The candles got stranger, the deeper you ambled into the shop. Sandalwood and Gravemoss? Campfire Smoke and bodyless howling? Impossible geometry and chanting from sunken temple hallways lit by flickering green light?

He became salt. Silent. Kelp tangles in his hair.

So she ignored the rust on her bike, purchased fish only to let them rot in the sun, drank water only when her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, then hammered the bathtub into shards into shells into sand.

#microfiction

Deep inside the forest, you come upon the broken hull of a ship. There isn't water for miles, but there had to been here some once, you figure.
Inside the hull, it's dark. You note the location & follow your trail back.
Someone follows you. Wet footsteps.

#vssghostship #satsplat

Prometheus did not bring fire to men, he brought men to fire—human bodies for pure spirit to wear. Flesh to cloak the flames so they could wander, and learn the touch of water, dust, and grass

Things I would rather swallow before being ready for Beta-reader feedback:

1) V3.2 of The Galactic Sorrow encyclopedia
2) A family of horned-seamonkeys with wanderlust

#writing #aversion #real -life-arc

The Salt-Bitten are much like vampyr. Ocean brine feeds their dead veins and coral hung above the galley door keeps them at bay. On starless nights, you can hear their whale songs. If you hear their sodden feet walking on the deck at night though – do not leave your cabin.

I am temporary.
I am flawed. I am limited.

I am the creature who can gather these facts
in cupped hands like heaped acorns,
like a forest about to wake,

and decide they are all too beautiful for poetry,
even while offering my honest,
loving failure.

#poetrytwitter #naturalist

You won't read this book by qntm.
Nor recall how your childhood demons shrank into motes in ratio to what crawled out beneath these pages. You won't recall the awe that hides inside numbers,nor what it means to leave a single digit unobserved. It's beauty is fleeting & ████.

Moths are the product of ancient human genecraft. A first line of defence against visiting gods: they throw themselves at the light, to shield from beings whose undark gaze would kill

If you dig while dreaming, you will uncover the fossils of previous dreams—even those forgotten. You can forensically reconstruct old nightmares from their bones

3-Act Structure is prehistoric. Questioning whether we can ever leave its form any more than choosing oxygen to breathe, i.e. even when creating non-3-Act, are we really still trapped inside Act 1 of a cosmic macro cycle too big to perceive?

#WritingCommunity

Master the art of captivating dialogue. Learn how tightening dialogue can make it even punchier, funnier, and more insightful.

helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/an-insanely-si…

#AmWriting #WritersLife #Writetip #writer #writer scommunity #writer s #writer slife #writer snetwork #writer sblock #screenwriter

We need a word to describe the sensation of pouring your marrow into a sentence that feels so pure and immortal, but simultaneously some part of yourself can feel your future editor already annihilating its existence.

#WritingCommunity #drafting

That last chapter I edited was a half-baked lasagne. I'll obey the consequentialist in me that says power on, don't look back, redraft later.

But my shadow self is already 2am sleepwalking into the fridge for a mature cheddar, then sleep-editing away the sins of today.

#writing

The bell nymphs are beautiful, but difficult to speak to. They have hard tongues, which they tap against the metallic walls of their mouths. Their language is all ringing, and they have no interest in learning ours

Is it okay to make up new words in fiction?

My most recent is...
Shlap: verb, the sound pant legs make when they're sopping wet, or to walk with pants in this state.

Example: She shlapped onto the shore, soaked.

#WritingCommunity #writingq

We sloughed him off into the nebulæ for an unforgivable span. He should have warped until his lungs were inhaling star detritus.

Defying all dice, he nuzzled into the quantum, like his human form were the dewiest layer of the Matryoshka.

We hailed on comms. He sang ███
#vss

Occult methods for luring in your writing muse:

1--Divination via pencil sharpener shavings
2--Inkwell micro-dosing
3--Converting your WIP from text-to-speech, then broadcasting the audio through a body of liquid, simultaneously boiling the aqueous body to remove adverbs.

#☽

Internal dialogue VS. External dialogue. With an introverted MC, I can justify more internal dialogue than usual, but I am questioning whether I'm milking the internals too hard. What do you think, writers? What gets lost in the process?

#editing