ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

fuck it. post chapter 1 of canon-divergent ocean’s trilogy fanfic.

winner takes it all (T, 1.3k, 1/4)

When the entire economy crashes and burns in the fall of 2008, Danny Ocean is doing alright.

Financially, that is. He is doing alright, financially.

im not even lying about this. he doesn’t wear it the whole movie... what does it mean…. what does it all mean

i wrote an ocean’s eleven fic! check it out!

play your cards right (T, 2k, complete)

Rusty takes a lollipop from his jacket pocket and delicately unwraps it. “And remember, we want a good, clean game. Only Linus gets to cheat.”

A group of liars and thieves play a game of poker.

I hope everybody who’s in favour of a robust public domain is prepared to conquer their impulse to get pissed off at remakes that egregiously miss the point of their source material, because as media from the 1930s and 1940s begins to enter the public domain in the coming years we’re going to be seeing a whole lot of that, and I for one can’t fucking wait.

Secret samol gift for @courtrecord!! Jaceaddax mean everything to me and I loved the prompt of some diegetic writing from Jace's perspective!!

Summary:

Written by Dr. Jace Rethal-Dawn, published in This Branch Of Ours: Ancient Writings On Becoming Who We Are, edited by Ligature Dedicated to Addax Dawn. My love, in all the words I ever write, I can't hope to capture what you are to me. But in the striving, there will be a record that I lived, and that I loved you.

as we approach tu bishvat I am thinking about the olive trees in palestine. as we approach the new year for trees i am thinking about all the trees burned and cut down and decimated in palestine during the past century. as people gear up to donate to the reforestation and ecological concerns of occupied lands for tu bishvat i am thinking of the disregard for the environment in gaza and the west bank, i am thinking of the destruction of agricultural sites, of families’ olive groves and pomegranate trees that have stood for decades or even centuries, i am thinking of the ecological impact of incessant bombardment. as i get the zoom link to the tu bishvat seder with a list of foods to prepare in my email i am thinking of hunger in palestine.

donate to care for gaza

donate to PCRF

donate to anera

what do you think the gay nightlife scene is like on Tatooine

this might be weird to ask, but how do I critically look at another person's writing and implement what I like in their writing in my own writing? I've been having trouble improving in my writing, and frankly Im not sure how to go about doing that, even. It's easy to see what I like about another person's writing, but hard to pinpoint exactly why...

THIS IS NOT WEIRD TO ASK. It is, in fact, the most important question EVER.

How to Read Like a Writer

Re-read. If you get halfway into a chapter and think, Wow this chapter is super creepy–I wonder how they did that. Or get to the end of a book and think, I feel the poignancy of the fragility of human life in an inherently volatile economic system–I wonder how the writer made me feel that way… Go back and re-read that shit.

Read slowly. When you read like a reader, you read pretty fast. When you go in for your second, or third, or fourth re-read of a passage, chapter, or book that you want to know more about, read it slowly. Really. Slowly.

Read for technique, not content. Readers read for content (”In this paragraph, Damien gave Harold a classified envelope.”). Writers read for technique. (”In this paragraph, the writer made me feel curious about the contents of the envelope by giving sensory details about its appearance and weight.”)

Ask the right questions. They usually start with HOW: How did the writer make me feel? How did they accomplish that?

Read small. Did a chapter make you feel sad? Find out WHERE EXACTLY. What paragraph, sentence, or WORD did it for you? Was it a physical detail? A line of dialogue? A well-placed piece of punctuation? Stories are made of words and sentences. Narrow it down.

Practice. Reading like a writer is a skill that takes time to develop. Over time, you’ll get better at it!

How about y’all? Anything to add to this list? I made it off the top of my head so I’m sure I’m forgetting something. What have been your experiences with learning to read like a writer?

Hope this helps!

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The Literary Architect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler. For more writing help, check out my Free Resource Library or get The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers. xoxo

reblog this with what you’re proud of accomplishing this year in the tags! (this does NOT mean work-related!!! this can be personal growth!! relationship growth!!! a hobby you started!!! mental health challenges you faced and are working on!!)

In honor of finally losing my winning streak and getting COVID for the first time ever:

I tried to write a novel. Not once. Not twice. But about 12 times. Here's how that would play out: 1. I sit down and knock out 10 pages 2. I share it with someone 3. They say "It's goooood" like it's not good 4. I ask for critical feedback 5. They say, "Well....the plot just moves so quickly. So much happens in the first few pages it doesn't feel natural." So I'd write more drafts. I'd try to stretch out the story. I would add dialogue that I tried to make interesting but thought was boring. I would try including environment and character descriptions that felt unnecessary, (why not just let people imagine what they want?) Anyways, I gave up trying to write because in my mind, I wasn't a fiction writer. Maybe I could write a phonebook or something. But then I made a fiction podcast, and I waited for the same feedback about the fast moving plot, but guess what??? Podcasts aren't novels. The thing that made my novels suck became one of the things that made Desert Skies work. I've received some criticism since the show started, but one thing I don't receive regular complaints about is being overly-descriptive or longwinded. In fact, the opposite. It moves fast enough that it keeps peoples attention. I always felt I had a knack for telling stories but spent years beating myself up because I couldn't put those stories into novel form. The problem wasn't me. The problem was the tool I was trying to use. All that to say: If, in your innermost parts you may know that you're a storyteller but you just can't write a book, don't give up right away. You can always do things to get better and there's a lot of good resources. But if you do that for a while and novel writing just isn't your thing, try making a podcast, or creating a comic, or a poem, or a play, or a tv script. You might know you're an artist but suck at painting. Try making a glass mosaic, or miniatures, or try charcoal portraits, or embroider or collage. You might know you're a singer, but opera just isn't working out. Why not yodel? I could keep listing out examples, but the point is this. Trust your intuitions when it comes to your creative abilities, but don't inhibit yourself by becoming dogmatic about which medium you can use to express that creativity. Don't be afraid to try something new. Don't be afraid to make something new. You might just find the art form that fits the gift you knew you always had, and what it is might surprise you

It feels mean spirited to bring it up in the thread but there’s a post that circulates about how ppl underestimate the labour costs of bespoke clothing when offering to purchase it from seamster hobbyist friends, which is generally good and approvable in its place aside from the many replies of the form “Karl Marx is rolling in his grave”. If your take away from Marx is that individual artisans need to be paid in exact proportion to their labour and this is what economic justice looks like, you are either very bad at reading or getting your understanding entirely thru posts

i wrote a sequel to casablanca (1942)!

what the future brings is a 23k word fanfic about rick, ilsa & victor meeting each other again in america after the war. check it out if you’re into that sort of thing!

preview under the cut!

In the end, Rick arrives in America like it’s nothing.

A normal ship on a normal afternoon, no extra fuss about his papers or luggage or unfriendly face as he disembarks with the other passengers. It’s as relieving as it is infuriating.

After all of that. After everything. After he tried so hard to get back, after he swore he’d never step foot in his home country again. After Casablanca, after Brazzaville, after the blood and sweat and tears and god, the fucking sand in his eyes. 

He spent almost as long trying to secure a visa as he did killing Nazis. If the world was going to thank him for his service over the last few years of the war, it would’ve been in the form of easy travel to America, so he knows he’ll never get any thanks at all. Which is fine, he supposes. He didn’t do it for the world. And don’t ask him what he did do it for; it doesn’t matter. 

In any case, it’s the summer of 1949 and Richard Blaine is standing on a pier in New York City, the place he once called home, a very long time ago. And he has never felt more alone.

truly fascinating how threatened Perrin is by Tay

they have two direct interactions and an indirect one and in all three Perrin stakes his claim on Mon and is dismissive of Tay. even though it's not a marriage of love. there's no emotional bond threatened, probably not even a legal or social one or they would have divorced years ago. but Tay clearly draws something out of Perrin, something that makes him flash "back off she's my wife" in neon lights (as much as their culture full of euphemisms, nuance, and social composure allows anyway)

in episode 7, he literally interrupts them to take Mon away from what he assumes is a friendly chat about their childhood days

and as they walk away, he puts his hand on Mon's back and waist, very clearly visible to Tay. and it's noteworthy for two reasons: 1. from what we see of Chandrilans, at least high society ones, they are very restrained with their affections, especially in public. 2. it's the only sign of physical affection we see between Mon and Perrin in the entire season (edit: oops no, he touches her arm in ep 8 when talking at the window, point still stands, the affection is for show, especially towards Tay). in a loving couple, it's sweet and affectionate, here it's possessive. it's a clear reminder to Tay that she is Perrin's wife.

as I mentioned in my previous post about Mon and Perrin, I do believe there was a time when this kind of physical affection and tenderness between them would have been common. but not anymore at this stage when we meet them, especially considering Mon has just told Tay that her own husband is not to be trusted, and has indirectly called him a useless irritation (without his knowledge).

in episode 8, he dismisses Tay; how prompt he his, he's not on the menu that night, Perrin knows Mon's program for the night and is dismissive of her work.

but especially, when he walks away, he walks between Mon and Tay, not around them. there was more space between Mon and the bar, but he walks between them, forces himself between them. he's just all but ridiculed Mon's work and Tay's presence in their home, and he imposes himself between them rather than walking behind Mon.

and finally in episode 9, he dismisses Tay as her old boyfriend and has clearly told Leida about him to raise her suspicions and dislike of Tay. and for now, we don't know if Mon was honest when she said he was just a childhood friend, or if she was lying (whether consciously because they actually were together, or unconsciously because she might have locked those feelings for Tay away even as a teenager because she always knew they could never be together)

it's truly interesting to see that by all intents and purposes, Mon is the head of that family, she is the one who sets the rules, and Perrin is happy to follow, bask in the riches, and let her do her thing. she speaks to countless people without his interruption, he doesn't even mind negatively pointing out the traditionality of an arranged marriage at 15 to two relative strangers.

but when Mon is with Tay, he feels the need to step up and claim her as his, to literally step in between her and Tay. because he clearly sees something in his wife he's probably never seen with anyone else, least of all him, and something he's seen since before he and Mon were married, something that has been a crack in the already very shaky foundations of their marriage. he sees her smiling genuinely, sees her actually being happy just from Tay's presence.

it probably calls back all those fears and insecurities of getting trapped into a loveless arranged marriage at 15, marrying a girl he doesn't love and who doesn't love him (but who he's already seen love someone else), marrying the girl who will become their planet's senator. and he probably fears that what little stability they have left in their marriage will be destroyed further if she rekindles that lifelong friendship with Tay.

Out of curiosity rb and put in the tags how many fics come up when you type your last name into ao3. Apparently even though my last name is uncommon there's like 500