of the stitches on your latest work had come loose. As the door creaked open, you could almost instantly tell that something was wrong. For starters, the strange, filthy bare footprints littering the floor that trailed from the window to your desk and back. Your heart sank. You realized much too late that someone had broken in, and for all you know they could still be in the house with you. The pounding of your pulse resonated in your ears as you then promptly noticed the envelope in the middle of your desk, and with reluctant footsteps and shaking hands, you approached.

As you sat down, you took out your phone and texted your friend as hastily as you could, just in case something went wrong and you ended up going missing that night.

"Dude... someone broke in and left a letter on my desk."

#this is the answer (ooc) #this is the answer #this is the fanfic #this is the writing #urbanspook #the painter urbanspook #urbanspook analog horror #x reader #🖌 #🪓 #if it isn't obvious i don't know how taxidermy works LMAOOO #IM SO SORRY I TRIED TO DO RESEARCH BUT A LOT OF THE SOURCES WERE FOR PEOPLE WHO WERE ALREADY FAMILIAR WITH TAXIDERMY ;W; #anyways uhh. stan reader's friend's pet raccoon #he will be missed

[deadmomjokes]

Hope you're doing well with all the hectic life stuff you mentioned! How is everyone doing, and how was the conference?

Thank you so much for checking in! It means a whole lot to me (especially because we ended up getting forgotten by quite a few folks irl who had said they'd come by to help with stuff 🙃)

It's going better now that the conference is over. Not to say that the conference was bad. It was actually really great. I got excellent guidance on writing an official query letter, I did very well on my presentation and panels, I had fun, I learned stuff, and- biggest news of all- I did 3 pitch sessions for a manuscript and all three were enthusiastic about it and asked for partials!

The not so great news that comes from that is that I'm kind of in the middle of rewriting the thing, so now I'm racing the clock, hoping that I can finish the rewrite before someone comes back requesting the full. And lemme tell ya, it needed the rewrite. So it's not like I can hand them the old version if I want any chance of actually landing a contract. So stress is still ongoing, but it's good stress in a way, I guess?

But! My husband feels great and is basically just waiting for doctor's permission to resume normal activities. He was up and walking the day after surgery, and the pain it was meant to remedy is totally gone. So it was a massive success! He's still barred from lifting, bending, and twisting at least through the end of March, as far as we know; he goes back on Monday for the doc to do a follow up, and we'll get more info about it then.

Our daughter has decided to spontaneously potty train herself after watching a younger friend who is just learning to use the potty, which is a total shocker to us. Welcome, but absolutely out of left field. One of the things she's been in therapy for is her panic and terror about the potty, and she just... decided. It's so weird. Great weird, but weird. (I'll take it tho.)

But, unfortunately, the saga of trying to figure out her stomach issues hasn't been going great. We had her appointment and they wanted an endoscopy, right? Told us that the scheduling department would be in touch within 2 weeks. After two weeks had gone by, I called them, played switchboard transfer tag, and eventually found out that the doctor had never put the order in. The people we were talking to who found that out for us helped get it put on the doctor's priority list so it would officially go to scheduling, and then said they'd try to get us bumped up the waitlist since we should have been scheduled already based on initial appointment date. Only nope, turns out they couldn't do that because of how the system works, gotta wait another two weeks. Meanwhile, mind you, she's not allowed to take the medicine that actually helps control the symptoms, so she's a hungry, tired, cranky, pained mess. So two weeks later, I call them back because- big surprise- no word yet. They said they see the order, but scheduling just hasn't gotten around to it yet. They flag it for immediate attention. Two days later, I get the call to schedule it, and due to the fact that she had a cold recently, they wouldn't get her in any sooner than a full month after the last symptoms. Now you know a cough can linger for ages after you stop being contagious, particularly in a high-pollution, cold, low-humidity environment, which is where we live. But policy is policy.

So all that comes out to the fact that unless she gets sick again, her endoscopy is the week of St. Patrick's Day, and after that she can go back on the meds that helped best while they compile the results. At that point, assuming it confirms what we all think it is, we get referred to the nutritionist and start the arduous task of elimination-diet-ing a child who exclusively lives on bagels and cream cheese. She's not gonna be happy. Nobody's gonna be happy. But it'll be what it is, and it'll help her in the long run.

All in all, life is still crazy, and I'm totally losing my mind some days, but it's not quite as crazy and mind-lose-y as it was. Which is progress!

#life #personal #asks

[ladyazulina]

Linney's Campaign

Masterpost

And the time arrived, everybody...

I wrote this introduction five days ago, and then waited for the poll results to do something else (I didn't even write at all while waiting, so...).

This is the start!

I let myself post it because I wrote 500+ words on an extra scene on my main project today; not what I intended, but it's still progress, right? So, my reward.

Also, I'm going to try to write on live about the campaign. I repeat: I'm going to try, so if someone is interested in seeing the process or being able to throw ideas, everyone is welcome to follow me on Twitch, I will try to properly rename the stream when the campaign is happening. I will try a lot of things, hang in there for me, please 😭

Also x2, you can see this part on the Spring - Day 1, first tick on Linney's page.

Now, the proper... finally.

Words: 412.

Your New Life Is About To Begin…

Envision your arrival into Iron Valley, how is your character getting there? Are they walking the whole way or using a method of transportation? Who, or what, has helped your character to arrive at this little town far away from everything else?

It wasn't so much a decision as it was a necessity. It was also stated in the– don’t think about the letter, don’t think about the letter, don’t think about the letter –that I will find answers in Iron Valley. Whatever the questions were. The letter wasn’t really a source of information but a new wave of doubts. And I don’t like doubts. So I barely grabbed a few things and looked for the fastest way to reach there.

Ask the Spirit of the Forest #1 When you seek to resolve questions, discover details about the Valley, determine how other characters react, you may… Format your query as a yes / no question and roll on the following table. Question: Was Linney able to leave immediately? It drew an 82, so the answer is yes.

The letter– don’t think about its content, don’t think about its content, don’t think about its content –had some urgency that I wasn’t able to postpone. And not soon enough I was at the farthest city reachable by train. And then, at the farthest town reachable by bus. And why the hell is so hard to reach Iron Valley? I even took a cart, but still had a three-hour walk through a forest in which halfway I pondered the possibility of it being cursed or something because no one wanted to take me to the other side. It didn’t seem cursed. Until it started to get chilly. Nothing happened, though, and when I got out I found out why it was so chilly. It’s cloudy, and if the wet grass can be taken as a witness of something, it rained not long ago—thank goddess for the leafy canopy. Though according to the black clouds of the south, it will rain not long from now. I should have looked at the weather before coming… Iron Valley, finally, isn’t that far. Protected by a forest at both sides, a mountain behind –that’s why I was only able to reach it through the forest, huh–, and a wildflowers field in front. The place that should have all the answers—a thunder rumbles across the whole clearing, taking me by surprise—if only I reach there before the storm.

Next Part: Let's not get drenched anymore, please

#iron valley #solo ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpg #tabletop rpg #rpg #solo rpg #mxkirin #maxkirin #linney campaign #linney #linney's campaign #writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing community #writing #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writer #writerblr

[davidfarland]

David Farland’s Writing Tips: What to Focus on in Your Changing Career

Have you ever met a new writer who is so excited about writing novels, they put all of their energy into figuring out how to sell it?

Seriously, I met one young woman a few years ago who spent two years polishing a query letter for agents. She sent it out to over a hundred agents at once and got nearly every single agent to send eager requests asking for the whole manuscript. She sent the manuscript, and every single agent passed on it. Obviously, in that two years, she should have taken time to learn to polish the manuscript. So she wasted time and energy focusing on the wrong thing.

I can tell similar stories about writers who spend inordinate amounts of time learning how to self-publish, so that they master the skills needed to launch a book without ever learning how to write one.

Others spend inordinate amounts of time plotting or going to writing conventions.

May I suggest this formula for success:

In the pre-sales phase of your career, learn how to write. You may need to take some classes to help get you going, but most of your learning will come as you write.

This means learning to be productive even when you’re exhausted from holding a cranky baby all night. (Most new writers have to learn to deal with fatigue and sleep deprivation, since they are working all day at their jobs and caring for young ones, while writing too.) So learn how to snatch a few minutes of writing time, to keep focused on your projects, and juggle responsibilities.

You’ll know when you’ve managed it because you’ll be productive. You’ll find joy in writing and will produce stories and novels that are close to sellable quality.

Learn to finish your work. This means that you need to polish it a few times, perhaps, and up the quality, but don’t do that forever.

Reach a point where your writing group thinks it is “fantastic,” then stop gilding the lily. You’ll know you’re finished when the work elicits a powerful emotional response in your audience. Once you’re done, leave it be.

Learn to sell your work. This means more than just writing a successful query letter.

As a new writer, feel free to learn a bit about your markets, but when it comes time to really start selling, please consult with a pro.

That begs the question, “Who is a pro?” Is your editor a pro, or your agent? In a sense. They generally know how to sell books in their market, but they may your editor may be woefully ignorant of how to work in outside sales channels.

Let me explain: There are a lot of people out marketing books or courses who seem to know one way to sell books. For example, they might feature a class on how to sell on Amazon or how to use Facebook or Goodreads or YouTube. In short, they’ve mastered one advertising channel, one that you need to master, too.

But just because you’ve succeeded in selling books in one sales channel, doesn’t mean you know how to sell books in others. There are literally dozens of channels that I know of. Each can lead to a certain amount of success, but not all books can be sold the same way.

I know one author here in the US who made millions by selling her book in Poland. That doesn’t mean that you’ll have any luck with that. However, you might.

Fiction novels don’t necessarily sell the same way as nonfiction novels. Some fiction books make great movies while others don’t translate. New sales mediums open almost daily.

So keep your eyes open and consider alternate ways to sell your books.

Learn to sell your work again. When you have a maturing property, one that has sold well in one channel—say as a paperback book in the US market, you need to expand your sales efforts. You want to sell those rights in foreign countries perhaps twenty or thirty times over. Or you want to learn how to maximize income from electronic rights, and from audiobooks. You may need to learn how to work with producers to sell film rights, and so on.

Your books never die. You may need to learn how to repackage them with different covers and sell in markets that haven’t even been developed yet, but your books never die.

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing help #writing advice #writing tips and tricks

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: Welcome to Dispassion (pt.1)

“Welcome to Dispassion” is what the sign says. It’s written in glittering cherry-blossom pink lettering. It would be a very pretty sign, if it weren’t for the fact that it was rotting away in front of you. There used to be an image plastered behind the letters, but it’s mostly melted away, leaving nothing but chipped paint behind. Crusted mold festers at the sign’s edges, and cockroaches crawl in and out of the gaps in the wood. It’s a rather gross-looking sign, really. You’re not really sure why you’re here, in a silly little town like this. Apparently it’s because Bea smells a monster lurking nearby. See, except that’s the confusing thing; there’s nothing here that would indicate the existence of a monster. THere isn’t any corpses or bones littering the floor, and there isn’t any kind of background static itching at your brain. That’s something you’ve noticed about the monsters. They all leave a faint trail of static, but no one else seems to notice. In fact, you hadn’t really noticed either, until recently anyway. Thinking back to all the monsters you remember, there was always that white noise prickling at the edges of your thoughts, you just couldn’t identify it before. Here though, in “Dispassion” there’s nothing.

 Not only that, but you think that by coming here, you’ve gotten sidetracked from the more important mission; taking Aderyn home. Aderyn seems to think so too, her brows are scrunched together in worry, and she keeps pulling on her fingers. You think that might be a nervous habit of hers, you’ve seen her do it countless times before. 

When you asked Gia about it earlier, when you first started making your way here, they assured you that this wouldn’t take very long and that you would all be back on your way soon enough. You don’t really think they were being entirely honest with you. They have a thirst for hunting monsters, and they don’t really have their priorities in order.  You were supposed to only hunt monsters on the way to the possible locations of Aderyn's home, but this is a bit out of the way. You should be heading…

That’s weird. You’re not really sure what direction you should be heading in. In fact, you’re not really sure where “on the way” is, so how have you all known where to go this whole time? Maybe directions here are kind of like how time is.  Maybe directions exist, but not entirely the way they should? That still doesn’t make sense to you, but then again, neither does the non-existence of time. 

Well, whatever. If it’s like how time is, then you don’t want to risk asking about it, not after how everyone reacted last time. It’s not like asking anyone would actually help you. You’ll only be more confused if you do ask. It doesn’t really matter anyway. 

“Sooo…. Dispassion huh?” Emerson says, breaking the silence between you. 

“Yup!” Gia says, slapping the sign. “This is where the monster’s at all right.”

“Dispassion…” Aderyn mutters to herself. “What a peculiar name for a town, and with the state of this sign I wonder if…” She trails off. 

“Hmmn? What do you wonder?” Emerson queries, turning towards Aderyn. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a silly thought.” She says in a far-away voice. “It just sounds like something straight out of a work of fiction, that’s all.”

Does it? You wonder. You’re not really sure. Perhaps it did, it’s been a while since you’ve read any work of fiction after all. Has it? It must have been awhile, because you can’t remember the last time you read anything at all. 

“Well then,” Gia says, turning away from the sign and towards the town.“Shall we get going?”

#writeblrcafe #my writing #writers life #weirdcore #weirdcore/dreamcore #dreamcore #writblr #Writers on tumblr #Welcome to Nowhere #work in progress #writerscorner #writers community #writing community #writing

[haru-sen]

Writing Update

Finished up revisions on book two. The working title is The Wolfsbane Trail. Passed it on to my second round beta readers; also have an optional smut chapter for it and a 23k novella that takes place two weeks afterward. I’m 34k into book 3, considering a 2.6 novella from a kid character’s perspective, and debating the merits of starting a new YA or MG fantasy after this.

So as a lot of you know, I’m querying for The Foxglove Pact right now. It feels like a mash-up of job-hunting and online dating: you need to find the right candidate with mutual interest, who you can work well with. They also need to be really into you, because they need to turn around and sell you to a publishing house. So you, as the queri-er have to deal with a lot of rejection from the quer-ee (the agent). Everyone’s heard the stories of well-known authors receiving tons of rejections, so I figured I was pretty prepared for it. (Insert joke about my dating life/job hunting experiences.) And you know, compared to ten years ago, it’s a lot nicer. I have a friend (published and an excellent writer) who received a letter from an agent who told her to stop writing. Very rude. Most form responses now include a line about how the rejection is a matter of personal taste, the agent does not feel like they are the best representative for this work at this time, and that the writer should not give up. Honestly, on its own, it’s not too bad.

And then you get several form rejections in one week. Oof, real cumulative DOT with a mood debuff. I’ve since made rules about not checking that email box first thing in the morning. I also have a couple full manuscripts requested, which helps with the salt.

A majority of agents use Querymanager for submissions, though a significant number still use email. As the writer, I use the sister system Querytracker to check for updates from other people on the site. (Agent A switched genres. Agent B is active again! Agent C went on hiatus.) It can be very helpful. (Agent D doesn’t actually want more of this genre. Agent E is notorious for ghosting people. Agent F is really nice, but might not get back to you for a year.) It can get obsessive. (Agent G normally rejects people after 14 days, but asks for a manuscript after 20. It’s been 30 days. Oh shit, they’ve responded to someone after me. WTF. I need to check my submission confirmation! Maybe they didn’t get it! Oh, here’s the confirmation…) I’m considering a premium membership just so I can better use filters, i.e. hide the rejections. I don’t need updates on the agents who passed on my work. No hard feelings, I’m just focusing on the people who are still options for me.

Unsurprisingly, my most useful feedback was from agents who read the full manuscripts. They liked the voice, they enjoy the story, but… Here’s the weird little nugget that I’ve learned over this process, and I get it. “I already represent something too close to what you have.” Obviously, you should be approaching agents who wishlist the genre you’re writing, but keep an eye on their author list, because most seem to have an (understandable) issue with splitting resources between too-similar clients.

After a couple months of submission, I think my base query letter is solid. I am improving it, as well as my comps and other meta additions. (biography, comparisons i.e. like Skulduggery Pleasant meets Monstress or Sandman Slim meets the Ancient Magus’ Bride), My one-line pitch could use some work. But not everyone asks for one. What do you mean “tell me about yourself?” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

Ahem.

Anyway, need to get back to book 3.

#writing #query process

[open-hearth-rpg]

Epistolary: Great RPG Mechanics #RPG Mechanics: Week Five

You may or may not remember De Profundis. I died a little inside when I discovered it came out in 2002. In English at least. The Polish original came out even earlier. It was among a group of smaller, indie publications launching at the time– a few years later we’d start to see things like My Life With Master and The Shab Al-Hiri Roach. De Profundis, though, was a little more abstract. It’s literally play-by-post, because you write physical letters. 

The basic concept is that you write sprawling, meditative letters about weirdness in a character’s life, possibly a thinly glossed version of yourself in another place or time. The letters themselves should be artifacts– physical objects you can mark up, annotate, and leave little additional clues or objects in. You send these to another player who then replies to your strangeness with queries or their own experiences. You continue this back and forth with an escalating sense of things being off. 

The game leans into a Lovecraftian vibe, though it is not particularly specific about the mythos itself, which is great. That allows you to lean into one of, IMHO, the best aspects of Role-Playing": being able to consider and describe something from the first person. What would this strangeness actually look like to someone unfamiliar with the interior intricacies? There’s a whole series for the original Hunter: The Reckoning rpg from White Wolf built on this– humans trying to make sense of all the supernatural bs of the world.

The touchstone here is the work of Lovecraft and a lot of his followers. But it also points to Dracula, not the original epistolary novel, but the shadow which looms over this form for literary form in horror. That’s notable for being a strongly mixed-media piece– with different voices over time as well as newspaper clippings and summaries.

De Profundis is also interesting in that it comes about right at the turn of the millennium, when most people were starting to have email as an ever-present and constant feature in their lives. Folks began to realize that this would always be something they’d need to have and be connected to. De Profundis reacts to that by asking the players to create something concrete and not ephemeral.  

It’s also interesting that De Profundis is among the first solo rpgs, a movement which has become stronger and more developed in recent years. In this sense the game really offers just a loose form– more an idea that you could do some writing like this. I don’t think there’s a direct line from De Profundis to something like Thousand Year Vampire, but there is a connection.

I never got more than a couple of exchanges into a De Profundis game. Some of that’s my own problem with solo gaming. I’ve never been able to get into play by post either. I go in with the best of intentions, but inevitably crash out. There’s not enough feedback to catch my lizard brain. So I was a little worried when I played the Good Society, with its dedicated epistolary phase. 

Good Society’s gameplay has a tight structure: Novel, Reputation, Rumor & Scandal, and finally Epistolary. In this last phase players write letters, I believe 1 or 2, from the characters  under their control. These can be written out fully or sketched out and then summarized by the player. I’m glad the game encourages the former and permits the latter. 

These are an absolute joy. These letters offer the chance for characters to regroup and consider the implications of events from earlier. You can reveal new details, comment on occurrences, set up new plot threads, question people’s motivations. They’re dynamite as a moment of commentary. I get that they’re echoing the original literary sources, but I think it is worth considering how well they operate as a moment of reflection built into the game. That’s something I think a lot of games could benefit from mechanically.

Lots of groups do Stars & Wishes, Epilogues, Debriefs, but often these are either meta-discussions or done at the end of a campaign. Good Society has these connected to a regular cycle of play. You could build something like this into a campaign to serve as a breaker or signal for the changing of arcs. Ask each player to write or summarize a letter, journal entry, or email from their character. I think it offers way to explore character that we often don’t get in ttrpgs.

#ttrpg #rpg #rpg mechanics

[duamuteffe]

THE FEAST OF NEMESIS - Saki (H.H. Munro)

“It’s a good thing that Saint Valentine’s Day has dropped out of vogue,” said Mrs. Thackenbury; “what with Christmas and New Year and Easter, not to speak of birthdays, there are quite enough remembrance days as it is.  I tried to save myself trouble at Christmas by just sending flowers to all my friends, but it wouldn’t work; Gertrude has eleven hot-houses and about thirty gardeners, so it would have been ridiculous to send flowers to her, and Milly has just started a florist’s shop, so it was equally out of the question there.  The stress of having to decide in a hurry what to give to Gertrude and Milly just when I thought I’d got the whole question nicely off my mind completely ruined my Christmas, and then the awful monotony of the letters of thanks: ‘Thank you so much for your lovely flowers.  It was so good of you to think of me.’  Of course in the majority of cases I hadn’t thought about the recipients at all; their names were down in my list of ‘people who must not be left out.’  If I trusted to remembering them there would be some awful sins of omission.”

“The trouble is,” said Clovis to his aunt, “all these days of intrusive remembrance harp so persistently on one aspect of human nature and entirely ignore the other; that is why they become so perfunctory and artificial.  At Christmas and New Year you are emboldened and encouraged by convention to send gushing messages of optimistic goodwill and servile affection to people whom you would scarcely ask to lunch unless some one else had failed you at the last moment; if you are supping at a restaurant on New Year’s Eve you are permitted and expected to join hands and sing ‘For Auld Lang Syne’ with strangers whom you have never seen before and never want to see again.  But no licence is allowed in the opposite direction.”

“Opposite direction; what opposite direction?” queried Mrs. Thackenbury.

“There is no outlet for demonstrating your feelings towards people whom you simply loathe.  That is really the crying need of our modern civilisation.  Just think how jolly it would be if a recognised day were set apart for the paying off of old scores and grudges, a day when one could lay oneself out to be gracefully vindictive to a carefully treasured list of ‘people who must not be let off.’  I remember when I was at a private school we had one day, the last Monday of the term I think it was, consecrated to the settlement of feuds and grudges; of course we did not appreciate it as much as it deserved, because, after all, any day of the term could be used for that purpose.  Still, if one had chastised a smaller boy for being cheeky weeks before, one was always permitted on that day to recall the episode to his memory by chastising him again.  That is what the French call reconstructing the crime.”

“I should call it reconstructing the punishment,” said Mrs. Thackenbury; “and, anyhow, I don’t see how you could introduce a system of primitive schoolboy vengeance into civilised adult life.  We haven’t outgrown our passions, but we are supposed to have learned how to keep them within strictly decorous limits.”

“Of course the thing would have to be done furtively and politely,” said Clovis; “the charm of it would be that it would never be perfunctory like the other thing.  Now, for instance, you say to yourself: ‘I must show the Webleys some attention at Christmas, they were kind to dear Bertie at Bournemouth,’ and you send them a calendar, and daily for six days after Christmas the male Webley asks the female Webley if she has remembered to thank you for the calendar you sent them.  Well, transplant that idea to the other and more human side of your nature, and say to yourself: ‘Next Thursday is Nemesis Day; what on earth can I do to those odious people next door who made such an absurd fuss when Ping Yang bit their youngest child?’  Then you’d get up awfully early on the allotted day and climb over into their garden and dig for truffles on their tennis court with a good gardening fork, choosing, of course, that part of the court that was screened from observation by the laurel bushes.  You wouldn’t find any truffles but you would find a great peace, such as no amount of present-giving could ever bestow.”

“I shouldn’t,” said Mrs. Thackenbury, though her air of protest sounded a bit forced; “I should feel rather a worm for doing such a thing.”

“You exaggerate the power of upheaval which a worm would be able to bring into play in the limited time available,” said Clovis; “if you put in a strenuous ten minutes with a really useful fork, the result ought to suggest the operations of an unusually masterful mole or a badger in a hurry.”

“They might guess I had done it,” said Mrs. Thackenbury.

“Of course they would,” said Clovis; “that would be half the satisfaction of the thing, just as you like people at Christmas to know what presents or cards you’ve sent them.  The thing would be much easier to manage, of course, when you were on outwardly friendly terms with the object of your dislike.  That greedy little Agnes Blaik, for instance, who thinks of nothing but her food, it would be quite simple to ask her to a picnic in some wild woodland spot and lose her just before lunch was served; when you found her again every morsel of food could have been eaten up.”

“It would require no ordinary human strategy to lose Agnes Blaik when luncheon was imminent: in fact, I don’t believe it could be done.”

“Then have all the other guests, people whom you dislike, and lose the luncheon.  It could have been sent by accident in the wrong direction.”

“It would be a ghastly picnic,” said Mrs. Thackenbury.

“For them, but not for you,” said Clovis; “you would have had an early and comforting lunch before you started, and you could improve the occasion by mentioning in detail the items of the missing banquet—the lobster Newburg and the egg mayonnaise, and the curry that was to have been heated in a chafing-dish.  Agnes Blaik would be delirious long before you got to the list of wines, and in the long interval of waiting, before they had quite abandoned hope of the lunch turning up, you could induce them to play silly games, such as that idiotic one of ‘the Lord Mayor’s dinner-party,’ in which every one has to choose the name of a dish and do something futile when it is called out.  In this case they would probably burst into tears when their dish is mentioned.  It would be a heavenly picnic.”

Mrs. Thackenbury was silent for a moment; she was probably making a mental list of the people she would like to invite to the Duke Humphrey picnic.  Presently she asked: “And that odious young man, Waldo Plubley, who is always coddling himself—have you thought of anything that one could do to him?”  Evidently she was beginning to see the possibilities of Nemesis Day.

“If there was anything like a general observance of the festival,” said Clovis, “Waldo would be in such demand that you would have to bespeak him weeks beforehand, and even then, if there were an east wind blowing or a cloud or two in the sky he might be too careful of his precious self to come out.  It would be rather jolly if you could lure him into a hammock in the orchard, just near the spot where there is a wasps’ nest every summer.  A comfortable hammock on a warm afternoon would appeal to his indolent tastes, and then, when he was getting drowsy, a lighted fusee thrown into the nest would bring the wasps out in an indignant mass, and they would soon find a ‘home away from home’ on Waldo’s fat body.  It takes some doing to get out of a hammock in a hurry.”

“They might sting him to death,” protested Mrs. Thackenbury.

“Waldo is one of those people who would be enormously improved by death,” said Clovis; “but if you didn’t want to go as far as that, you could have some wet straw ready to hand, and set it alight under the hammock at the same time that the fusee was thrown into the nest; the smoke would keep all but the most militant of the wasps just outside the stinging line, and as long as Waldo remained within its protection he would escape serious damage, and could be eventually restored to his mother, kippered all over and swollen in places, but still perfectly recognisable.”

“His mother would be my enemy for life,” said Mrs. Thackenbury.

“That would be one greeting less to exchange at Christmas,” said Clovis.

#saki #the feast of nemesis

[abyssalcreator21]

Pandemic Thoughts # 144

Weekends as always feels like fifteen minute break on a school day. That is how time is getting shorter and faster. As usual, I am always in my lazy mode during the weekend and I haven't done much progress or update with my academics. Well, I really do preferred studying on school rather than at home because I cannot focus clearly. So far, my girlfriend's week in Cavite was fun, she was busy for the week preparing for the birthday of her niece and in the same time, having the farm of her half-brother blessed. I just constantly update her how she was doing and she was fine. While me on the other hand, there was no progress for our thesis paper, we haven't sent the validation letters yet because we are just waiting for a better instruction of our thesis adviser. I know in myself that somehow I just get panicky and felt anxious about the paper because of the delays but I am confident that we will work it out. It has been already three weeks since classes have started and so far when regards to our paper, the validation letter has been modified and we just need to send it. Most of the contribution in the paper is on me and my one co-members, but I do not forget also giving my classmates their instructions on what to do, yet, it is still better if we do it on person altogether. I understand that we have a whole semester to finish the paper and have it ready for the defense in December, yet somehow, I really find it hard also for us to come up with a common time that we can meet and discuss things on how to move forward. I understand that they have duties and own responsibilities as mothers, daughters, and etc, but I really do hope that they are not passive with this task/responsibility and Ma'am Anj always reminds us with it. She reminds us that as much as possible we have progress on every week and I am glad at least we will meet with our thesis adviser later this afternoon. At least, we can now push forward with the paper because I also have queries about the sampling that we should follow and how many participants should be involved. That is why I want to view past thesis papers that are already published so that I could watch how they have come up with the sampling. It is going to be another week that I am going to be busy with the paper. I hope everything will just go well in the next weeks of my academic life as a senior student.

#creativewriting #harayaatmgaletra #blogs

[hinsonwilliford8]

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