when I see something dated 2019 I think “oh that’s not too long ago” and then I remember that 2019 was not only five years ago but those five years have somehow contained several lifetimes

people misunderstand what ‘gifted kid’ actually means but it’s ok it’s fine it’s cool it’s good

he is so gentle

benjamin tallmadge is such a genuinely neurotic control freak it’s awesome

A lot of times, when people talk about mad scientists, they mean medical or biology or chemistry, sometimes you'll have a physicist or mathematician or even an engineer... But let's not forget about the hard working mad science geologists who help people scout out and build their "evil lair in a volcano" while furthering their own plot to rid the world of their competition by using their own egos against them. Meanwhile they're bending the secrets of the earth to their will, making new and strange crystalline mineral structures, and dialing in the frequency of their earthquake generators to only destroy what they're aiming at. They deserve attention too!

“Use your gifts and your talents to greatest possible effect while you can. Spread joy wherever possible. Laugh at jokes. Tell jokes. Make puns and bugger the embuggerances. Read books. Read my books. You might like them. You might find something else you like even more than them. Look for these things in life.

Question authority. Champion good causes. Speak out against injustice. Do not tolerate bullies or bigots or racists or anti-intellectuals or the narrow-minded. Use your education to challenge them. Broaden their perspectives. Make the world you interface with a happier place.

These are your choices. Choices you have been fortunate to have been given, so don’t waste them while you have them. Don’t look back in years to come and wish you had grasped a fleeting opportunity. Grasp it now with both hands, Live. Strive. Love.”

from A Little Advice for Life taken from ‘Terry Pratchett: from birth to death, a writer.’

—Sir Terry Pratchett; April 28, 1948 – March 12, 2015

One of the greatest compliments I've ever received is that I resemble Sam Vimes.

Mind how you go.

7.3 K into a story and now I realize "this needs to be from the other person's POV"

*makes a cup of tea for fortitude*

I just saw somewhere you recommend writing 300 words a day. I can't imagine how to do that, I will manage 50-100 at most and I will edit endlessly. Do you continuously add to the story without returning to the previous chapters and keep almost everything as it first occurred to you? Is it a matter of practice to become more productive and require less editing? I think I enjoy playing around with details though, is that a bad habit to shed?

Write whatever works for you. I wrote Coraline at 50 words a day because that was the time I had. I wrote American Gods trying for 2,000 words a day (and often failing) because it needed to be a thick book and at 50 words a day I'd still be writing it.

The James

He escaped his Bonds

me, quietly whispering to the ao3 page of an author who doesn’t even know I exist: I am obsessed with you

What Resembles the Grave but Isn’t

by Anne Boyer

Always falling into a hole, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of the hole which is not the grave, falling into a hole again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of that hole, falling into another one; sometimes falling into a hole within a hole, or many holes within holes, getting out of them one after the other, then falling again, saying “this is not your grave, get out of the hole”; sometimes being pushed, saying “you can not push me into this hole, it is not my grave,” and getting out defiantly, then falling into a hole again without any pushing; sometimes falling into a set of holes whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often falling into this set of structural and impersonal holes; sometimes falling into holes with other people, with other people, saying “this is not our mass grave, get out of this hole,” all together getting out of the hole together, hands and legs and arms and human ladders of each other to get out of the hole that is not the mass grave but that will only be gotten out of together; sometimes the willful-falling into a hole which is not the grave because it is easier than not falling into a hole really, but then once in it, realizing it is not the grave, getting out of the hole eventually; sometimes falling into a hole and languishing there for days, weeks, months, years, because while not the grave very difficult, still, to climb out of and you know after this hole there’s just another and another; sometimes surveying the landscape of holes and wishing for a high quality final hole; sometimes thinking of who has fallen into holes which are not graves but might be better if they were; sometimes too ardently contemplating the final hole while trying to avoid the provisional ones; sometimes dutifully falling and getting out, with perfect fortitude, saying “look at the skill and spirit with which I rise from that which resembles the grave but isn’t!”

I'm 95% I know the answer to this but in a flash of insecurity I am asking anyway

y'all wouldn't mind if a tallster story was literally just consecutive scenes of them having way too much dialogue with each other in a self-indulgently slow paced series of events

like. abandoning all sense of smooth flow just. talking.

The burning question about "homesteading tradwive influencer vs. actual medieval farmwife" wouldn't be about who would win, but what would be the final straw that would make Kathrynn - who got married at 21, doesn't know what a chemical is, and who would have sent her children to school if she had had the chance - finally decide to beat the ever-loving shit out of Kathrynn, who got married at 21, doesn't understand what a chemical is and can't spell for shit, but still thinks she can homeschool her kids.

It wouldn't be over feminist issues. Medieval Kathrynn has no concept of "women's right to vote" - it's not like her husband has the right to vote in government matters either. It would probably be about religion. Medieval Kathrynn has no idea what "catholism" is, but she heard Modern Kathrynn talk shit about the saints and decides to toss aside the goat she was castrating and go "that's it, I'm beating your ass."