I want someone to make those kinds of posts that people make about Hunger games about my book, analyzing it in-depth and all the connecting pieces I didn't know I connected.

I want to write but I also want to read. I wish I could split in to two of me

Ugh. I love the trope of a character living with a dead body in plain sight but isn’t mentally able to recognize it. Whether they be too young or they are so far gone that they can’t, it’s so. Horrific. Like the moment you REALIZE that there’s a dead body of a loved one just. Sitting there. And they’ve been living their life without missing a beat as it rots in the living room. Bonus points if they acknowledge it but as someone or something else. Like oh that’s not my dead aunt, she’s alive silly! Or oh aunties been sleeping.

They’re so out of it that someone literally DYING (especially when they played an important role in the characters life) that they don’t even notice. It doesn’t even concern them. They are SO wrapped up in they’re delusions and hallucinations (for the mentally deteriorating or disturbed trope) that the smell of a rotting body that only CONTINUES to smell worse doesn’t even hinder them enough to be concerned. To them everything is just fine and peachy. They don’t realize their mom slipped and broke her neck, and it’s not even they that they don’t or wouldn’t care, it could plausibly be that they aren’t CAPABLE of realizing this person is dead. they don’t want to. their mind completely reworks their reality so that she’s very much alive but sleeping, or on a trip somewhere. Or just literally hallucinates conversations with them. Ugh this one is just my personal favorite but.

Pr when a character is so young they don’t KNOW what death is or WHY their mom hasn’t gotten up in weeks, even months. They don’t understand why the house continues to smell worse and worse. They’re forced into taking care of themselves, to being their own adult while this person who was supposed to take care of them ‘sleeps’. I don’t like this one as much as the hallucinations one, because with this one the situation is less malleable and more specific. But it’s still so good. It means that the person who was taking care of them made them feel like they were supposed to do it themselves. They’re too scared to try and wake mom or even if they did try when it doesn’t work, they still don’t get someone else. It could either mean neglect, or oversheltering. It’s just them and mommy. The character either doesn’t trust other people or doesn’t even ASK them because how could they help? It’s just them and mommy. But mommy’s sleeping, so they have to be good so when she wakes up she’s rested and is proud! And on the flip side, the character could be scared and maybe doesn’t want their parental figure to wake up because then that means they get punished or maybe they have friends over or the parental figure just isn’t fun to be around. Loud, obnoxious, or maybe negative and constantly drunk, or maybe the kid doesn’t NOTICE they haven’t gotten up. They’re so independent at such a young age that they can get to school, they can get their own food, and when the food runs out that’s when they get a little concerned. But they’re still young. They don’t know how to long term problem solve or how to QUESTION what’s going on around them. The smell? just avoid it. The food? try to ration or get food from friends and school.

my favorite part is REALIZING that the character goes their daily life around something so horrible and rotting. You could probably tell something was off. Whether with the kid they were quiet or antisocial, maybe a little weird, or with the hallucinations character, you could tell they are a little off their rockers. You never EVER thought it was actually this bad. A dead body? Rotting? for weeks? how does someone let this happen? This poor person. This poor kid. Reality either something they avoid, or has become to make no sense. Reality is what the kid has been told. They were never told what death is or what to do.

It hurts so much more when it’s a character you’ve WATCHED become this way. You’ve seen them interact with their late loved ones before. You’ve seen them socialize somewhat functionally. You know who they actually are and you KNOW how much they cared for this person. But something happens. Or maybe nothing did. But they just grew more and more reclusive. As their mental state deteriorates, so did their living friendships. And the less and less people talked to them, the less and less they bothered to attach themselves to reality or anyone who really was. Then you finally get to see inside their mind, their house, and hope it’s not the worst case scenario. But as you turn the corner into a room or a stairway, you see. You see that it’s so so much more worse than you could have EVER thought. and i lostmy train of thoug

Being a writer means agonizing over the fact that the cool scene that you came up with one night at 3am has to be left out of your story because it directly conflicts with an even cooler scene you came up with one night at 3am

Ageing is a beautiful thing. If only we didn't feel it to be a curse. We have all heard of the curse of immortality, to live and watch everything and everyone perish. To be a lonely mountain surrounded by a sea of death, with no promise of rest.

To see mortality as a curse, is to curse the cycle. The born, the living and the dieing. So Again I'll say ageing is beautiful, its a journey so fleeting but full of purpose and colour. Spring awakening leading into summer exploration. Soon the quiet winter will be upon us all. But for now, I sit among the spring blooms, and await the summer fields.

I give up hours of sleep, my social life, and the last of my sanity , all for the elusive pursuit of the perfect story(in other words trauma dump onto fiction characters). Abandoned drafts have been ceremonially sacrificed tothe cruel weiting gods of inspiration and proofreads. ( ALwaYs fInDInG TypOS! )

People witness this bizarre lunacy , their expressions shift from confused curiosity to horrified concern, unsure whether to offer assistance or slowly back away, fearing they might be next in line for the writing gods sacrificial offerings.Not so. Shock. horror. (they are).

✨Writblr Intro✨

Hi there! I’m A. Lawrence but you can call me Aki! I’m a disabled nonbinary author (and artist). I write supernatural horror comedy, dark fantasy, and cozy fantasy!

Ghost Punch is my main wip. A fun night of ghost hunting turns deadly when Shay discovers that not only are ghosts very real, she has the power to touch them. She’ll have to face deadly supernatural threats with the help of her annoying brother, best friend, an anxious witch, and an amnesiac ghost with a hole in his chest. The first book is out and you can get it here!

Last Light is a dark fantasy sapphic romance about a witch, a vampire, and a werewolf walking into a living library. Featuring a very small toad. (Coming 2024)

Shadowcast is a gaslamp fantasy book about a young man named Emery living in a town besieged by shadow monsters. But not everything is as it seems, and shadows are always darkest when the light is brightest.

Summoning Trouble is a cozy fantasy series about a team that solves magical mysteries. Hiring a third person seems simple enough, but their first case as a trio ends up being a lot more than they bargained for. Features a cute moth dragon.

I have various other wips I poke at like Bury You Twice (horror comedy with zombies and shovels), Strange Paths (a creature feature horror), Thief and Guard (high fantasy comedy with a side of romance), and a fantasy series currently called Forest Books. Feel free to ask about any of them!

Humans finally start traveling into outerr space. Other aliens mistake them for a non sapient species and start collecting them thinking they are some version of space cats. The humans catch on and allow this so they can lean more about other alien species and technology before having to bother with space politics. It all comes to a violent bloody halt when the aliens start collecting and sorting them by color.

Swimming

Cw: Swearing

Rose fidgeted as she looked at the water. "Alright. See you on the other side?"

"Yes. I... I'll see you eventually..." Jakkon nodded, forcing a smile as Rose leaped into the air and swooped easily over the expanse of water.

Silas glanced at Jakkon. "Do... do you want to go first?"

"No. Why don't you go?"

"I can't... I... uh..."

"You can't swim."

"What? How did you know?" Silas hesitated.

"You're made of gold Silas. It wasn't difficult to figure out, and you've been alive for only a month. How would you know regardless?"

"Fine. You're right! I can't swim! But what am I supposed to do? Why don't you just go on ahead and I'll go around?"

"I'd rather not leave you behind."

"What can we do them? Make you carry me?" Silas' shoulders slumped.

"No." The Satyr tilted his head at the water, thinking.

"Why don't you go across some other possibilities that might open then, and you can always come back over!"

Jakkon stopped. He frowned. "Fuck. You know what? I don't care. I can't swim either, that's why."

"What-"

"Shut up. These legs don't work for it, and these Horns don't exactly make me the fastest in water." He scowled. "Now, not a word of this to the others, you hear me?

"Alright." Silas smiled. "So we find a way around?"

Jakkon rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "A way around indeed."

find me halfway from hell

halfway to myself

and horrible at all of it

find me alive

find me in love

I am found by my fuck ups

I rise like tsunamis

I crash at your place

and I drown in sand pits

and come Lazarus

and fishermen find me

find me at the beach

scorched by demons

purple from death

and find me still walking

unwavering human who’s finding

teeth grinding

my body and self something I give

and I wear

and I find the time

I was running through the woods and I saw a deer.

I stopped in my tracks to see it shape shift into a coyote,

heavy wooshes rung above me, I looked up to see two ravens fighting. The sound their wings made, when they were flying, was a kind of transcendence.

The pain cannot be stopped, but the suffering can

Maybe we're given two hands to always hold two opposing truths at the same time

This life is beautiful and this life is suffering

Love and pain. Pain and love.

coffeeandbookss

Hey hey hey!

I just realized that every WIP I have and really like, has either...

A Drunk, An insane person, An Assassin, A rejected dishevelled outcast, or A sassy Thief as an Antihero

And they're always my favorite character...

For example, TCOT has three of these: Marril - (Assassin), Geon - (Insanity), Honrul - (Thief)

StF has One, Alkain as the outcast

And you all know where Jak lies on this scale...

Butttttt, My brain had been throwing ideas around recently, so I have a new potential WIP (which also coincidentally follows this format)

Officially to be Temporarily named C4

Now, please tell me if you'd like me to add this to my list of WIPs and work on dumb shit when I'm bored

---------------------------------------------

A story about people from 4 kingdoms. All of the characters are named after nature items but have a nickname that matches a Real life name. Including 4 of the 5 characters above (P.S. Each kingdom is modeled after one of the 4 standard elements)

1. (Thief) MC, Granite Hall [Grant] is a Sassy Thief who Smuggles gemstones from the Earth/Cave-themed kingdom.

2. (Outcast) 100% Disheveled Idgaf guy, Aragonite Hollins [Aaron/Argon] is a random city insider who nobody likes because he's lowkey kind of a bitch - Also from the Earth-themed caves

3. (Insanity) Savanna Fields [Anna] is batshit insane and terrifies her coworker and fellow slave Mesa [Mace] by harassing their masters and earning herself punishment on purpose as a fuck you. Other than that... she's just crazy - From the Fire-themed Mesas

4. (Assassin) Kelp Stryker [Kel] He fucking hates his name, and is a professional Assassin under the Queen of his water-themed kingdom. He is forced to work with a Freelance spy/burglar named Brook Swann

---------------------------------------------

Sooooo...

@oliolioxenfreewrites @friendfromdsmp @thepeculiarbird @corinneglass @phoenixradiant @sunflowerrosy @kia-is-poisoned @rivenantiqnerd @aestheic-writer18 @ryahisbored @nkikio @somethingclevermahogony @mjparkerwriting @sl-vega @darkandstormydolls @agirlandherquill @baconandeggs-25 @alnaperera @fantasy-things-and-such @ajgrey9647 @aalinaaaaaa @cybercelestian @danielleitloudernow @illarian-rambling @idunnobutliaiscool @jeremy-no @fandom-pits-dweller @xenascribbles @katwritesshit @smudged-red-ink @sunnyjustice @thelazywitchphotographer @pastellbg @louudthoughts @bigwipscholar @killingthemoon84 @attemptingwriter @purplehandshumanfeelings @bluberimufim

Edit: SHIT I WANTED TO MAKE THE POLL 1 DAY NOOO

Am I getting a better appreciation of writing or am I just getting more picky?

Today I was clumsy

I had to take extra steps

As to not knock over anything

_

Today I was shaking

In anger?

Fear?

Amxiouaness?

Maybe all of the above

_

Today even my breathing was too loud

Not to mention the grass

The animals

The people

The wind

Oh the wind

That FUCKING WIND THAT DOESN'T LET ME FALL ASLEEP

_

Today I had to deal with

Myself and me alone

With a few "simple tasks"

Along the way

"I'm friendly and thoughtful and quite awfully pretty, but he needed more than me."

Modern Baseball: Tears Over Beers

Sight unto thee.

A broken one with eyes blown white

Sees a heaven doused in light.

This is no false seer,

This is revelation

Given to a believer.

Kings have claimed to have seen as such before,

But they have never looked up

from their golden floor.

So it is the begger in raggs and full of hunger,

Who feasts their eyes on a holy prize

Worth more than any king

or riches comprised.

It is not them who fear demise.