Push Through The Writers Block I Am Trying!!! And It Isnt Working!!!

“push through the writers block” i am trying!!! and it isn’t working!!!

I hemmed and hawed over making this post but in the end I suppose I must. For understandable reasons, I keep details about my life private other than a few vent posts here and there but I am in a vulnerable situation. Probably the most vulnerable I've been in years.

As noted above, I am in uncertain employment (a fixed term contract) and living in unstable conditions. It has reached a point where I am seriously looking into fleeing my house because I am not safe. I don't feel comfortable going into details but my story isn't much so different from other instances of black women suffering in silence. I am not asking you to help me survive because I have done that on my own so far and I intend to keep doing so. However, in surviving, I will have to make sacrifices and publishing the rest of my books will likely be one of them.

If you have any care at all for my series and want to see it continue, it would mean the world to me if you would donate towards this ko-fi goal. As mentioned, I will make a note of every donator and gift them a free ebook of the books in the trilogy personally and if we surpass the goal I will look into giving you something else, should funding permit.

If you cannot donate but would still like to support me then promoting my books any way you can would do a lot to help garner interest and hopefully even put money in my pocket.

Thank you for reading this post to the end.

Reblog if you genuinely support asexuals

It terrifies me that there’s so much raging passion in the lgbt+ community that insist on marginalizing asexuals and implying that asexuals don’t deserve to have safe spaces. There’s still so much acephobia so I just wanna know which blogs are genuinely supportive and a safe space for asexuals

c.f writing update #1 - ghost I

i hit 10k words on this project so im gonna share some things about the first chapter because this chapter has been written for months and i NEED to talk about it (intro to that WIP if you missed it).

(this may or may not be coherent. we’ll see)

Chapter I: Ghost I

Ghost I was originally the second chapter of this book and was called phone calls but i then decided (with the help of a friend) that the og first chapter (which was called broken ribs) was boring and scrapped it :D i like this chapter as the first one a bit more because i truly think it’s written better and feels a lot less closed in. broken ribs was claustrophobic and very melodramatic and it weighed on my brain. so when i got the confirmation that the feeling wasn’t just me i happily scrapped it for what is now Ghost I

This chapter is about 4k words so it is LONG !! the other chapters are not nearly this long i swear but there was a lot to be added in this chapter.

The chapter name comes from the metaphorical ghost aspect of the book. This chapter is the first of many ghost named chapters (there’s already a ghost II and III planned) and even though they’re called “ghost” no actual ghosts appear :D (also my personal favorite ghost chapter is ghost III atm)

before i get on to excerpts (my favourite part :D) here’s the little summary thing (idk what it’s called i just write one before every chapter)

Nadia and her friend Edith could care less about the idea of cryptids. They’re ghost hunters, not cryptozoologists. But when they come face to face with one and are told a whole town is full of them, they think it might be time to talk to their boss, Basira.

okay so !! here’s the opening paragraph to the chapter because it’s pretty snazzy (it really isn’t)

' No ghost hunting team truly cares about a cryptid.’

The ache in my head gets worse in the car. So does the pain in my ribs. The image of the cryptid is still burning in my mind. Edith’s hands still shake even though she’s gripping the wheel like her life depends on it. We don’t know what to say, so we say nothing. Though the presence of the creature looms over us.

i really don’t know how to feel about this first paragraph. if i get a better idea, i’ll change it. but until i start editing it’s gonna stay like this.

my friend says that nadia is very katniss everdeen without the constant survival mode element and i think that sums her up pretty well so here’s a paragraph that my friend called katniss core

The world grows darker as we drive and the silence soon becomes comfortable. My head is aching and I just want to shut my eyes and pray that sleep takes me. It won’t. I’ve barely slept for a week. My hand grabs on to the water bottle again. I don’t splash my face with water, though I am slightly longing to feel the cool water drip down my too warm face. I just hold it, as if holding it will make my headache go away.

nadia and edith interaction time !!

As if she is reading my mind, Edith asks, “Is your head okay? I didn’t have time to check if you broke skin or something.”

“It hurts but I’ll be fine. I don’t think it’s serious.”

“I hope so. We’re not big on hospital trips.”

nadia’s an orphan (because she’s funky) and she gets very jealous of kids with parents so here’s a moment where that happens

A mother is walking with her child across the street. They’re talking about the event they just went to. The child is full of life and joy and the mother is smiling kindly. Her face is tired but she still manages to look enthralled in what the child is saying. Her responses are more than half-assed mhm’s and yeahs, and instead finds actual answers.

It was fun wasn’t it?

Maybe we can go to another thing with Mikayla.

Something similar to jealousy fills my chest. I wish I would’ve had that as a child, instead of an orphanage director who could care less about the child he’s looking after. I long for an actual parental relationship. I hope that child has the greatest life, free of all the hardships I’ve ever witnessed.

first andre introduction !!!

Edith unlocks the door and we walk into a fully lit home. Andre’s on the phone whispering something and he stops when he sees us. The phone slams on the hook. He leans on the wall as if nothing has happened. I’ve noticed he does this often. Does something and then pretends he wasn’t doing it. Maybe he’s a drug dealer.

sorta long passage of the sillies in silence and andre being sketchy (he’s not actually a drug dealer lolz nadia’s just spent too much time around wild orphanage kids)

We walk into the kitchen, the simple floral wallpaper meeting my eyes. It soothes my head and is pleasing to the eye. It’s one of those things I never notice until something in my day has changed. Like a headache. Like the witnessing of pseudoscience creatures. Like the making of lunch at eight o’clock.

Edith begins to make sandwiches. I sit at the small table. There’s a marker in front of me. I grab it and begin doodling on my skin. A ghost, an eye, a smiley face, my name. The ink bleeds on my skin with every stroke. There’s a rumour that the ink from this marker will give me skin poisoning. I’m not sure how much I believe it. If it did give people skin poisoning, wouldn’t they put a warning? Maybe not. The world doesn’t like to put warnings sometimes, even if people will die.

Edith takes the marker from my hand when she’s done with the sandwiches, placing it gently on the table, and sits down across from me. We begin to eat our sandwiches in silence. Andre’s talking on the phone again, probably thinking we can’t hear him. There’s an urgency in his voice as he whispers the words, “I need something with freedom.”

Edith’s done with her sandwich long before I am. She seems impatient, as if something must happen now or something will go wrong. She’s bouncing her leg under the table and going back and forth between putting her head in her hands and leaning her chin on her hand. I realise she’s waiting for Basira. The clock strikes 8:30.

basira introduction !! (she is the coolest grimm crew member)

She walks in behind Edith. Her locs are pulled up and her top hat is in her hand. Her face is glistening with sweat and she lacks a coat. She sits next to me, tossing the hat in front of her.

silly conversation in the middle of basira being like “cryptid filled town is NOT important. i want to sleep im tired >:(“ (also basira knows what bleeding internally is she’s just very tipsy and tired rn)

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s not important. Unless one of you got hurt I don’t see why we’ve got to discuss this now.”

“I hit my head.” I say, looking for the marker again. “If that counts.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“You don’t know?”

“I could be bleeding internally.” I can’t find the marker.

“That’s where blood is supposed to be.”

Edith cuts in. “It wasn’t a ghost, Basira. It was a cryptid.”

nadia realises the kitchen lights are dim and she’s very bothered by it and edith is like “girly are you okay” cause they aren’t dim

“The lights are dim.” I say.

“Are they? They seem bright enough to me.”

“No, they’re definitely dimming. Do you have any extra light bulbs? Maybe I could change them.”

“They don’t need to be changed.”

“It’s practically pitch black in here at this point. I can go buy some more if you need me to.”

“Jesus, Nadia, are you sure you’re alright? I think you hit your head harder than you think.”

plot twist !! the lights are actually dim and nadia has her “i could fr do this right now” moment

I know I’m not seeing things when I walk out into the hallway and the lights are just fine. It’s only the kitchen that’s dim, which tells me that it is the light bulbs. I look toward the door. It’s unlocked. My coat is on its hook. There’s a convenience store down the street and they don’t close till midnight. There’s money in my coat pocket.

nadia does NOT buy lightbulbs she actually buys cigarettes cause its the early 70s and there’s no adult supervision and now her and edith are hanging in her room listening to black sabbath and talking about backstories !!

“What was the orphanage like?” Edith asks suddenly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Do I mind her asking? In the short week I’ve been away from the orphanage I’ve tried not to think about the orphanage and its horrific people. Now I’m being confronted with it by someone other than myself and it’s bothersome. Then again, Edith probably has a story similar to end up at a job like this before turning eighteen so there’s no reason not to talk about it a bit.

“Loud. There’s a lot of children running around all the time and they’re always shouting.”

“I guessed that would probably be the case. Do you have any fond memories?”

I used to, but they’re all plagued with a strange feeling of impending doom now. “No, not really.” Silence passes over us for a moment before I adjust myself and say, “What about you? What was your life like before Grimm’s Ghost Hunting?”

convo continued but now it’s about edith

“Pretty boring. Quiet, even. I attended school up until I dropped out and then my mum kicked me out which led me to end up here.”

“You dropped out?” That goes against every single thing I’ve ever known about her.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “It just wasn’t for me, I guess.”

The phone starts to ring after she says that. It echoes through the room and is particularly loud for me, as I’m sitting right by the bedside table. Edith drops the photos at the sound and looks at me, eyes wide.

nadia’s scary ex girlfriend calls her and nadia’s like “eek how do you know where i am” and i hate lynette williams sm

“Hello?”

“Hello Nadia.”

I freeze. The cause of the impending doom feeling is on the other end and her voice is just as fear inducing as it was when I last heard it. Lynette Williams, a pretty French girl with a world of evil on her side. She haunted me more than the ghosts for a year and now she’s haunting the phone.

“How did you get this number?” I ask, voice shakier than I would like.

“Magic.” she laughs. I hate the sound of her laugh. “How are you? Is the real world treating you well?”

“Fuck off, Lynette. Don’t call again.” I slam the phone on the hook. My breathing is heavy and my headache is back again. I can’t stand her.

“Who was that?” Edith’s voice scares me.

“No one. It’s no one.”

final part of the chapter !!!

She looks unsure. I don’t blame her. I’d be unsure if I were her. That phone couldn’t have sounded good one-sided. Lynette’s voice rings in my head. She doesn’t care how I’m doing. She just wants to scare me. It’s working. It’s working very well. I’ll never admit that out loud but I can think about it. I can think about it till my brain rots from the fear of one girl. I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, and turn to Edith.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

and that’s Ghost I for you all !! this post was just an excuse to rant and share things about my silly story and i’m sorry it’s a little long. also this has not been edited so it’s not the greatest but it’s not bad either :DD i’ll probably make an update for the second chapter soon !! i hope you enjoyed reading about my silly book and have a good day !!

why is it always "you have an infestation" and "oh my god why are you covered in lesions" and never "how is the wasp's nest in your attic? is it nice? does it thrum with life and malice? does it sing that you are beautiful, that you are a home, that you can be fully consumed by what loves you?"

today the kid i sit with in science said "oh right i have to support my hypothesis" and just. started gluing wood to the back of his poster. potentially the funniest thing that has ever happened in the same vicinity as me