Maybe An Obvious Tip For Writers Out There, But When You Get Stuck On A Scene Or Part Of Your Story,

Maybe an obvious tip for writers out there, but when you get stuck on a scene or part of your story, whether just being art-blocked, unsure if your plot makes any sense, or don't know how a scene should play out etc -- maybe just talk to someone about it. Writer, non-writer, anyone.

I had a chat with my dad about a scene I'd been struggling to write for months since I just didn't know how my characters would pull something off, and he just figured it out. Sometimes other people will have the specific life experience or knowledge you need, or a new perspective, and sometimes they just ask the right questions for you to figure it out yourself.

I'll be stuck for weeks or months on a scene or plot point, and a fifteen minute conversation with someone else will get me past that writer's block and ready to launch right back into it.

learning about poisonous plants is way more entertaining than I’d anticipated. The instructor is like “so anticholinergics can kill you, but we can use this cholinergic plant (that can also kill you, but in a cholinergic way) as treatment in clinical settings :)”

like imagine eating belladonna and the solution being “here, have some more poisonous berries” it feels like the equivalent to finding someone who is freezing to death and the solution being to set them on fire. I love it.

(suffice to say that none of this is medical advice btw, if you want to learn about poisonous plants please learn it from proper sources and not tumblr shitposts 😭)

One of my favorite screencaps in existence. Head pats have a special place in my heart. (White collar, S1E10)

different art style than usual for me, so slightly eh, but it’s always fun to try new things

“Hey! This is Jack the Dalton speaking. Probably couldn’t catch your call due to doing cool… bathroom tile salesman… stuff. Leave a message and I’ll hit you back up. Ciao!”

“I don’t know where I am right now.” Mac mumbled. He was aware he was slurring, slightly. He felt like he weighed a million pounds, or maybe like he’d been welded in place into his car. Immovable. Lethargic. His skin felt damp, he didn’t know if he was sweating or bleeding. He felt too cold to be sweating. “But I need help. Can you…”

Mac closed his eyes. Can you what? Find me? Not leave me? Just talk to me?

The voicemail beeped, marking an end to the message.

Mac redialed.

(Fanfic)

finally got time to draw again, so of course I had to torture myself by going back to trying to draw likenesses

character is Jarod from The Pretender (I’ve been on a 90s shows streak recently) don’t be fooled by his death stare, he’s just a silly goober.

Pro tip: if you’re stressed out just start dressing like you’re Magnum PI. There’s something about the mental dissonance of being anxious while wearing the most obnoxiously patterned Hawaiian shirt on god’s green earth. It doesn’t compute. Especially if you also have the jorts. It’s like fake it till you make it but it’s dressing like you don’t know the meaning of anxiety.