Writer Of Color - Tumblr Posts
Writeblr Intro
Hello! I'm Anya. She/her, English major, queer WOC. I'm not new to tumblr but this account sure is! I've lurked on writeblr (and general tumblr) for a bit and my original account went from a budding writeblr to a general account so I'm here to try again, lol. I'd love to make some writing friends, so if you're interested I'd be happy to hear it!
I predominantly write fantasy, though I like to dabble in a bit of everything because I don't understand restraint lmao. You'll never see me write realistic fiction though. I'm simply incapable. All of my writing must have some level of magic/supernatural elements in it, or it's not mine! I've been trying to get back into reading and writing more consistently, and actually WRITING instead of just thinking about writing or obsessively outlining and planning.
I tend to bounce around on WIPs so I have way too many. But my main focus at the moment is Traveling Bards (working title), a portal fantasy/isekai comedy about three sisters causing chaos in a fantasy medieval kingdom. I'll be posting a dedicated intro post to that and other WIPs soon so please follow or just check in on my blog if you're interested!
Would love to have some fellow writing buddies, whether that's for motivation, sharing advice, critiques, or just commiserating together!
Katsuko Gaiden
WIP Intro
Genre: Romance, Fantasy
POV: Third person limited
Warnings: Violence, blood, implied sexual activity (fade to black)
Setting: Heian Period (794-1185) Japanese fantasy, in the underwater palace of the sea god. Queer-accepting setting.
Summary: Inspired by the Japanese folk tale Urashima Taro. When the ship of the nobleman she worked for capsized, Itazaki Katsuko was expected to go down with it. Instead, she's rescued from her watery grave by the eldest daughter of the sea god himself. Tasked with being the princess' personal guard, it isn't long before they find themselves a little too close.
Being mortal, Katsuko's existence is only tolerated in the underwater palace. If anyone were to find out, there was no telling if the sea god would even give her the mercy of a quick death.
(Pictures aren't mine)
Asteria Heights
WIP Intro
Genre: Mystery, Suspense, Fantasy
POV: Third person limited
Warnings: Blood, descriptions of mild gore, mild violence
Setting: Modern-day gated community filled with magic.
Summary: A quiet, sleepy gated community is plagued by a sudden series of “Robin Hood” murders. While nervous, normal citizens felt relatively safe--until a seemingly innocent woman turns up dead. Now, the entire community is in a panic. Because Francesca Soren wasn’t just an innocent woman--she was also human.
And when Francesca’s family starts demanding answers, the residents of Asteria Heights, all various supernatural creatures who’ve spent their entire lives hiding in plain sight--are in danger of not only death, but of being discovered.
Perhaps the last person to ever be encouraged to get involved is Megumi Wilson, college student and witch. But something is odd about her neighbor Fran's murder, and when the police refuse to listen, Meg decides to take matters into her own hands, for Fran's sake.
(Pictures aren't mine)
Dreaming Of You In Violets | OCs Samantha & Bo
a/n: Samantha and Bo are two characters I made for their original story called Burnt Sugar which is completely different from their new story Dreaming Of You In Violets. I love my babies so much and want to share them here. It's just little snippets of their lives I'll be sharing. In Dreaming Of You In Violets, their book I'm slowly writing. Samantha and Bo go from Strangers to Friends To Lovers. If you want, you can ask me stuff about my OCs. 🥺
Snippet 1: the world moves a little slower when i'm with her.
Samantha
When I'm with Bo, the world moves a little slower when I'm with her. Time slows too. We sit on the back of her trunk in a half-empty Walmart parking lot sharing a cigarette, her fingers brushing mine when she passes it to me. While I smoke a couple of puffs, I stare at her fingers; they are slender, and her nails are short from all the bitting she does, she tries to keep them pretty with dark red nail polish, but she only picks away at the polish. She wore a golden wedding band that belonged to her mother and the initials of her father were tattooed on the side of her index finger. Her parents left her, but she still held little pieces of them close to her.
She rubbed her fingers against her blue denim jeans, and I wondered how her fingers would feel rubbing against me. The pad of her thumb gently pushing against my bottom lip or the soft dragging of her fingertips against my skin, stopping every so often to trace her name in the spots she wants to kiss later. I want to kiss all ten of her fingers. I want to make her face grow warmer.