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writing-with-olive · 3 years

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Shelving a WIP

(Alt title: I just shelved a WIP I've been working on for almost three years, and I learned some valuable things from the process so ima share them).

Disclaimer that I'm a writer that works on pretty much one WIP at any given time, and if it's two, one of the WIPs are going to be in the brainstorming/worldbuilding stages at a maximum. The things I've learned are from that perspective, and there might be aspects that are different if you have multiple WIPs, some of them more dormant than others.

1 - It's gonna be okay.

I'm starting out with this one because I've always found it terrifying when I see other people shelving their work, because if the people who have experience are doing it, I might do this, and how could I ever give up on this book baby I'm putting so much time and effort and love into? And yeah. That's scary. But once you've outgrown a work, sometimes the best thing you can do is to move onto new things. It doesn't negate all the hard work you've put in, and it certainly doesn't make you a faker. Remember - almost everyone who's established themselves as an author has shelved works, and they've still made it.

(how to shelve a project, and more detailed stuff below the cut)

2 - How to know when it's time to shelve a WIP

This can vary a lot, but there's three major reasons that have occurred with the works I've shelved (three, all of which I'd worked on for at least six months, many more that had shorter life spans).

The first is a lack of interest. If working on a WIP starts to consistently feel like a chore, and I'm having a harder and harder time feeling for the characters and the world, something's not right. Sometimes this can come from burnout from other aspects of life, but sometimes it's just that I lost passion in the work. Writing's supposed to be fun, and once it's not, it's time to figure out what's up, and sometimes that means trying something new.

Another reason is just outgrowing a work. As I'm writing, the concepts and the story start to feel more juvenile. Some of this can be fixed with editing, but some of it’s baked into the bones of the story. Working it out would mean completely changing the story. Eventually continuing a work feels like being trapped in a younger version of yourself rather than pushing forward.

The final reason (and it can be kinda devastating so I have a section on this farther down) is the realization that a story is not going to help you achieve your writing goals, or worse, will even hinder them. This one won't be as applicable to everyone as the other two as everyone's writing goals vary, but if your goal is to eventually get published/make a job as an author, you may be confronted with this.

3 - How to shelve a work if you've lost interest or outgrown it

The thing about both of these scenarios is that it's a slow progression. If you've identified that you're declining in your attachment to it, you're probably approaching the ability to set it aside and move onto other projects.

One of the first steps is evaluate what is making you stick with it. If you haven't yet shelved it, there's bound to be a reason. Sometimes it's one that holds a lot of merit, and may constitute just taking a break, or in some cases pushing through. Other times, it's not really a great reason, and coming to terms with that is an emotional step to put the work aside.

If you can't bring yourself to move on because it feels like quitting, even though it feels like it's the best decision, find a goal to work toward. That goal will be something much smaller than publishing the work, but it will still help give a sense of completeness. For example, finishing the draft, or even just the act you're on. Sometimes, seeing an end point can be detaching enough that you just... shelve it. Other times, you get to the end point, and decide: is this the end for the WIP, or have I regained enough interest that I actually want to go farther? Both are equally good decisions.

I have found that it's often like a sudden decision that comes after a long period of questioning. I might go for weeks thinking should I or should I not? Over and over and over. Then one day, I just decide to stop working on it, and that's that. It's just the moment when the last of my active emotional attachment finally dissolves.

4 - How to shelve a work when you realize it's not going to help you achieve your goals

This was the situation I was in when I shelved my no-longer-current WIP, which I intended to traditionally publish. It was a sort of assassin-y story and there were elements of it that were loosely based off of Natasha Romanoff's story (Marvel), though not enough by any stretch that it could be considered fanfic. Then the Black Widow movie came out, and apparently Marvel had the exact same idea I had, and suddenly, it looked like my story was a huge rip-off of that one. As it was, huge swaths of the story overlapped. All of this meant that not only was publishing my WIP a long shot because it was a YA sci-fi, but also it was competing with the mega-company that is Marvel/Disney. The chances of even getting an agent plummeted, and then there was the fact that if I did get one, and I got published, I would be basically throwing away my debut because of diminishing returns, and because anyone who read my book would also be in the target audience for Marvel, and would almost certainly see the similarities and write my story off for a rip-off. Not a great situation to be in.

So the first thing to do? Give yourself permission to feel all the big emotions that come with this kind of heartbreak. It hurts really bad, and it's okay to experience that.

Next thing. Evaluate. Is this it for the story, or is there anything else you can do with it? I can't publish it as a book, but there's nothing stopping me from posting it online and still sharing it with people.

Figure out what the end point is going to be. It could be finishing the story even though it doesn't accomplish what you originally set out to do (though this is something to do if it will genuinely bring you joy, not because you feel like it's something you owe). It could be doing something like the other scenario and finding a more artificial "finish point" to still get a sense of closure and accomplishment from the WIP.

5 - The freedom that comes from shelving a work

The obvious thing is that if you weren't enjoying what you weren't enjoying what you were writing before, you're done!

Shelving a work is an open space to work on whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, you can do it. The starting stages of a WIP are always the most exhilarating, and this is where we all return whenever we pick up a new project.

Another thing. No matter what, you've learned something new over the course of your last project. Maybe it was a ton (that was the case for me - I am a completely different writer than I was before I started it), maybe it was one aspect of character or structure or voice. But you get to go into your next project with that new knowledge.

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rocker-by-heart · 4 years

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I know I said I was gonna bounce until TROS,

but I just need to express my last minute theories(in case I’m actually right so can have proof and brag about it).

(i’m drafting this in google docs btw jus so u kno lol)

SO before we get in to anything, I should say that I have not read any leaks or things like that. I’ve only watched the things officially put out by Star Wars/Lucasfilm whatever. I also come from the Reylo/Bendemtion part of the fandom, so that’s the mindset I’m in. Now on with the theories:

Now originally I was of the opinion that Rey was nobody and I liked that and that was okay, and I didn’t want them to retcon it or anything, HOWEVER my mind has slightly changed. Kind of. Not really. Allow me to explain.

The whole thing in TLJ is that we see that situation from Rey’s point of view. Rey believes that the people who left her on Jakku for drinking money and died were her parents. And they may very well be the people who raised her up until that point, ergo her parents, but they MIGHT not be her actual bio parents. And Kylo sees this in her mind and that’s why he thinks he knows the truth. Because essentially it IS the truth. And that is why, if Rey turns out to be SOMEONE in TROS, I don’t see it as retconning or anything like that. They will still honor what Rian did(and maybe planned) without undercutting it. Now don’t get me wrong, in no way do I think she is a Skywalker or a Solo, or even a Kenobi or a Palpatine(well her being a Palps is by this point the most likely of those, but ya kno). Now is the time for me to put my tinfoil tiara on because I think that it is very probable that Rey is

a clone

AND/OR a sleeper agent.

The reason I think this is because the very first thing I thought, before dismissing it as symbolism, in the cave scene when Rey saw her reflections was that holy shit is she a clone!? (later i was glad that i wasn’t the only one who thought that bc of all the theory videos floating around). I think that it might have been part of Palpy’s contingency plan to restart clone production, and especially how to clone someone force sensitive(that might be why the cloning guy from Mandolorian wants Baby Yoda’s dna or whatever), and he might have succeeded and Rey just happens to a random one of the clones, maybe she was misplaced, or planted on Jakku, who knows. I don’t think she is the clone template, but she might be. Then the dark Rey we’ve seen in the trailers will probably be one of the other clones. (or it could totally just be a vision and i’m just full of bs)

OR if she is a sleeper agent she might have been placed on Jakku for some reason, maybe her memories are real, maybe they are planted, who knows. Palps has some kind of trigger words or something to either wake her up, or put her under a Winter Soldier type like spell(who is the real Rey?).

The reason I kind of came back to these theories was because of the latest TV spots as of the 14th of December.

But then again she could have been created somehow by the force to meet the darkness in Kylo OR if any of the above, or her being a Palpy is true, she might have been created by the dark(Palps maybe somehow) to meet Ben’s light, because Ben was conceived by light essentially, but then manipulated. Who knows, I certainly don’t.

This is basically a long way of saying I am now in the mindset that I don’t NEED Rey to be a nobody(everyone is somebody) just not a Skywalker or Solo, or even a Kenobi(though I like that headcanon the best), but it is also fine if she is.

(Also out of every brunette lady in Star Wars the internet have speculated being Rey’s mom I think Qi’ra is most likely. But I don’t really think she is.)

(Also, also, Rey got her name/made her name up from the helmet she had on Jakku.)

NOW onto some other stuff that could totally be separate from everything above. Theories and wishful thinking:

What’s going on with C-3PO is that he is getting his pre-end-of-ROTS memories back, sacrificing his memories after that, and that helps with something, perhaps telling Anakin’s true story to Ben (R2-D2 already knowing all of it kinda blows holes in this, BUT maybe C-3PO wouldn’t believe him or something and we need him to articulate to the audience idk.)

We’re going on a Horcrux hunt. That’s it.

Anakin force ghost DEFINITELY. (and maybe even a whole army of former jedi force ghosts helping to save the day idk, but Ani is DEF showing up or else i will sue)

(Anakin hearing Padme’s voice, him turning his head and smiling knowing his love is there for him in the cosmic force)

Ben finishing what his grandfather started(aka defeating Palpy) (also palpy being back doesn’t undercut anakin’s redemption bc it’s the thought that counts even tho palpy didn’t disappear)

If Leia dies(she might not, but probably will), it is from space radiation and she falls asleep peacefully, Connix(Billie) holding her hand because everyone else is off world. (ugh sob)

(Anakin being there with her omg??)

Speaking of Connix she will at LEAST have as big of a role in this as she did in TLJ if not larger. Please.

Chewie will NOT die.

Nor will the Falcon.

In the space battle(from the scene where we can see the Ghost and maybe the Colossus) we see glimpses from inside the ships(as we usually do), one of them being Hera Syndulla(the actual best pilot in the galaxy) going “phoenix leader standing by” and Jacen is with her casually using the force to grab stuff and shit PLEASE.

same goes for Kaz and co. i guess but i don’t care as much about them sorry.

(Ahsoka. maybe. played by Rosario Dawson please. Catching a glimpse of force ghost Ani at the end celebration and he’s smiling at her being proud BC THEY HAVE THE BEST MOST BEAUTIFUL MOST HEARTBREAKING RELATIONSHIP IN ALL OF STAR WARS sorry)

Okay so Harrison won’t show up, BUT ALDEN MIGHT.

AKA flashbacks baby.

Force healing.

The fact that the TITLE is The Rise of Skywalker can’t POSSIBLY mean the end of the Skywalker line, ergo Reylo babies. I don’t make the rules.

Okay now I’m going dark, see you suckers after TROS.

#star wars #the rise of skywalker #reylo #tros #episode ix #theory #speaking of ahsoka #when i tell u i cried during her and vader's fight in rebels #u should have seen the waterworks #mkay i'll be back #bye

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marauders70s · 7 years

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I love the title thingy! How's this as a title: Only Tonight

so i’ve been getting a lot of anon requests which is totally fine but a) I want to be able to tag you to make sure you’ll see it! b) if people are going to mock you for your interests/ships then hex them with bats for bogeys and c) i somehow always think of every anon as the same person. i think it’s the icon. it’s so weird.

also you didn’t pick a pairing so everyone gets to sail on my litle proudly captained fredmione ship for this one

Title: Only TonightPairing: Fred Weasley & Hermione GrangerSummary: The dream of what might have been was as vivid as waking.

“You don’t have to help wash up,” Hermione said to her brother-in-law exasperatedly.

“It’s alright, really,” George assured her. “I think Angie is out back playing with Ron and Freddy. He’s really making his Mum proud. Going to be a first rate Chaser.”

“And Roxy?” asked Hermione with a smile, spelling the drying dishes to their cupboards.

“Nah, she’s more of a Beater, like me,” said George in pride. He glanced over his shoulder up the stairs where there were giggling sounds of children distinctly not sleeping. “What about Hugo?”

“Rose and Hugo have little chance of not ending up in quidditch,” said Hermione in exasperation. “More than half the family is already on broomsticks before they can walk. But it’s sweet of Roxy to try to help Ron get them to bed.”

“She likes babies,” shrugged George. “And since Hugo was born in February like her, she thinks of him as her special cousin.”

“Well he is very cute,” Hermione admitted in spite of herself.

“And Rose is going to be a heartbreaker,” said George easily. At five, Rose already had two girlfriends and three boyfriends in her kindergarten class.

“Not if she’s anything like her parents,” laughed Hermione. “One relationship apiece? Both bad for different reasons.”

“You had other chances,” said George offhandedly, and Hermione snorted into her mug of hot tea she had let been steeping on the windowsill in front of the kitchen sink.

“You’re sweet,” she told George, making a face. “But I’m no great beauty, and I know that. I think Ron and I were bound to end up together eventually.”

“Maybe,” said George, but this time with a little more evasive offhandedness that sparked Hermione’s interest.

“Why,” she teased. “Did you know someone? Lee maybe?”

George cracked a wry grin. “No, of course not.”

“Not Angelina?” and Hermione was really enjoying herself, pretending to fan the blush in her cheeks. “I don’t know if the world was ready for-”

“It was Fred.”

Hermione stopped short, her breath catching. George so rarely spoke of his twin, just the fact he was mentioning his name aloud was shocking. Hermione shook her head, setting down her mug sharply.

“Don’t be silly,” she said briskly, trying to be as efficient and sensible as possible to keep George from spiraling as he sometimes did when they talked of Fred. He hadn’t suffered heartbreak at the loss of his twin, he had suffered breaking, period. Part of George would always be absent, always dark, always in shadow. It was up to the Weasley family - and its numerous in laws - to keep the darkness at bay before he could get too far into something.

“I’m not being silly,” George was quiet, but didn’t seem to have that manic, desperate edge they all watched for vigilantly. “He really did like you. Loved you, even.”

“Fred?” Hermione asked flatly, trying to make sure they were talking about the same person.

George nodded.

“No he didn’t,” said Hermione, and she knew it was useless to argue with George, his heart, his soul. But it was just so incredibly impossible that -

“He did. It started in your fourth year. Just a comment here and there.”

Hermione was shaking her head, smiling stupidly, denying it all, but George persisted.

“Ron was hanging out with us, talking about you all the time. Drove Fred batty. He and Ron used to get in fights about imagined slights Ron thought you were taking Harry’s side against him, and of course Fred and I liked Harry so Fred started arguing for you, saying Ron was bonkers about the whole thing. I think it sort of went from there.”

Hermione only stared at him, eyes wide but mouth shut in disbelief.

George continued on, regardless. “But fifth year I thought even you’d notice.”

“What?” asked Hermione faintly.

“That punching telescope? Dabbing cream on your eye? He was head over heels by summertime in Grimmauld Place. Always volunteering to clean with you. Fred. My brother. Cleaning. We avoided our Mum making us clean so much growing up we developed a spell to shove everything into a closet if she came in.”

“No…” said Hermione, but her voice was doubtful.

“And the teasing?” George was incredulous. “Teasing you so badly when we were testing for the shop with the First Years? I admit now, that was well bad, but we didn’t have the real money for focus groups. And Fred just loved when you tried to tell us off. He’d live for it. Sometimes I think he’d wait to start the testing until you were around.”

Hermione’s thoughts were racing, rearranging memory with the tidbit of knowledge George had given her and the years of experience. She sank into a chair, pulling her tea mug closer to her, but not picking it up. The steam was comforting on the underside of her chin. “He can’t have,” she whispered, and she didn’t know why this was such a revelation to her. “He thought I was annoying.”

“Sure,” shrugged George. “When you were twelve. Then you were only Ron’s friend. But you know Mum. Knitting you a Christmas sweater and making you an Easter basket…you sort of became permanent, all the time. None of our friends ever did that.”

Hermione blushed, realizing that George was right. None of Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins, or even Ginny’s friends had been adopted by Mrs. Weasley the way she and Harry had been.

“Did he really like me?” Hermione asked, her voice smaller than she liked it, “Or was it just a crush?” She didn’t know why that mattered. Either would have been fine. Something not realistic. Not going to happen.

“I think he really loved you,” said George. “Or he would have, if you would have let him.”

Hermione felt hot tears on her face, and for the first time, it was George holding her arm tightly over a mug of tea, while she mourned for their brother.

“Hermione?” and it was Ron’s voice floating down the stairs. “Have you seen Bun-Bun? Rose says she can’t sleep without him!”

Hermione quickly stood up, brushing tears away and excusing herself from George, grateful for the menial task of looking for her daughter’s stuffed rabbit to take her mind off of all she had learned.

***

She couldn’t sleep. Not even after Ron had dropped off, exhausted at wrangling Hugo and Rose into bed. Their goodnights to their niece and nephew had been brief; they would see them both in the morning, most likely. Or at least this week at Saturday family dinners with Molly.

She turned over again, forcing her eyes shut. She was loathe to take a sleeping draft lest she miss Hugo crying. Ron had even let her buy a muggle baby monitor, though she usually caught his stirring with her sharp ears even before the radio did.

A heavy, sleepy hand fell on her hip. Ron stirred awake slightly. “Can’t sleep?” he asked drowsily.

“Sorry, love,” said Hermione at once. “I can go out on the couch.”

“No,” yawned Ron. “I thought you’d want to-”

Hermione almost said no, but thought better of it. It might relax her and help her sleep, after all. She had a strange creeping feeling she should never tell Ron what George had said. He might develop some sort of complex over it.

“Sure,” she said instead, turning into his arms and letting him kiss her.

Ron was half asleep, but he did the job properly. Hermione felt her face flaming in the darkness, grateful that Ron was no legilimens, when she thought of a different red head down between her legs, this one grinning and teasing as she gasped, instead of methodical, knowledgable, sleepy but happy.

“Thank you,” she said, when Ron rolled over, stretching his arms up above his head like a starfish. She knew he always slept his deepest, most comfortable sleeps like this, and he didn’t even answer before he was dead into one.

Hermione lay for a while in the afterglow, hoping that sleep would creep up on her, but instead her mind only furiously worked over old memories, thinking of the differences that could have happened. If in Grimmauld Place, that summer of anger, he had just acknowledged it once. Their sneaking around old portraits and Order Meetings could have been very different indeed. His messages on the radio horcrux hunting could have been for her. And if he had -

If he had, she would have asked Fred to the Chamber of Secrets. He wouldn’t have been there to greet Percy. He could have kissed her in front of Ron freeing the house elves. Ron would have been okay with it somehow…

Hermione realized she had drifted into half a daydream and half a waking dream when the baby monitor crackled with Hugo’s cry.

Ron didn’t stir, and Hermione was grateful this once for his insensibility. She did not club him with a pillow for his turn, but gratefully rolled out of bed to get her son, happy for the excuse not to toss and turn.

“There we go,” Hermione said to Hugo, pulling him from his crib and crossing to the rocking chair. She put him to her breast and he began suckling at once as she set a steady swooping motion with one idle foot, tipping her head back and continuing the thoughts.

“They’re at it again,” said Fred morosely to his audience gathered around the extendable ears.

“Again?” asked Ginny scathingly.

“Just ignore them Gin,” said George. “Percy can’t help that he was born a bastard.”

“George,” Hermione scolded, but without heart. What was her place to correct siblings?

“Come on,” said Ron moodily, feeling the echoes of the screams up the stairs. “If they don’t can it soon they’ll wake the kraken.”

He meant the painting of Sirius’ mother, and the others drew back, grimacing.

“Fancy a game of chess?” Ron asked Hermione, but without hope.

“I’ll play you,” said George, resigned.

“I’ll play him,” said a new voice, and Ginny threw herself down the stairs in a rush to get to him.

“Charlie!” she whisper-screamed. “You’re here!”

“And don’t want to interrupt,” her brother grimaced, indicating the sunken kitchen door with their parents behind it. “Plus, Ron’s getting too cocky at chess. Needs a few pegs down.”

“Will you tell us about what’s happening in Romania?” Ginny demanded, and Charlie nodded.

“Of course.”

“Think you can play gobstones with one hand and chess with another?” George asked slyly.

Charlie grinned. “A sickle says I can.”

Hermione-in-the-dream felt the rest of the memory play out. It was before she and Ron had gotten their prefect letters. Before Harry had arrived. Fred had gone with George and the rest of his siblings, as usual, and Hermione had gone up to the room she shared with Ginny and read a book, trying not to feel excluded. And if she had stayed, she would have only felt she were intruding.

But now.

“Want to see what I’ve done up on the roof?” Fred asked her cheekily - another memory, but not the same day.

Hermione shrugged.

“Beats sitting around,” Fred challenged, and Hermione nodded.

“Fine. Sure.”

Fred lead the way up the endless tight staircase. The Black Manse was five stories not counting the basement. Each floor only had three or four rooms in a tight square around the staircase balustrade. The top of the Manse was a flat rooftop for a garden or a sitting area. But of course, like the rest of the house, it was a complete decrepit trash receptacle full of rusting parts of things, old nails, broken potion bottles, a broken laundry line, and other molding and odorous things. No one liked to spend time up there if they could help it, not the least of which was the chance of passing too high above the boundary spell to keep 12 Grimmauld Place hidden. There wasn’t even quidditch or broom flying to pass the time.

“Ta-da,” announced Fred, showing her the exact same trash heap she had seen before.

“You’ve done a lovely job with it,” she said scathingly.

“No, that’s not it,” said Fred, grinning at her irritation. “This is!” And he pulled two old battered golf clubs from behind the door to the stairwell. They were slightly bent, and as rusted and dented as everything else.

“New sport?” she asked sweetly.

“Watch,” said Fred, lining up a half broken bottle. He took a huge swing, and launched the shower of glass over the edge of the building and onto the street. It disappeared halfway down in the barrier spell.

Hermione moved closer, impressed. “That’s one way to clear rubbish.”

“It’s incredibly satisfying,” said Fred, not looking at her. He was still shading his brown eyes, as if looking at an impressive long shot on the green, but really watching the thick haze of South London crowding the power lines across the way.

“Line me up,” said Hermione at once, and Fred gave her an old dented tin can, with something black congealing out of the mold on its side. Hermione made a disgusted face, wound up the golf club, and thwacked it satisfyingly against the can, sending it and its contents spiraling everywhere before plunking over the edge.

“You’ve hit it too high,” said Fred, coming over and giving her another one. He took the club from behind - how had she not seen this in her memory - before carefully tapping the top of a new piece of metal with the club face.

“Nice and low. Really sweep it out of here. Like my mother with a broom.”

Hermione’s face split into a grin as she drew back. It was so rare to smile in Grimmauld Place. The whole miasma of it grew into the bones until everyone was curt and skittish and angry.

“You’ve cut up your hands,” said Fred after Hermione sent another projectile launching into the nothingness around the rooftop.

Hermione looked down at her hands. “Oh, no,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. “It was Hedwig.”

“Harry’s owl?” asked Fred, astonished.

Hermione nodded. “He’s really…really angry, being all by himself.”

“Probably a party compared to here,” Fred muttered.

Hermione had never seen Fred anything but jocular. He was always trying to get everyone else to laugh. She hadn’t realized it was his way of coping. That he never was laughing. Not really.

“It’s been a hard summer,” she sympathized.

“You only got here last week,” Fred said bitterly, and then looked furious with himself. “Not that we’re not-”

“I know,” said Hermione, and this time she lined up the trash for both of them. In tandem, they swung and launched the garbage over the roofline. “That is satisfying,” she added, and Fred looked gratified.

“We’ll be going back to school, anyway,” Fred continued as they rummaged for more things small enough to hit, stockpiling.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Hermione. “About making…an Order for ourselves.”

Fred perked up. “Yeah? With who?”

“I don’t know,” said Hermione self-consciously. “Me, and you. George and Ron. Harry, of course. Ginny.”

“So the people here?” asked Fred dryly.

Hermione blushed. “It was only an idea,” she muttered.

They both launched trash over the roof with the violence they could not bring against the house itself. As they swung, Hermione sensed Fred was putting much more of a Beater’s effort into it than she was. So much, in fact, that he was spattering himself with the backlash of bursting things apart with the force of it, swinging over and over and over.

“I think that’s enough,” said Hermione, pulling the club out of Fred’s hands. That hadn’t happened, she had only thought about it….

Fred was panting, brown eyes hard and angry. “I hate it here,” he said bitterly, all at once. The words came pouring out of him. “And we have to be good for Ginny. And we have to make Mum try to laugh or else she’ll always be crying. Even anger is better than…than…and George and I are in a stupid old bed that someone probably died in and there’s not even beds enough to have separate ones. And Bill and Charlie get to go out and do and we’re in our last year and we’re of age and we’re supposed to sit by and sleep in little beds and pretend it’s fine and-”

Hermione didn’t know how to stop him. She only leaned in and hugged him. It was strange. She and Fred had never been alone together so much. Usually Ron was there, or at least George.

Fred only breathed hard and angry and hot into the top of her hair, his arms finally going around her in return. His breath made her scalp tingle, and his nose came down to find the top of her head. He was shorter than Ron was. Ron would be able to fit Hermione under his chin, but Fred held her near his mouth, his panting not quite slowed, hot against the skin of her head as she stared at the place where his neck met his collarbones, watching the fluttering of his heartbeat in the summer sun.

“Hermione, I-” said Fred, drawing back. He looked embarrassed, and he flicked his eyes to the clubs where they had dropped them. He let go of her to get them and lean them against the brickwork.

“I get it,” she said, her voice full of compassion. “It’s stupid, and not fair. You’ll be eighteen in April and-”

“And you’re going to be sixteen next month,” said Fred in a strange voice.

Hermione was taken aback. She nodded tentatively. “September 19th.”

“You’re older than Ron.”

Hermione smiled a little, lopsided. “I got my letter to Hogwarts almost a year in advance. I had plenty of time to memorize my textbooks. Poor Harry got his only four weeks to wrap his head around being a wizard.”

Fred actually laughed, his eyes growing crinkly at the corners, though she wasn’t sure his mouth was smiling because for some reason she didn’t trust herself to look at it. Against her will, her eyes flicked to it, and his smile grew.

“We’re going to be a year apart for half a year,” said Fred, leaning against the masonry of the house, not ready to go back in the gloom.

Relaxing a bit, Hermione leaned beside him. “I know. Only eighteen months apart, actually.”

“I am awfully sorry about that punching telescope.”

Was it her, or did he seem closer than a few moments before when she had looked away?

She blushed, looking down. “It’s alright,” she said, though it had hurt, quite a bit.

“Let me see,” Fred commanded, tipping her chin up, and her blush grew at the touch of his fingers, though she didn’t know why.

“It looks better,” he said teasingly, his nose crinkling at her nervous swallow.

“Doesn’t hurt as much,” she managed, and his face grew serious.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, his other hand creeping up. “Let me make it up to you.”

She had plenty of time to pull away, but she was a deer in the headlights. He cupped her face gently, sweetly, the sun making her squint up at his freckled face as he descended on her slow and sure, making sure she had plenty of time to refuse.

The kiss lingered. Deepened. Until she felt it sparking through places she wasn’t sure she was ready for. Her mouth opened and -

“Good morning,” said Ron, self satisfied at her wide eyed astonishment. He had found her sleeping upright, nursing Hugo who had long since fallen back asleep.

“R-Ron,” Hermione stammered.

He grinned at her. “Breakfast is ready,” he announced. She could hear Rose at the kitchen table already. Everything seemed so confusing. She wasn’t sure if Rose was real. She had opened her eyes to see brown and seen blue instead.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked, seeing her blinking astonishment.

“I just…need to wake up,” she managed, flushing to her core. How could she even look at Ron after dreaming about being fifteen again?

“Don’t worry,” said Ron cheerfully, dragging her to the kitchen without noticing her upset. “I made coffee.”

Send me a made up AO3 title and i’ll write you a drabble based off of it!

#drabbles #follower fun #fredmione #m70s writes

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jeonfinite · 6 years

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end of the year fic meme

total number of completed stories: 5 total word count: 51225

Overall Thoughts Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I wrote way more than I predicted bc I never thought I’d produce fic at all, but I actually published a oneshot or chapter at least once a month since june. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? I would’ve never guessed I would become 100% certified jinkook trash this yr and would’ve laughed in your face if you told me otherwise lmao. I didn’t even know who jungkook was until feb!! in fact despite always having a soft spot for bts and following all of their music releases I was like actually ‘I don’t think I’ll ever truly stan them’ lmfao. my life is a joke. What’s your own favorite story of the year? forever yours. it’s basically everything I ever want to happen in a fic. seokjin as an academy award winning actor? jinkook writing a song together? jinkook going on cute dates and continually supporting the other as they fall deeper in love? ugh my heart. the idea is so dear to me and it’s my baby. and even tho bangtan disbanded in the fic, they all found their own success and they’re rly close friends. I fucking love the ending too omg. I did my best to make it rly gratifying and make up for all the stuff jungkook went through earlier. plus I love fics based on idol/band verse, canon/divergence/future fic and I liked weaving in canon elements to it. it makes it feel more real imo.

Did you take any writing risks this year? uh, not rly? other than writing and publishing my first fic ever. and I guess actually shading big hit/bang pd lmao. as far as I know of, no one has done that before? and multiple ppl have called me brave for doing so lol. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

to try to write longer fics I guess. there’s this 10k fic I’ve been planning forever but still haven’t gotten around to even tho I kept meaning to write it next lol.

From my past year of writing what was… My best story of this year: definitely forever yours. honestly sometimes I feel like it’s my peak lmfao. like I will never able to match some of those descriptions ever again. whenever I’m struggling to write something and I go back to it I’m like HOW DID I WRITE THIS?? and when ppl tell me I’ve made them cry and laugh omg. I almost don’t believe it. I don’t think any of my fics have elicited such a reaction and I think it’s the one that affected me most. I hurt my own non existent heart. My most popular story of this year: forever yours lmao. not only does it have the most hits/kudos/comment/bookmarks, but it’s the fic I most often see ppl reccing, screaming about, and quoting on twitter. I love it tho. pls continue screaming about it and @ me!! The story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: lights go on again. it’s gotten the least attention of all my fics so far. idk if it’s bc ppl are sick of me already or if I rly offended that many ppl by insulting their precious bang pd oppa lmao. also yo where all the jin stans at? I thought at least they’d appreciate its contents lmao.

but also rollin’ the deep bc I actually like that one a lot now and it’s the second least popular lol. but it’s on par with light me up and I expected that based on the content. ofc the fics with jin winning an oscar and shitting on the mother/son trope would gain the most traction so I’m not surprised. The most fun story to write:

us against the world! the idea of everyone hitting on jin and jungkook getting jealous was too good to pass up. I had so much fun writing taehyung’s scene omfg. I actually started it with it lmfao and it seems like most ppl agree. hoseok’s always makes me laugh and ngl I feel like a genius whenever I reread that fic lol. :’) definitely my peak humor and probably the funniest/crackiest thing I’ll ever write.

Story with single sweetest moment?

it’s a tie with forever yours’ birthday scene and light me up’s christmas decorations. but overall rollin’ the deep made me melt the most with how overwhelming sweet it was. I live for soft sweet jinkook doing grossly romantic things for each other ok. The story with the single sexiest moment:

jungkook wearing lingerie in light me up, definitely :x tho the smut scene in forever yours is infinitely better imo. I will unfortunately never able to write a smut scene that good again but I think it’s the intimacy of the moment and the way it’s written that makes it so special, hence why I like it so much. The most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

idk? me attempting smut even tho I’m terrible at it? quoting myself I actually said “writing sex is honestly so hard already I would never waste my time writing it just for the sake of it if it didn’t have any meaning” yet the smut in light me up was the first scene I started writing. I am a goddamn hypocrite lol. but it’s sth I thought I’d never be able to write bc a few years ago I would get so embarrassed by the idea and would want to throw myself off a cliff at the thought lol. The story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

none of them rly. I just write jinkook like I how see them. their interactions just come so naturally to me that it’s one of the easiest and most fun things to write in my fics. The hardest story to write: honestly… light me up. all my fics get rly hard to write one point and I always start off hating the first drafts bc they’re complete garbage but I fucking suffered the most writing that one. literally took fucking forever to wrangle the sex scene into what it was. it was hot ass fragmented mess that I had to slowly unravel and reorganize one sentence at a time. I didn’t even want to look at it bc it was so bad lol. and two of the most pivotal points; the lights and lingerie were awful at first so I struggled to make them good enough to rly stand out and to a standard I was pleased with. and transitioning the first scene into the second one where jinkook kiss under the snowfall and the ending were fucking hell too. you can ask kaleidotears, I was bitching to her the entire time lmao. albeit vaguely bc I didn’t want to spoil anything. I started a month in advance bc it usually takes me that long to produce something and as the date approached closer I was lowkey panicking and almost thought I wouldn’t make it lol. The biggest disappointment:

lights go on again. not only is the reception lackluster compared to my other fics, but it’s honestly the weakest thing I’ve written so far. I’m seriously considering orphaning it but idk :( The biggest surprise: idk. I was honestly fucking shellshocked when us against the world got over 1000 hits in less than 24 hrs tho. I never expected that kind of reaction, especially for my very first ever fic. I honestly thought no one would want to read my fics lol. but also when ppl say I’m their favorite or one of their favorite authors?? like in what in the hell. I consider myself an amateur bc I have never written consistently before in my life. I’m new to the whole fic writing scene. I’ve actually spent the majority of my life hating my writing lmao. or when ppl praise things I think I’m shit at lol. I also like rollin’ in the deep a lot more than I thought I would considering it was just a dumb fluff piece to satisfy my thirst. I wrote the first 1300 words in a waiting room and I was like I don’t have to make this perfect bc it’s stupid fluff but I legit melted writing it. oh and publishing the first chapter of forever yours in two weeks after my first fic. how in the hell did I ever write 9k that quickly I will unfortunately never able to do that again.

The most unintentionally telling story:

I’m not sure what this even means? a lot of myself does bleed into my stories I think. like even if the mood varies depending on the scene I feel like my voice carries through? they just sound like me and it’s something that can’t be repicated lol. like my fics have a shit ton of cussing which is part of it lmao. but also sometimes I give jinkook aspects of myself like seokjin doing aegyo and being clingy when drunk (which is actually real omfg I’m a genius sorry) and jungkook not realizing when other ppl like him. also by reading my fics you can tell which groups I stan, what foods I like, etc. and ofc when I start waxing poetic about their looks or voices or talents that’s all me lol. Highlights + Wrap-up Favorite Opening Line(s): “And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to… Kim Seokjin!” — forever yours; ch1 twenty four

The world is fucking taunting Jungkook.— forever yours; ch2 fiction

Jungkook feels sick. Bile mounts up his throat; it tastes like bitterness, hurt, betrayal, anger, resentment, and heartbreak, flowing through him in chaotic discord. His voice breaks underneath the staggering weight. — forever yours; ch3 smile, again

they’re all from forever yours lmao. the first one is for very obvious reasons but the other two I find the most riveting. I tend to start my fics with dialogue or with “seokjin/jungkook …” bc I’m so creative lol Favorite Closing Line(s): they lose themselves in each other until the world fades till there’s nothing but seokjin and jungkook, just their mouths and bodies and hearts uniting into one against the world. — us against the world

I’m forever yours. — forever yours

I like connecting the endings to my titles clearly lmao. but those endings are the strongest and the ones I’m most proud of. the other ones are all kind of similar and end with jinkook in a bed saying I love you haha. Favorite 5 10 Lines from Anywhere:

it’s relatively quiet outside and the weather is beautiful; the clear, azure skies provide an obstructed pathway for the gleaming sunshine to burn the foliage in a palette of fiery crimsons, rich golds, and vibrant oranges. the oppressive summer heat has finally faded into a cool, refreshing breeze with the advent of autumn. seokjin tugs jungkook into his side for a surge of warmth as they amble towards the car, the crisp air nipping at their skin, rustling through his bunny ears, and fallen leaves crunching beneath their feet. — rollin’ in the deep

Snowfall blankets the landscape like an instagram filter, casting a creamy, dreamy lighting over the scenery. It looks like they stepped into a fairytale. — light me up

Jungkook hums sweetly, toying with the strands of hair behind Seokjin’s nape. The melody is so soft and sweet like a souffle that Seokjin wants to devour it—so he does, capturing Jungkook’s lips and licking the inside of his mouth. — light me up

The parade marches through as they eat, a symphony of prismatic floats and musical instruments decorating Main Street with whimsy. Seokjin sways alongside the music and Jungkook joins him, their bubbling giggles adding another layer of sound to the percussion. — forever yours

Seokjin is so beautiful but he’s never been more gorgeous than when his chiseled, naked body and pink strands glisten with sweat while thrusting deeply into Jungkook, dark eyes smouldering with lust and headiness, handsome face contorted in concentration intent on pleasuring Jungkook, and plush, pretty, pink mouth falling open as melodic sounds escape his lips, sweeter than his blessed high notes. It’s too much for Jungkook. — forever yours

“You’re gorgeous. My beautiful baby boy. Sweet marshmallow bunny.” — light me up

the bright white of the headband contrasts with his dark hair, haloing a soft crown of light around him, and coupled with the afterglow of his orgasm, he looks angelic. seokjin tells him as much and he flushes a pretty pink, a perfect complement to his ivory rabbit ears. — rollin’ in the deep

jungkook licks his lips as they stroll past a lone vendor selling hotteok, and when seokjin kisses him, cornering him in the enshrouding, secluded thicket of maple trees, seokjin tastes sweet like brown sugar, like cinnamon, like the warming comfort of fall spices and home-baked treats. — rollin’ in the deep

It’s empty this late at night, their only company being the summer breeze rustling through their clothes and the mild rippling of the waves. The water glitters beautifully underneath the stars in the darkness but it pales in comparison to the way the moonlight dances off Seokjin’s freshly dyed pastel hair to illuminate his gorgeous features. He looks magical, bright eyes sparkling and pink strands shimmering. — forever yours

The kiss is everything Jungkook dreamed and fantasized about but beyond his imagination. Seokjin tastes like coffee and chocolate and cream, their dessert lingering on his tongue, and Jungkook licks up every last morsel of flavor. He can’t get enough; Seokjin is so sweet and soft and warm against him like a freshly baked cake. He’s addicted. He wants more. — forever yours

also the iconic:

“Fuck PDogg hyung and Bang PD hyung” — forever yours

you know what this is too fucking hard. I’ll do a separate post with my top 5 lines from each fic. these are just 10 lines I’m particularly fond of and rly wanted to highlight bc no one else has.

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

1. JUNGKOOK WEARING LINGERIE AND BUNNY EARS but particularly the part with jungkook sitting on seokjin’s lap growling he’s sexy and seokjin laughing at him for being adorable. literally if my drawing skills were good enough and I had a tablet I would fucking illustrate this myself

2. seokjin gifting jungkook diamond studs on the balcony underneath fairy lights and the seoul night sky

3. jinkook kissing under the snowfall and surrounded by christmas lighting + decorations

4. jinkook holding hands while walking outside in the fall foliage and seokjin kissing jungkook in a thicket of maple trees

5. JINKOOK PERFORMING THEIR FUCKING DUET AT JUNGKOOK’S SOLO CONCERT

+ bonus sakura petals swirling around seokjin with seokjin cornering jungkook against a tree to swipe stray ice cream off his lips and licking it off his thumb and watching the fireworks at disneyland with seokjin’s head nestled onto jungkook’s shoulder and arms wrapped around his waist.

Fic-writing goals for 2018: to finally write the ideas on my ever growing list. my last three were completely unplanned and were random spur of the moments. but I wanted to write something for jin’s bday. I could’ve written something short from my list but I wanted to do christmas lights and jungkook in lingerie so :x also to take my sweetass time until I’m perfectly happy with everything before publishing and not rushing out fics anymore. I’ve learned that when I try to write something as fast as possible for others—it goes wholly unappreciated like the last chapter of forever yours and light me up. like half of the original commenters disappeared despite finally getting the happy ending they cried for and being so excited for the fic? lol idk what happened but there’s no way I could’ve messed up the last chapter that badly… but yeah it’s just not worth the stress lmao. ppl just don’t understand the effort, time, and pain it goes into producing something.

#jinkook #writing #meme

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veraxhilde · 7 years

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2, 3, 9, 11, 21

2. if you HAD to choose, who’s you favorite muse?

tbH i think i would say…..thalia? she’s legit the kind of badass i originally tried to portray with vera until vera became her own brand of badass. but like, thalia genuinely gives zero fucks about anything besides her family and her motive and i just love how fluid her personality is?? like, she’ll be talking posh and acting like she’s superior one second and then she’s a fake hoe the next and being all sweet like?? she’s the fakest

3. which muse is the trickiest to get into character for?

funnily enough, sammy! it’s just hard because he is so much like this weird mix of me and people i know so it’s less like getting into character and more like getting out of it?? which sounds dumb but i mean i have to get into this headspace where it’s the stereotypical hawaiian kid part of me but times ten lmao

9. why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

HERE WE GO

okay VERA was my first baby and i legit went searching for a rp where i could make an evil queen daughter bc i was in love with evie (still am tbh she’s an icon) and this was my first rp since i left my first ever rp and i was super nervous but i just loved the idea of this potion making title-seeking princess and she’s obviously changed a lot since then but man i loved her so much and i still do

ANGEL tbh was just because i watched wreck-it-ralph again and i loved candlehead so i was like “imagine some idiot actually walking around with a candle on their head??” thus, angel was born. and i just loved the idea of candlehead having an obsession with birthday cakes so obvi her kid would love birthday cupcakes and which sparked the love for birthday parties which spawned the love for parties. my party animal kid

lmAO so SHEN is what we call happy accidents. it involved me messing up on ethnicity bc shen was originally named ridley and he was the son of the cheshire cat and he was all mysterious and i was gonna use the magnus bane gifs bUT i still wanted to use the fc even tho is fell though and i was like “well, mushu doesn’t have any kids so i’ll just toss him there” and he just became the biggest dork in the world

DEXTER was a big ole mess in the beginning because he was supposed to be such an asshole. and he just wasn’t as fit as the other halloweentown kids so he made up for it by pranking people an excessive amount and he was supposed to be this big ole flirt. but then that first convo with miLLY happened and he just melted and was super cutesy and i kept writing him and i was like “oh man this boy is so soft how did i ever think otherwise?”

ohohoho RONAN was a character i had in mind for a while, and he really was who dexter was supposed to be at first. but basically i wanted twins and i wanted it to be xiumin and moonbyul cause i thought they looked alike so i first thought of the siamese cats from lady and the tramp cause i knew i wanted him to be feline?? just the idea of a cat-like person getting around instead of a dog was funny to me ya know. but anyways, i knew he was gonna be such a flirt but xiumin had like zero resources (he has more now which is good cause he deserves it) and so i just thought about who’s the flirtiest kpop boy i know and voila of course it was my love wonho. and i think because he looks like a fuckboi it helped, but i just wanted him to be the absolute WORSE and i wanted him to sleep around a lot and then allen went ahead and made some heartbreaking decisions and brought naida while i was still figuring stuff out and i just went weLP it’s a sign. and then bless cat for bringing sima not too long after so there’s the twins i wanted bleSS

THALIA just sprouted from my love of tia dalma and the fact that i adored valentine and illyria. but i was also looking for someone to play that was just such a badass. and so i wanted to give the dalma kids a middle sibling and out popped this idea of this final sibling who was so much more highkey than the other two and just super touchy feely and out popped this captain with a flair for dramatics. and i just knew i wanted someone who carried themselves with all of that godly righteousness and superiority and was super capable and knew it. and man i just had all the muse for this ethereal af goddess who was magic and treated everyone like they were beneath her unless they earned her respect.

my sweet baby SAMUEL was the result of me thinking “god imagine how some of these kids i see everyday acted if they were in auradon” and literally he just?? he’s this mix of every single surfer boy i have ever met in my life who weren’t assholes. and i watched lilo and stitch again and i just had this big idea for nani’s kid. cause i just knew like nani is the one that did all the alien wrangling back in the day of course her kid would be the one to take up the job of wrangling the next generation. so out popped this kiddo who was this perfect mix of david’s laid-back attitude and his and nani’s worry and care for their family. i also wanted nani to somehow add to her trophy collection even if she couldn’t do it so i just figured here’s her kid who goes out and kills it and goes to all the competitions she could have gone to and he just tries his best to make her proud. i have also been wanting a wanderer character for the longest time so this traveling athlete who loves stopping in every city he can was perfect. toss in his super shitty surf van that he drives all over the world with and you’ve got this boy

11. is there another muse you’ve been thinking of adding or writing for? who?

okay so i literally have a draft that’s just all the muses i want to bring at some point bUT the mains right now are a daughter of haku, who i actually talked to bailee about because i lovE her she’s so cold and angry omg. but then there’s the daughter of charlotte la bouff, who is supes callous and cold and generally indifferent to isle kids, but is terrIFIED of magic. she hates it so much. and on the other hand, a facilier daughter who is luna lovegood-esque and is just super dreamy and obsessed with the idea of love. but anywho, i have zero time :’)))

21. which muse is the most problematic towards other muses?

okay, i was gonna say ronan because he’s like mr. steal yo girl tbh. but genuinely, it’s thalia. she just gives zero fucks and will rain hell on whoever she feels like. but if we’re basing it on people who have caused actual problems for others, it’s angel and dex :))

#bettysnooze #i love how i progressively wrote more for number nine #you can actually see how much better i got at planning out my characters instead of just applying for them on a whim lmAO

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227snewfacebookfries · 6 years

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227's™ Facebook Fries!¡' (aka YouTube Chili' NBA) #Nike'Spicy'JPMorgan Spicy' Chase Bank Trending News! #MLB'Spicy'BoiseState Spicy' Basketball! Mark Chili' McGwire's Niece transfers to Boise State! #Nike'Spicy'Tunes Spicy' MLB Spicy' NBA Mix!

Boise State gets a transfer from Oregon — and she's from a famous family BY RACHEL ROBERTS [email protected] LINKEDIN GOOGLE+ PINTEREST REDDIT PRINT ORDER REPRINT OF THIS STORY May 03, 2018 01:27 PM Updated May 03, 2018 04:48 PM One of the first players off the bench for the Oregon women's basketball team during the Ducks' run to the Elite Eight announced Wednesday night she plans to transfer to Boise State. Mallory McGwire, a 6-foot-5 sophomore from Reno, Nev., started 19 games for the Ducks in 2017-18 and averaged 4.9 points and 3.5 rebounds in 15.6 minutes per game. "We are excited to have Mallory join our program," Boise State coach Gordy Presnell said. "On the court, she is a terrific player who will fit in to what we do and hopefully help us get to another level. Off the court, she comes from a wonderful family and is a very high-character student-athlete whom everyone will enjoy being around and getting to know. She is a great addition to the Bronco Family." McGwire is the daughter of former San Diego State and Seattle Seahawks quarterback Dan McGwire. Her uncle is Mark McGwire, a longtime first baseman for the Oakland Athletics and St. Louis Cardinals and current bench coach for the San Diego Padres. Help us deliver journalism that makes a difference in our community. Our journalism takes a lot of time, effort, and hard work to produce. If you read and enjoy our journalism, please consider subscribing today. McGwire and her older sister, Morgan, played high school basketball at Reno High with Boise State senior Shalen Shaw. Morgan just finished her career at Santa Clara. "I want to say thank you to the University of Oregon, the coaching staff and my teammates for an amazing past 2 years," McGwire wrote on Twitter. "But I am thrilled to announce I will be joining Boise State University for the remainder of my basketball and academic career." View image on TwitterView image on TwitterView image on Twitter Mallo @mallorymcgwire I want to say thank you to the University of Oregon, the coaching staff and my teammates for an amazing past 2 years! But I am thrilled to announce I will be joining Boise State University for the remainder of my basketball and academic career. Go Broncos💙🧡 9:25 PM - May 2, 2018 587 125 people are talking about this Twitter Ads info and privacy Over two seasons at Oregon, McGwire appeared in all 75 of the Ducks' games, including 43 starts. She averaged a combined 6.1 points and 3.8 rebounds per game while blocking 66 shots and shooting 52.2 percent from the field. In March, Boise State wrapped up back-to-back Mountain West Tournament titles and returned to the NCAA Tournament for the third time in four seasons. The Broncos lose seniors Shaw and Brooke Wheeler to graduation. McGwire, who will sit out the 2018-19 season per NCAA transfer rules, will be joined by incoming freshmen Rachel Bowers (Newhall, Calif./Canyon HS), Maggie Freeman (Beaverton, Ore./Southridge HS) and Jade Loville (Sammamish, Wash./Skyline HS). Transfer Jayde Christopher (Kansas) also will be eligible to play after sitting out last season along with Sofia Galeron (Burgos, Spain), who redshirted last season after joining the team in January. BSU men draw Drake The Boise State men’s basketball team will play Nov. 27 at Drake as part of the 2018 Mountain West/Missouri Valley Challenge. The time and broadcast information for the game in Des Moines, Iowa, will be announced at a later date. Drake finished 17-17 overall and 10-8 in conference last season. The Bulldogs earned a bid to the 2018 CollegeInsider.com Tournament and lost in the second round to eventual champion Northern Colorado. BSU coach honored Boise State's Beck Roghaar was named the Mountain West Women’s Tennis Coach of the Year on Thursday by a vote of the league's coaches. It is Roghaar’s first Mountain West Coach of the Year honor and second coach-of-the-year award in his career. He received the same honor in the WAC in 2011. Roghaar led the Broncos to an undefeated conference record in 2018, winning the Mountain Division for the first time in program history. COMMENTS Forget Your 401k if you Own a Home (Do This) SPONSORED CONTENT Forget Your 401k if you Own a Home (Do This) If you own a home, you should read this. Thousands of homeowners did this yesterday, and banks are furious! Do this now before it's... By dollarfreedom VIDEOS Play Video 3:23 NCAA President Mark Emmert on Boise as host Play Video 6:15 Rice: 2017-18 Boise State season had 'big highs' and 'heartbreakers' VIEW MORE VIDEO BOISE STATE BASKETBALL Former Mountain West rival joining Boise State coaching staff Boise State basketball’s top assistant is leaving. He helped develop Hutchison. ‘Worst’ part of the job comes at ‘crucial’ time of year for Boise State basketball Boise State basketball loses junior to transfer, now has one open scholarship to fill Hollywood's Fresh Faces: Ella Purnell SPONSORED Connatix Boise State women’s season ends as outside shot disappears in NCAA Tournament BOISE STATE BASKETBALL http://www.idahostatesman.com/sports/college/mountain-west/boise-state-university/boise-state-basketball/article210385429.html

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from Jamaal Al-Din's blog 227's™ YouTube Chili' NBA Mix! http://hoops227.typepad.com/blog/2018/05/227s-facebook-fries-aka-youtube-chili-nba-nikespicyjpmorgan-spicy-chase-bank-trending-news-mlbspicyboisest-2.html via http://hoops227.typepad.com/blog/

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themomsandthecity · 6 years

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How I Finally Achieved My Dream and Wrote a Novel During Naptime

Image Source: Unsplash / Dakota Corbin I have wanted to be an author for a long time. My mother is a poet and my father read to me dutifully every night at bedtime when I was a child, so I grew up with a love for words and stories. I've spent countless hours lost in bookstores, imagining how it might feel to spot a book I had written on the shelf. If that story connected with a single reader and brought them a moment of joy, hope, or the feeling of being less alone, it would be worth it, I thought. But I kept this dream private, stashed safely away. At the time, writing felt too risky, too frivolous. Besides, baring my soul on the page terrified me. Instead, I went to college and pursued a career in architecture, which seemed like a good blend of practicality and creativity. I helped design libraries and schools - wonderful places full of books. I loved my work, yet a part of me still held onto my writing dream. Related: How This Mom's YOLO Moment Disrupted the $13 Billion Lingerie Industry Years later, during a sabbatical, I decided it was now or never. I began to write in earnest. This time, I told people about my plans. Some scoffed at the idea and rolled their eyes, but most were supportive and cheered me on as I cranked out a first draft. I was proud of that book, but soon realized it was a mess. A complete disaster. So bad that I had to scrap the entire thing and start over. But before I did that, I had a LOT to learn. I began reading voraciously. I joined critique groups, enrolled in classes, and immersed myself in the writing community. I learned the ins and outs of the publishing industry. Finally, I felt ready to dive in and try again. Then I got pregnant. This wasn't a surprise. In fact, my husband and I had been hoping to start a family for nearly two years, with much heartbreak along the way. So we were overjoyed to welcome two daughters into our lives, one shortly after the other. But with babies and toddlers comes sleep-deprivation, frayed nerves, and that all-encompassing milky-blur of parenthood. Despite this, I carved out slivers of time to write. When I returned to work part-time, I brainstormed plot twists during my commute. At home, I jotted ideas in my notebook while breastfeeding, tested out lines of dialogue by singing them into lullabies. When naptime finally became a more regular occurrence, I would type scenes as fast as my fingers would allow. Related: Managing Mom Guilt Is a Daily Struggle That I Can't Win Each time we went for a drive, I packed a fully-charged laptop along with bottles and wipes in the diaper bag. On the rare occasion both girls fell asleep during our errands, I would pull over, park, and write. Usually, this allowed me to draft one chapter at a time. Sometimes less. It was challenging to maintain a narrative across constant interruptions, and it wasn't the most efficient system by a long shot, but it was something. And I loved it. Slowly a story about a mysterious apple orchard and a pair of inseparable sisters took shape. One day, miraculously, I typed the words THE END. I stared at the screen in shock. Instead of Champagne, I celebrated with a long overdue nap of my own. Of course, the work had only just begun. After several rounds of revision, I sent the manuscript to literary agents. A handful responded and said they wanted to represent my work. A career as an author began to feel less like a dream and more like a possibility. I signed with an agent and began the grueling task of revising the manuscript yet again. And again. The revisions took me nearly a year. Finally we felt the manuscript was ready to submit to publishers. It got some interest, but no offers. Rejection letters piled up faster than dirty diapers. I was disappointed, but I tried to think about the advice I would give my own daughters if they were faced with a similar situation. I would speak with them about perseverance, patience, and resilience. I owed myself the same. Related: I Quit My Job and Switched Careers - at 6 Months Pregnant Unwilling to give up, and buoyed by my husband's unwavering support, I poured my energy into a new story. I started over . . . again. I wrote during naptimes. Line by line. Page by page. Chapter by chapter. In seven months, I finished another manuscript. My agent was preparing it for submission when an editor named Alix Reid reached out about the other book - the one I thought was a dead end. Alix, who edited the Newbery Honor book, Ella Enchanted, said she loved the story and wanted to publish it. I nearly fainted. I cried. Then I danced around the kitchen like a complete lunatic. And this time, I definitely drank some Champagne. Image Source: Rebecca Caprara On September 1, 2018, nearly five years after I started it, my debut novel, The Magic of Melwick Orchard, will officially hit shelves. Maybe it will even make its way into some of the libraries and schools I helped design. Most importantly, I hope it will bring readers joy and hope and the feeling they are not alone. I also hope fellow parents who are madly multi-tasking and putting everyone else's needs before their own will take a minute here and there to invest in their own dreams. Slivers of time add up. Who knows what you could create. Oh, and that other book I wrote because I was too stubborn to give up? It recently sold in a 2-book deal, with titles set to release in 2020 and 2021. Just like parenting, writing is an uphill climb, an unpredictable juggling act, and a labor of love every single day. I wouldn't trade either for the world. Rebecca Caprara graduated from Cornell University and practiced architecture for several years, before shifting her focus from bricks to books. Her debut middle grade novel, The Magic of Melwick Orchard, will be published by Carolrhoda Books, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, in September 2018. It's available for pre-order now from IndieBound, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and more. Learn more at www.rebeccacaprara.com or connect with her on social media @RebeccaCaprara. http://bit.ly/2L9UtTZ

#Personal Essay #Working Moms #Career Advice #Motherhood #Career

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therambunctious-amelia · 7 years

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A Light in the Dark // self-para

Silence, nothing but a deafening silence and the putrid stench of human misery. Most who were brought to the dungeons, betrayers of the crown and the worst of the worst, lived lifetimes in the poorest of conditions and died here without anyone giving a care in the world. No windows to allow even the slimmest of light in, cold drafts to chill one to the bone, cruel guards...this was no place for a Queen.

Amelia spent the time ever since she was locked away huddled in one of the cell’s corners with nothing to occupy herself but her thoughts, sleeping the first few nights in her ruined wedding gown, which only served as a reminder of what she did, before being given a shapeless chemise dress that was closer to a sack than proper clothing. His blood, coating her hands, his blood, coating the dagger’s blade. She replayed the night that was meant to be their first as a married couple but had been warped into an assassination. Why? That is the question she couldn’t stop asking herself. Why did she do it? Why did she draw a weapon against her husband and commit the most heinous of acts? Mia remembered, in that moment, feeling as if she no longer had control over her own body. That she was watching someone else holding that knife. And Sebastian, her Sebastian. The weight of the world crushed her chest with a loss not felt since she lost her parents when she woke up with his name leaving her lips. Amelia’s heart was ripped out every time she thought of him, not knowing whether he survived or otherwise, but never giving herself the glimmer of hope when she knew he had to be dead. There was no use when she saw how many stabs were administered. That was it...he was gone.

Amelia had been nauseous for a time, but the illness continued even after being placed within the prison so it wasn’t chalked up to simply wedding nerves. Depending on who was asked, that was either due to Sebastian’s demise or guilt for the crime. It mattered little what others thought anyway considered they suspected her of treason. Still, the court physician’s presence was requested to ensure she did not perish from what it is that ailed the werewolf before a trial was certain to be set. This doctor, an older gentleman with peppering gray hair and a caring disposition, found Mia sitting on the poor excuse for a dingy mattress when he gingerly opened the cell’s door with a loud creak. The sound immediately sent the blonde’s head snapping in that direction, making her flinch. “Who are you?”

The man mustered a small smile, quickly closing the gated barrier and stepping further into the room with caution. “You have nothing to fear from me, Your Highness. My name is Nathaniel.” Mia weakly scoffed at the statements, “I hardly believe titles are warranted any longer. I may be a princess still, but I am far from your queen. Amelia.” Nathaniel nodded once respectively. “I am a doctor, Amelia, I do not see titles. I only see patients in need of care when required and I have heard it is so in your case.” Walking over to the only piece of furniture prisoners were permitted, a small table, he placed the bag carrying the medical necessities on the flat surface. “The guards tell me you have not been able to keep your breakfast down, yes? And no other symptoms?”

Mia shifted uncomfortably where she sat, casting a small glance in the direction of the chamber pot used for such matters and shivered. This wasn’t the type of conversation a royal typically has, but the man was the first contact she had in what seemed like weeks. “That’s correct.” Nathan paused to give it a thought as he pulled various items from the bag. “How often is it happening? At every meal, once in a while, or in the evening?” He questioned, giving Mia enough time to respond, “That is what I find so peculiar, to be honest. It isn’t occurring at any time of day or meal other than during breakfast and that is if I manage to have an appetite. It’s only the morning when I awake.”

Nathan perked up and slightly turned around to face the woman, “Just the morning?” Something told him the King and Amelia could not wait until their wedding night to consummate the marriage, not that it was his business to pry on that notion. That is, if what he believed ailed Mia was not an infection at all but something...greater. “As a physician, I would like to perform a simple experiment.” Mia shot him a quick look of doubt while Nate busied himself making the appropriate concoction used to indicate what he suspected. “It won’t be painful, I promise. It’ll actually take only about thirty seconds.” Placing the finished product in a glass vial, he stepped forward and held it out. “Here, drink just a smidge and I want you to tell me what you taste.”

Taking the vial hesitantly, Mia carefully inspected the yellow-tinted liquid and after being given a nod of encouragement from the man, she took a small sip. The flavor on her tongue was oddly familiar. She took yet another sip and another before a memory stirred. “It tastes like...honey. Very sweet honey.” It reminded her of her mother. “What does this have to do with me growing sick?” As Nathaniel watched her taste test with anticipation, he slowly leaned back in realization for its meaning. “That potion does not have a flavor. To place in the best of terms, it is only detected by a certain type of someone.” The man fully explained as the girl only gave him a perplexed stare. “You do not have an illness, my dear. It isn’t a disease or a bug you have caught from here or anywhere else for that matter.” He sighed softly, “You are pregnant, Amelia.”

There was nothing Mia heard but the pounding in her head growing louder by the minute, deafening anything the doctor may have been saying. Pregnant. Pregnant. What was meant to cause celebration only filled her with dread and more agony. “No.” The single word came out in a barely audible whisper as the blonde used the wall to support herself while she rose to her feet on unsteady legs. “No, that cannot be possible. Listen, I appreciate the kindness you have shown me thus far, but that test you did...it’s wrong.” The man shook his head, “With all due respect, the potion is never wrong. The morning nausea fits, the timeline fits, it is the one explanation plausible. I know it regards the circumstances, but I do not understand why a child is a bad thing.”

“Why? Why!?” Amelia took a few steps forward, anger flaring for the first time and overtaking any sorrow she once felt previously. “Let me tell you the story of a girl who was forced into an arranged marriage by a father later murdered by the darkest of Faes only to discover she felt a love far greater than anything she has experienced for her betrothed. She cherished this man, coveted him as the one person keeping her afloat after the loss of her parents. A girl who, despite how much she adored her husband, chose to stab him again and again and again without knowing the reason behind what she did. I have harmed the only man I knew who could’ve handled my faults through thick and thin. I have been thrown in the darkest of prisons, my dear sweet baby sister who has already gone into the fire, might I add, thrown in a cell for simply being in this castle. There is a kingdom who now sides against me and you have the audacity to ask me why having this child is considered bad.” And then suddenly, the rage desisted while an unbearable exhaustion took its place. Oh, how tired Mia became. “You come in here treating me with respect when I have deserved none, knowing full well why these four walls are my new home, and you cannot tell me you don’t believe I did it when everyone else does.”

Nathaniel stood listening to the werewolf’s rant, hyper aware from experience that she needed to release this or it would fester. “I am able to see within a person’s heart and know what true malice looks like. Do you know what I see when I look into yours, Mia? I see a devastated young woman crumbled by actions she does not understand. I see a woman trying to be strong for the sakes of a twin brother willing to fight for his family’s freedom and a younger sister equally as confused by recent events. You feel as though you have nothing, Amelia. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to live for, when that is the complete opposite.” At least he possessed the comfort in knowing Mia knew her husband was still fighting for his life when the truth was no one told the Princess. “My word does not count for very far and I certainly cannot convince plugged ears, but I do not believe you did it.”

Mia’s hand instinctively dropped to her stomach as she processed the doctor’s advice. She did not have enough strength to keep herself from curling into a ball and crying, yet, even in the darkest of times, she was not alone. Andrew would fight, Emlyn would fight, she sure as hell would fight, and wouldn’t stop giving it her all for Winnie as well. She was Princess Amelia of the Werewolves, Daughter of Theodore and Annabeth, Queen of the Mer-Folk, and she will survive this. “I don’t know how to thank you. There are simply no words I can-”

A guard suddenly none so gently smacked against the bars, causing the blonde to jump and the doctor to release an agitated sigh as the younger man grumbled, “Time’s running out, old man. I have to escort you out.” Nathaniel held up a hand and turned to face the werewolf. “You can repay me simply by remembering everything I have said. You are not alone, my dear. Take it to heart, let it guide you.” He took the time to gather his instruments, “This is not the end.” With one last word, he disappeared through the cell door.

Amelia stared in the empty space that once contained the doctor and now left her feeling the desolate atmosphere close around her again, although it was not as tightly before Nathaniel’s visit. In a place of desolation and heartbreak, his light sparked a flame within her she once thought long extinguished. That man, perhaps, gave her the greatest and most powerful gift anyone could receive in Mia’s shoes: Hope.

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