Excerpt From My WIP

Excerpt From My WIP

Feel free to critique my writing :D

Have you ever seen someone's vulnerable interiority? Those few moments far in between where a human decanter has been abused and left to pour their despair at your feet. As if you were a God? As if they were praying with their cries as hymns?

I always feared those moments. I feared many interesting things growing up.

I feared the day when mom would die. How I would be the only person who could be at the funeral.

I feared the day when someone would confess their love for me. How the light in their eyes would be twirling like flames with hope, or maybe shaking with fear?

I feared the moment when I could see someone in their purest moment. How I would be left with the choice of saying "I see you" or letting the moment fall past.

I feared those moments not because I was scared of grief, or scared of romance, or scared of another person.

In reality, I was scared of myself. Or my lack of self to be more apt. Confused? Don't worry. I'll explain myself.

To say that I "lack" emotions would be inaccurate. I can feel annoyance whenever a distraction interfers with my necessities. I occassionally have pangs of joy. I have felt grief. Joy. Love

unfortunately.

My emotions aren't strong.

When I was confessed to by a school companion in my youth with a two dollar flower and a million dollar smile, I felt an underlining of annoyance at this lackluster gesture. I quitely rejected them. I still made sure to grab the poor flower and put them in a vase as my mom always told me I should. Although, I never thought about them since that moment.

When a radiant sunshine revealed a tiny little hint of deeper awareness beneath their conspicuous joyfulness, I ignored it. That was the only time I had ever seen a pained smile of their face. There were some tears lighting up their eyes. I would never have that moment again. I ruined it.

The moment that sealed my fate was when my mother died after forcing her way through torturous chemo treatments and her own deterioration. At the bedside of own of the most loving angels that could ever grace this world, I couldn't even wring enough emotion out of me to cry authentically. I felt genuine sadness for her passing and joy for her rewarded sufferance, that was true. But it didn't feel like enough. This was the woman who raised me and I didn't even have the heart to be sad for the rest of my life.

At that moment, my greatest fears had come true, I was a grotesque monster who couldn't even bring myself to cry genuinely at my own mother's funeral. I spent more time in my childhood cottage thinking about my father more than my mother.

My father always called me a "nothing child" when I was younger. I still remember the exact words my mother said to me after she chased my father out of the house for the last time, "you aren't useless".

Maybe that was what my father meant when he called me a "nothing child" Maybe he really was trying to call me useless. But when my angelic mother died, when my companion was lost in romance, and when I lost the opportunity to discover humanity underneath my friend's exterior, I truly was a nothing child.

Practice Writing!

Today, I'm practicing some writing in the first-person.

BE WARNED: DARK TOPICS AHEAD! IMPLIED SUICIDE AHEAD

Finally, two days ago from the time I am writing this, my dearest mother kicked the bucket. In two more days, I might have to give a speech, a testimonial, on the life of my mother.

I am meant to stand on a stage only I can see as I narrate on emotions I've never known. Then again, I’ve always been segregated from the emotional expression of others. 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that this world is entirely comprised of unhappy people. But those people can fight their unhappiness with society fairly and squarely, and society often offers its sympathies for such struggles. My unhappiness stems entirely from my own conglomeration of human culture misappropriation and alien understanding of what humanity is. I have no way of fighting anybody. 

But I refuse to fall into the ploy of others. The particularly god-fearing friends of my mother would say it's blasphemy towards life to choose death before choosing life. “It is a violation of the natural order”. They say that those who choose to abandon the free will God has given us will be tortured in hell for all eternity

It’s raining. I guess I’m going to hell soaking. 

(If this is actually Mature, I can edit it to be mature ok?)

Excerpt From WIP (Criticize Me!)

Feel free to ask questions :D

Did you know that one of the most common symbols used in stories are eyes? That's a made-up statistic but in my opinion, it's true.

Caramel eyes that sparkle with sunlight in the dawn are used to communicate that while someone looks like the everyday, inside there is just something glorious about them.

Crystalline blue eyes are used to demonstrate an obviously mysterious kind of specialness. They glitter like fresh sleeping snow in the morning before the world has started again. Beautiful and fatal if you stand there for too long.

Verdant irises spring images of lively forests. Lively, energetic, and sensational are all words that apply to these characters. Slightly nosatalgic even. Sometimes given to those with greed in their hearts.

But scorched irises are rarely given a moment to shine. Only the most wicked men are given such a rich shade of deep brown. The majority of makeup advertisements and filters tend to given them a golden sheen.

If eyes are windows to the soul, then ink-like eyes are the least desirable to have.

I also didn't like them that much. None of my favorite characters had them and black, non-reflective eyes rarely told an interesting story.

I don't really know why I started thinking about this but it most likely has something to do with you, Yuuma.

Because you have pitch black eyes.

It's impossible to ignore them. Whenever you are overcome by this eclipsing sense of consuming bliss, the corners of your eyes wrinkle a bit. You also roll your eyes a lot. Even the universe herself seems at awe with your eyes. The soft breeze always ruffles your eyelashes gently, as if it's an orchestrator guiding nature herself to worship you. The paint you always use leaves itself near your eyes. I really like when the black dye does that. It makes it look like you have two sets of eyes!

I notice because I always try to notice. I want to notice these little things. I want to think of beautiful poetry to spin about your eyes.

Characters in love always pay attention to their love interest's eyes. Your eyes aren't beautiful. They make you look like Stonehedge in old England whenever you aren't actively expressing, like when you're painting. I remember this one moment when Anghel was frightened by your sudden appearance. He just suddenly yipped "Eyes!". We both laughed like maniacs.

Your eyes aren't beautiful. But they're yours which means they deserve attention. And let's be honest with ourselves! If i'm not willing to stare into your eyes who else will? how could I call myself worthy enough to be your love interest?

So I will watch your eyes as the sun begins to slip into the horizon, and the dim sparkle of waking stars acts as a spotlight focused entirely on you. This is your domain. You are the ruler of this moment. It suits you well. The universe sings around you; it's a symphony, and you are the solo. You are ethereal.

You open your mouth to say something and the sun itself seems to hault as if what you are about to say will shake the core of universe. You hesitate. The sun and stars stands still as we all stare in support. You can do it. Finally, you find your resolve again. You speak.

"I love you"

Tagging: @differentnighttale, @12-cluh, @madmadhuman, @melda0m3, @drivingmebonkas, @startheoverseer, @fanwriting93, @loverboyxbutch, @largestmothinnorthamerica, @lavenillarose, @ravennova7, @procrazedfan, @wyvchard, @outrazona

Character Quotes

Here are some out of context quotes ranging from feral to adorable to just down right tragic ^-^

" It seems remarkably simple. So simple, I feel so stupid that I'm truly flabbergasted by how it served as an epiphany. But even so, when I looked into the future, my future, I had one singular thought "I don't deserve this". - Nonkosi Tyali to Yituing

"Whatever you choose to be in the future is fine! When I say I love you, I don't want it to be a rule that means "stay this way forever". If you will be a burden in the future, that's fine. If you will be someone who decides not to love me, that's fine aswell. " - Yuuma Mochizuki to Jukka Virtanen

"I'm not naive darling, desite your unholy misrepresentation of my words. I understand the sins of men. I know all about your own failures to follow the scripture. I choose to be with you because I want my words to be honorable. And using my honorable tongue, I will say I love you because you are so delightfully human. - Gabriel to Claude

"At least the king named it Defense Innovation in Living Faculties (DILF) and not something named after himself!" - Hetrunmeass to Nariman Nahornyj

"If my vow was to fall in love with a virtuous person, then I definitely didn't break it." - Yal'ir to Monday

"If believing in love is all humans can ever do, and if hope for love is the most human of all, then I am purely human." - Verne Lawless to Stansevain

Help With Publishing And Networking

From @kathartic-kat we have a desperate plea for help: "Could I ask about like publishing (indie and trad) and building like a network/presence as an author/aspiring author?"

Unfortunately, I don't feel comfortable answering such an influencial question so i'm turning this out to you!

From experienced publishers and networkers:

How?

How To Write Supressed Memories

From @differentnighttale we have a new ask: "How do I write a character who becomes a murderer without knowing while dealing with his repressed or surpressed memories?"

The condition that causes "repressed memories" is called dissociative amnesia.

A) Dissociative Amnesia

Dissociative Amnesia is caused when a traumatic or stressful event is so emotionally overwhelming that the brain builds walls surrounding the memories. This either blocks out severe or long-term trauma.

In most cases, the person still has the memories but they're just kept seperate from the everyday consciousness. Ultimately, dissociative amnesia is one of many different kinds of coping mechanisms that the brains adopts whenever a situation is so deeply traumatic and life-altering that the brain needs to shove it away.

However, despite the fact that the consciousness can't actively recall the memories, the traumatic event would still impact their behavior subconsciously.

For example:

giving them a phobia with seemingly no beginning

a refusal to enter in locations for no obvious reason

an avoidance of certain types of people

flashbacks

nightmares

Most people aren't aware of their missing memories until outside circumstances remind them. For example, military men with PTSD might forget the days following the return until someone mentions it.

This time can stretch from days after the trauma to months to even years.

B) Can Murder Be Traumatizing?

Answer: it depends

If the person is murdering people with a cold-hearted attitude and generally fine with murder, then they probably wont be traumatized.

However, if these murders were commited by a person when the tensions were high then it might result in dissociative amnesia.

Another contributing factor in this hyperspecific scenario might be the person's own internal beliefs of themselves! If someone is so convinced they are a great person, then they might shove down memories where they weren't a good person.