Writers And Writing - Tumblr Posts

YOU might have microplastics in your blood stream but I have poetry and an iron deficiency coursing through my veins

How to come up with story ideas you actually want to write (its not writing prompts)

This is how I come up with a story by getting inspiration from things I already love (books, movies, shows, even pictures). Don't worry this isn't copying, this is mushing ingredients you love in a blender until you have your perfect smoothie.

If you are doing short stories choose scenes instead of whole stories.

You can also mix this with an idea you already have to help develop it

Make a list of your top 5 favorite stories you've watched or read recently (it doesn't have to be just 5, but you need at least 4).

Make a list of the 4 main elements of a story (genre, plot, characters, and theme)

Choose one story for each element. Wha is your favorite thing about that story? Maybe its the characters? The plot? Write it down.

Now use the genre, plot ideas (make sure its a basic version of the plot don't copy it word for word), characters, and theme to blend your smoothie into your own original story.

Writing prompts can be good ideas but they're an external event. Not a story. For that you need an emotional connection or a reason to care (for you and your readers). If you don't care why would your reader?

Let me know if you have any questions 🩷

Introduction

I should probably post one of these.

Hi! I’m quite new to Tumblr but I look forward to joining the writing circles here.

I’m not sure what kind of content I’ll end up posting but I intend for this to be a sort of blog where I can write about my progress and perhaps share snippets from my life. I might even end up posting scraps of my work from time to time. We'll see....

But mostly I want to interact with other writers cuz watching others work tends to motivate me so don’t hesitate to ask me anything or message me if you want to. 

It’s a bit difficult to navigate Tumblr since it doesn’t rely on likes like other social media platforms so I’ll just post my ramblings here and pray.

So with that out of the way, here’s a little bit about me.

I’m fine with any pronouns

I usually sign my work with “A.K” or “Amani” (pen name).

I like cats and all things sweet

I am VERY lazy like u cannot fathom how lazy I am (I should’ve been a cat). So I’ll probably be a lil inconsistent oops

That’s all! Thank you for reading! Here’s a treat

Man how do people get critique on their writing I'm getting desperate

When your "hobby" makes you wanna cry and never get out of bed

Sometimes my outline is just me yelling at myself

*lots of swearing*

I was having trouble naming a character so I named them after this comment on Pinterest

Heads Up Seven Up

Rules are to write the last seven lines you wrote and then tag seven people

Thanks for the tag @aohendo I'm passing this on to

@whimsyqueen @hymnonlips @cedar-west @aschlindartroom @fearofahumanplanet @asomeoneperson and @kiaraintheforest

It took me a WHILE to figure out which part to post but here we go. This is an excerpt from 'Cul de sac', a very self-indulgent piece that morphed from a short story into a hybrid into something I'm quite honestly frightened of. SO without further ado:

Children her age began to test the waters of their juvenile idiosyncrasies, overwhelmed by the prospect of adolescence at first before relishing in their youth. Meanwhile, the walls of the estate loomed over Hana. She turned the caterpillars into butterflies and made salt from rocks when asked, read her books when required and would often be found talking to various flowers. She was growing too old for dolls but she clung onto them as if she could stop time itself, perhaps having realised what the future held for her.

I thought I'd see ichor spill from your veins

but it's just red, hot blood

All this time you were human

yet you shamed my humanity

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

Asking everyone the same question cause I'm on a flashback kick with my characters. For whichever Blorbo you love most right now: What did they wanna be when they grew up? Were they ambitious or carefree? Did they reach their goal?

Thank you!!

I love all my Blorbos equally but I think for this ask I'll write about Zarah from "Usurped Thrones and Relentless Fates".

Zarah's life was already planned out for her when she was born. As a woman in the Royal family, her duties included looking presentable and getting married to whoever would benefit her family politically. She was reserved and didn't bother with having her own aspirations, knowing they'll only become fantasies one day.

However, when her father, the King, passes away under mysterious circumstances and two thieves agree to take her away, she suddenly begins to see the world in a new light, realising that perhaps life has more to offer than tiring duties and feigned pleasantries. It would have been a dream not long ago, to escape her world and avoid all consequences. But now that the opportunity has actually presented itself she finds herself reluctant to take it.

Thanks for the tag @aschlindartroom! This was so fun to do <3

Tagging (no pressure): @whimsyqueen @perasperaadastrawriting @cheywritesx  @papisnickle @bookish-galaxy @worldstogetlostin  @aohendo @moonscribbler @fearofahumanplanet @bardic-tales @pluttskutt  

Rules: use this quote generator & list as many quotes as you like using characters from your WIPs, then tag as many people as quotes you listed.

(Lot's of quotes for "Usurped Thrones and Relentless Fates" because unfortunately, I do have a favourite child.)

Aidah : Why would you do that?  Zarah: Because I feel guilty.  Reem : Guilt is a trick emotion. It’s put there by your parents to stop you from doing things that feel good. 

Aidah : Sometimes I like to place my hands on someone’s cheeks, look into their eyes...  Aidah : ...And violently jerk their head until it snaps.  Zarah: ...That took an unexpected turn.  Reem : So did their neck.

Reem , to Zarah: If you see Aidah , give them this message *makes a neutral face*  Reem : They'll know what it means.  *later*  Zarah: oh, and Reem said to give you a message.  Zarah: *makes a neutral face*  Aidah : Oh no. The neutral face of displeasure.

Aidah : Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Reem !  Zarah: So Reem knows about this?  Aidah , walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Zarah: So what, now I’m just supposed to do everything that Reem does? What if they jump off a cliff?  Aidah : If Reem were to jump off a cliff, they would have done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry. So yes, if you see Reem jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.  Zarah: You jump off a cliff.  Aidah : Gladly, provided Reem did first

Aidah : Oh Reem , we have a visitor!  Reem : Don't tell me it's Zarah.  Aidah : It's Zarah

Zarah: How high are you?  Aidah : Mm, I don’t know how to say it in feet.  Reem : No, they’re asking what drugs are you on.  Aidah : Oh, antidepressants, why?

From "Last Phase of a Sun"

Asura : Hopefully Yumi has learned a lesson about respecting other people's feelings.  Yumi: Oh, shut up and die Asura

Yumi: When you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.  Asura : Navy blue isn't your color.  Yumi: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Asura * 

Yumi: Wendy, we're hungry!  Marion: Wendy! What's for dinner?  Asura : We're hungry, Wendy!  Wendy, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams* 

(From Cul-de-Sac)

(Yes, he is only referred to as “father” throughout the story)

Father: Everything’s fine, Hana.  Hana: Father, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Introduction to my WIPs (so far)

Usurped Thrones and Relentless Fates

After the King’s sudden death, his brother takes the throne and, in an effort to appease the citizens and divert attention away from the suspicious circumstances of his brother’s death, he resorts to hosting events at the Palace where even those who aren’t part of the nobility are welcome. Aidah and Reem, a thief and an illegal mage respectively, take this opportunity to attempt a robbery at the Palace. Everything seems to be going according to plan until they stumble upon the former princess, Zarah, who convinces them to take her away with them under the pretence of “kidnapping” her, promising a hefty reward if they abide. Aidah and Reem agree and the three women find themselves having to live under the same roof. Despite their differences, all three of them wish to escape their current circumstances and end up forming an unlikely bond, all while carrying out dangerous heists and ignoring the fact that they will have to depart one day even as the day draws closer and closer.

Last Phase of a Sun

A dying Sun and an entire Kingdom that must find a place to relocate or they too, would die out. Such are the circumstances when two of the best soldiers in the Kingdom’s arsenal are sent to the cruel Faye King to request his help.

Cul-de-Sac

A girl crawls out of the earth one night and is taken by a man to live in his estate. She is told that she is not human, thus she will not be treated as such. There is a beast residing within her that she must tame so they can send her to live in the temple as a priestess, where she will live without ever showing her face outside. She is resigned to accept her fate but the thing inside her keeps rearing its ugly head.

Runway

By Amani

The crowd falls silent once the runway lights up and she watches from the small screen set up backstage, broadcasting the event life. A man in a boring suit and boring tattoos haphazardly placed around his face welcomes the audience, making jokes here and there, particularly keen to engage the crowd sitting in the front row. An equally unimportant but far better dressed woman stands beside him, her whitened teeth and the grand pearls around her neck fighting to outshine each other. 

     Backstage, her eyes are glued to the screen while somebody’s hands put a dress on her body and another hand fiddles with the stopper of her earring. She’s not helping them but she’s not getting interfering either so she doesn’t get reprimanded. And then finally, the man with the mic says something and points to him.

    Her heart pounds against her chest in excitement. She has confirmed his seat. The lights overhead suddenly go out and a wave of silence passes over the seated crowd as an upbeat song starts bleeding out into the air. A spotlight shines on one end and out emerges a winged woman walking on pointy heels, clad in white. From her big, doe eyes to the feathers stuck onto her wings, everything was meticulously arranged to make her look innocent, truly an angel on earth—if it wasn’t for the gun in her hand.

    She reaches the other end of the runway and lift her gun, the beat drops and a man in the audience pretends to fall with fake blood splattering around. Excitement ripples throughout the crowd with oohs and aahhs from the audience. The screen shows people getting up to take a closer look. And then another model does the same, and then another. Eyes still follow their walk but the applause has died down significantly, the element of surprise no longer there.

    Finally, a pair of hands push her to the entrance and she steps into the heat of the spotlight. They had vigorously run bleach through her jet-black hair till her scalp had started to burn, the pink skin peeking out along her forehead might be visible, she thinks, but given the way the plethora of accessories placed on her are glinting in the light, it’s probably not noticed by anyone. She walks just a little bit slower than the other models. Looking up at her man with wide eyes, her gun just a tad bit heavier than the other models’. She shoots precisely when the beat drops. The man falls back, a vivid red stain spreading onto the white fabric of his shirt. Some of the blood ends up landing on his wife’s gown but she doesn’t pay any mind to it, too busy clapping along with everyone else and letting out shrieks of laughter. 

    Honestly, she doesn’t know who that man was or what he did to his wife that made her hire a private assassin. She hasn’t been on the internet for a long time but everyone seemed ecstatic to see him being part of the act so he must’ve been well known. Whatever.

    As soon as she sets foot backstage her body is deprived of clothing and everyone’s attention is already on the next model. She walks away from the overcrowded backstage area, there is a clipboard held by a loud woman with dramatic curls who will call for her to get ready for her next walk in about ten minutes. But that doesn’t matter, the name on that clipboard doesn’t belong to her anymore, she’s already a different person.

Halfway through putting her shirt on, her phone buzzes with a notification. 

‘Transaction complete.’ Reads the text. 

Don’t contact me again, she comprehends. 

She hums on her way out, tossing her phone somewhere along the way and waving for a taxi.

How will they report this on the news? She thinks distantly once she has asked the driver to take her to the airport. What will they say about her? She doesn’t even have a name.