I post things which make me smile! And writing... but not enough as I should
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Latest Posts by dark-blue-rainbows - Page 2
writer me: god i really don’t want to kill this character :(
me: then don’t? you can just keep them alive?
writer me: sounds fake but ok
me, creating another WIP and adding it to the pile: I have done good work this day
I'm a writer, which means I have 15 ideas, to which I have the beginning, the entire world, 3 unnamed charakters and the specific lines at the end
please remember that it’s okay to use popular tropes and clichés in your writing. just remember to make them your own, and put your own kinda spin on them.
don’t let yourself be stopped by what other people say you can or can’t do when it comes to writing. you are allowed to write about whatever you want, regardless of how popular it is in mainstream media.
edit: obviously, this doesn’t apply to harmful stereotypes, which is incredibly important that we do not write about! (thank you to @stormypaint for the reminder in the tags)
PART 2
Sorry it took me a while to get round to it, I’ve been pretty busy recently.
Thank you @all-usernames-are-taken for the ideas!
The pain went as rapidly as it appeared. The ringing in my ears disappeared with it. Shaking, I gripped the dresser below the mirror and stared in disbelief at my reflection.
‘It started so suddenly. I was fine, and then suddenly blood was pouring from my ears and nose.’
This couldn’t be possible. The leak from the lab happened three years ago — a virus could never live that long without a host.
But this was no ordinary virus, was it?
I grabbed my phone, and attempted to call the police. There was no signal. I tried to call my clients, the parents of Ava Stone, but I couldn’t reach them either. Part of me knew that that was probably a good thing: I couldn’t allow this virus to spread any further. The damage it was capable of was obvious.
Instead, I turned on my camera, and began to record. I explained everything which I’d discovered, and how important it is to prevent the virus from spreading. If anyone tried to find out what happened to me, hopefully this would be good enough to make my death worthwhile.
I put my phone away and left Ava’s house. Before I died, I wanted to do one last thing: to explore the government lab. The thrill of breaking the law even further filled me with excitement. After all, what did I have to fear?
The lab was about half a mile off the outskirts of the town. Like all of the other buildings, it looked run-down and neglected. The white paint was peeling, and the walls were dirty and yellowed.
I stepped back, then ran forwards and kicked the door with all my weight. All I achieved was a stubbed toe and a sore ankle. I turned my attention to the window. The glass was reinforced with metal, but the frame around it was old and decayed. I picked up a large branch from a nearby tree, and rammed it into the corner of the window, which shattered. I took of my jacket, and lay it over the remaining shards of glass. Then, I leapt up and shoved myself through the tiny window. I was only just small enough to fit — thank god I’d never had a growth spurt.
Inside the lab, it was just as derelict as the outside. Everything was covered in dust, so thick that I sneezed. I made my way through the abandoned rooms, instinctively trying to be quiet, even though I knew there was no one to see me.
Something in the corner of the a room caught my eye. It was a just cupboard, nothing particularly interesting, but something was off about it. Everything was dusty, except for the handle. Someone must have touched it recently.
I crept forwards and opened the cupboard. Instead of revealing shelves of equipment, it had steep stairs leading deep underground.
A secret underground facility underneath an abandoned government lab. Could this day get any weirder?
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, it became clear that this place was well looked-after. It didn’t smell of dust and decay; instead, it reeked of antibacterial spray. The corridors were shiny and white, and no cobwebs could be seen.
And I could hear movement.
I opened a random door and darted through it, hoping nobody saw me. Normally, I’d be more afraid, but what could they do to me? I was going to die soon enough, so I might as well finish solving this mystery.
I turned around and examined the room I was in. It was another corridor, shorter than the previous one, but instead of rooms on the side, there were cells.
Cells with people inside.
I clutched the wall, horrified. People? Real, breathing people in cells underneath a government lab? Maybe they were prisoners, but they didn’t look like prisoners. There were young children behind these glass walls. Dumbstruck, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit record.
Cautiously, I rapped on the glass of one of the cells, which held a middle-aged man. He sat up and blinked rapidly. He said something I couldn’t hear, then repeated it, this time screaming the words.
“Help me!”
People in the surrounding cells began to wake up and shout with him. I spun around, filming the scene, until I locked eyes with a young woman. I’d never met her, but I’d seen her picture many times.
It was Ava Stone.
Before I had time to comprehend this, her expression changed to pure terror. But she wasn’t looking at me.
“Turn around, Miss Walton.”
I turned around. A woman in a biohazard suit was pointing a gun at me.
“How do you know my name?”
She ignored me. “Hand me your phone.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I have a gun.”
“I’m going to die anyway,” I replied, with less certainty than I wanted. Ava Stone was alive, and so were all of these other people who I could only assume were from her town.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to be quite ill for the next few days, but you’ll survive. Now come with me.”
I followed her down the corridor, not knowing what else to do. She walked into a room and sat down, still pointing her gun at me.
“Sit.”
I sat.
“Why are you here?”
“Why are they here?” I replied.
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
“Why should I answer? You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“I’m not going to kill you. A dead body has no use.”
“Then why should I answer your questions?”
The biohazard suit covered her face, but I could feel her fury radiating off of her.
“How about this,” she said. “You answer a question, then I answer a question”
That was... actually a pretty good deal. “Sure.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was hired to investigate what happened.” I paused. “Why do you have a bunch of people in cells?”
“We’re trying to create a biological weapon. One which can wipe out entire countries in a day. We pretended the virus was leaked so we could test it on the town, assuming it would kill everyone. Everyone survived. We couldn’t just let everyone leave after what happened, so we adapted our facility to make it look like it was abandoned.”
“That’s inhumane! What do you do with all these people? There are young children!”
“It’s my turn to ask a question. I watched the videos on your phone. How did you figure out what happened?”
“I found a diary. It talked about how there was a leak from the lab and everyone was getting ill.”
“Where is this diary? Do you still have it?”
“My turn,” I said. “What do you do with all these people?”
“We test our viruses on them,” she replied, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. “Now, WHERE is the diary?”
“Ava Stone’s house. 32 Shortbrew Lane. What are you going to do to me?” A dull ringing noise echoed in my ears.
“We’ll test viruses on you, like we do with everyone else. It would be interesting to see how people from different areas and with different races are affected. I can tell that the virus has a faster reaction on you than it does with most people. In fact, from the dilation of your irises, you’ll probably pass out at any moment.”
The ringing noise was getting louder. My head throbbed, and the walls were swaying. The floor reached up to meet me and everything went black.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on a pristine, white bed in a pristine, white cell; and, ew, I was wearing different clothes. The ringing in my ears had disappeared.
The sound of gunshots woke me up properly. Shouts echoed down the corridor, and to my surprise I saw police freeing everyone from their cells. Even more surprisingly, they were accompanied by Mr and Mrs Stone, who were hugging their daughter.
When my cell was unlocked, I raced over to them. “What’s happening? Why are you here?”
“You’ve been gone for a week, so we contacted the police,” Mrs Stone said. “They saw the broken window in the laboratory, so they followed your trail and found all this!”
“We can’t thank you enough.,” Mr Stone said. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have found Ava.”
A young man came over me and held out his hand. I shook it politely.
“Hello Miss Walton. My name is Adam Haider, and I am a government official. I have some questions for you about what you’ve discovered.”
“Do you know about the virus?” I asked.
“That’s what I came to ask you about. The—”
“Has anyone left the town recently?” I interrupted him urgently.
“Uh, yes, of course, to inform—”
“The virus is STILL HERE. You need—”
Adam Haider’s radio buzzed. He picked it up.
“What is it? I’m busy,” he snapped.
The voice from the radio replied, “Sir, this is important. Our men are bleeding out of their ears and noses, and some have passed out.”
“Shit,” Haider muttered.
“That’s not all, sir. This has been reported in nearby towns — towns which we sent soldiers to after they examined the area.”
Adam Haider dropped the radio. At first I assumed it was out of shock, but when I saw his face I realised I was wrong.
Blood was trickling out of his ears and nose.
On November 19th, the population of the town of Warmosa vanished. No explanation was ever given by officials and the town was eventually closed to the public.
You‘re a private investigator hired to find the truth behind the event. After trespassing into the town, you find a private journal detailing the events that took place on the days leading up to the disappearance.
if ur going to write, just write
what are u waiting for
no but seriously, if ur procrastinating right now instead of writing, this is your friendly neighborhood blog telling you to GO WRITE
in fact, every time you come across this post on your dash, GO WRITE
When I open a blank word document and my story hasn't started itself ⬆️
When I open my WIP after two weeks of not writing and it hasn’t finished itself:
If anyone wants to tell me about their plot, characters, or anything really then I'm happy to listen!
I REALLY want to talk about my new plot idea (not sure whether to write it as a screenplay, story, or save it as a comic idea) but at the same time, I really don’t want to bother anyone hsbsbsb🥲
Today's mood:
The only thing messier than my room are my stories-
“Shout out to everybody who’s trying to get their life together. Working on yourself is the hardest part of life. The rest comes after.”
— Unknown (via quotefeeling)
me: okay time to work on the main plot of my story
also me: *plans an extremely detailed entire four-part series as some kind of AU of said story and forgets about the main plot entirely*
Me: *is the writer*
Me, after I write a twist: oh shit! I did not see that coming!
bonus points if someone comes in and interrupts you and you have to start all over.
I found this really interesting!
'Marketing is hard! Hiring an editor is expensive! Amazon doesn’t like erotica!'
An interview with indie author Ai Love!
You'd better not miss reading it. 🙂
I'll save my homework for tomorrow then 🤷♀️
“Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone.”
— Pablo Picasso (via meineluft)
Every writing advice post: Just write! Don’t look back! First drafts are meant to suck! Edit later!
Me, re-reading the whole paragraph every time I add another sentence: What was that?
The town was eerily quiet. Only the sound of crickets chirping disrupted the silence which surrounded the town. Empty, derelict buildings loomed over me as I stumbled around in the darkness.
I didn't want to be here, but I was hired by a couple who wanted to find out what happened to their daughter. She'd lived here, and disappeared like everyone else in the town of Warmosa three years ago. I didn't want to take the case, but I was offered a lot of money, which could easily pay for rent for the next few months.
Still, it was a stupid idea. I wasn't even supposed to be here — the town had been closed to the public ages ago, so technically I was trespassing. Oh well, there's no one here to arrest me anyway.
Finally, I reached the house I was looking for: the house belonging to Ava Stone, the daughter of the couple who hired me. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Sighing, I stepped back and kicked the door as hard as I could. It swung backwards, smacking against the wall beside it.
The stench of animals made me gag as I walked into the house. Rats scurried around by my feet. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the living room. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting there, just an old sofa and a dusty TV. I tried to switch it on but the screen remained black.
The kitchen reeked of food which had gone off. I opened a cupboard and screamed silently as a stream of rats charged out. Shaking, I left the kitchen and decided to have a look upstairs.
The bathroom was covered in black mould. The sink was cracked and the toilet had no water in it. Disappointed in the lack of evidence, I hurried into the bedroom, the last room left.
The bedroom looked like it had been ransacked. The draws had been hurled open, with belongings littering the floor. From the looks of it, this must have happened ages ago, since everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. I put on a pair of rubber gloves, knelt down and began to examine the room.
Underneath a pile of dirty, dusty clothes, lay a diary. The pages were yellow and stuck together from age, but the writing was still legible. Hands quivering in anticipation, I opened the diary and read the first entry.
“Dear diary,
My parents bought me this for my 18th birthday! I’m probably a bit too old for a diary, but it’s nice of them to give me one. After all, it’s the thought that counts. I’ve never been able to keep a diary as a child, but I suppose that’s because nothing interesting ever happened to me. You never know, that might change!
I have to go to uni soon. I’m already running late. When I get back, I’m going to go to the bar with my friends!
—Ava”
I skimmed through the diary, trying to find something useful. It was mostly about school or her girlfriend, but by the time it got to October, things began to get interesting.
“Dear diary,
A government lab has been built on the outskirts of out town, and people are getting really pissed off. Conspiracy theories are spreading around, for example: apparently, a biological weapon is being created in the lab. It’s probably nonsense, people in this town like to talk a lot. The problem is, this is supposed to be a tourist town, but nobody’s gonna come if people think that coronavirus 2 is being created. It doesn’t really affect me, since I’m just staying here because the rent’s cheap and it’s close to uni. In fact, the rent’s become much cheaper now, which is great!
—Ava”
A government lab... how did I not know about that? In fact, I don’t think anyone knew about it. Heart racing, I turned to the next page, dated November 18th.
“Dear Diary,
I’m really worried. There’s been a leak from the lab. Nobody really knows what leaked, but it has to be something important. We’re not allowed to leave the town, not even for uni, which is ridiculous. Phone lines have been cut, so we can’t contact anyone, and the internet’s off. We can’t even send a bloody letter either. We’ve been told that there’s nothing to worry about, but why have they placed all these restrictions? It’s like they don’t want anyone to find out what’s happening.
—Ava”
There’s one last entry left: November 19th. The day everyone disappeared.
“Dear diary,
I’m ill. Everyone’s ill. I can barely pick up the pen to write. There’s only a couple of doctors in this town, but they’re probably ill too. Nobody’s ever seen anything like this before.
It started so suddenly. I was fine, and then suddenly blood was pouring from my ears and nose. From the screams of other people, it was clear that the same thing was happening to them.
Rumours are spreading around again, about the biological weapon. This time, I’m not as sceptical. It’s pretty much common knowledge now that the thing which leaked yesterday is what’s causing us to be ill.
There’s nothing we can do. We can’t go anywhere: there’s literally soldiers outside everyone’s house. They’re wearing fucking biohazard suits. I heard a gunshot earlier. I don’t know who was shot, but they’ve probably had a faster death than what everyone else is gonna have.
I feel like shit. I could probably collapse at any moment. If only I picked another university, then I wouldn’t be staying in this shitty town, dying from a government experiment, listening to the screams of people next door. It hurts so much. Everything hu”
That’s where it finishes.
The soldiers must have disposed of the bodies once everyone died. Nobody knew about the illness since there was no way the people in Warmosa could have contacted anyone. People must have gone through each house, disposing of all evidence explaining what happened in the town. But they missed Ava Stone’s diary.
Damn. I’m going to become so famous for this! My case will be all over the news, where everyone can see how I solved it! Finally, my career as a detective will take off! I’ll be like Sherlock Holmes!
A sudden ringing in my ears interrupted my thoughts. Almost swaying from the pain, I stumbled towards the mirror in Ava’s bedroom. I clutched it with trembling hands, and watched the streams of blood trickling out my ears and nose.
On November 19th, the population of the town of Warmosa vanished. No explanation was ever given by officials and the town was eventually closed to the public.
You‘re a private investigator hired to find the truth behind the event. After trespassing into the town, you find a private journal detailing the events that took place on the days leading up to the disappearance.
*me writing fic*
me to me: don’t use the word eyes, you just used it in the previous sentence. use something else
my inner me to me: no, don’t call eyes orbs, it’s cringey
my deeper inner me to me: call them face balls
This is how I come up with ideas for stories/poems!
I do my best thinking at night when everyone else is sleeping. No interruptions. No noise. I like the feeling of being awake when no one else is.
— Jennifer Niven, All the Bright Places
A quick list of things you are not:
damaged goods.
a burden.
worthless.
a failure.
stupid.
a waste of space.
weak.
a lost cause.
alone.
I've been on tumblr for three days and I can already tell
twitter is a hellsite (derogatory) and tumblr is a hellsite (affectionate)
Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.
— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
Imagine if we lived forever,
Time goes on but we're frozen like ice.
Childhood pets would be here til the end,
Family with you all your life.
Young children would never grow,
People in a coma stuck in a limbo
Between life and death, not alive
But not given the relief of passing away.
Young people are free forever
But that teen mother with three kids
Is chained to them for infinity;
She may physically live forever
But her life ended a long time ago.
And what about when the sun expands,
Consuming the earth and we're left
To float in nothingness, torn from
Limb to limb, pain without death,
Is this nature's punishment for us?