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Posts tagged with "writing"

Jim C. Hines » Fake Writer Girls!


"By now, I assume most of you are familiar with the Fake Geek Girl phenomenon, in which women’s geek credentials are repeatedly challenged, because everyone knows girls don’t like geek stuff. (Isn’t that right, Big Bang Theory?) It gets even worse if the woman in question is traditionally attractive, because even if we acknowledge the possibility of the occasional female geek, we all know she has to be ugly and socially maladjusted, right? Fortunately, we have men who tirelessly volunteer their time to challenge and harass these wannabes.

"Because do you know what would happen if we let Fake Geek Girls into the inner circle of geekdom? PURE, UNMITIGATED GIRL-COOTIES!

"Well let me tell you, Fake Geek Girls have nothing on the Fake Writer Girls. You know the ones I mean. Those women who think they can write stories and books that are just as good and important and serious as the ones written by us men. It’s almost like they don’t even understand that their work is inherently inferior, because GIRLS!”

Jim links get automagical reblogs from me!

25 Things You Should Know About Worldbuilding

Sep 6

14 Writers Handwrite Their Writing Advice on Their Hands. Click to see the rest.

(Source: referenceforwriters)


Sci-fi often starts rambling at the dinner table and gets these really weird, convoluted ideas about something and Science really wants to reach out and squeeze its hand and explain where its logic is flawed, but Science does so love to listen to Sci-fi talk. Even if much of it is complete nonsense, it often articulates it so beautifully and then, occasionally, it will say something absolutely brilliant and Science will be struck speechless, standing up abruptly and wandering off to spend the rest of the night thinking. Sometimes, in the morning, Sci-fi will wake to Science pacing across the bedroom floor, breathlessly excited to show off what it has created - an astonishing approximation/translation of what Sci-fi had been rambling about the night before. 

Often, Science will work really hard and fruitlessly at something for no real reason other than because Sci-fi thought it was cool - and Science loves making Sci-fi happy. In return, Science will sit down in the evening and discover that Sci-fi was paying attention to it and has done it homage in its latest paperback - something that delights and flatters Science so much that they have steamy sex all night long and produce thousands of inspired scientists and writers as offspring. 



Like I said, you should probably just quit writing.

If you read that and there’s some part of you that’s nodding along, great. Hey, listen, go be happy doing something else. Writing isn’t here to make you miserable. Why do that to yourself? Why do that to the rest of the world? Not everybody gets to be everything they want to be. I once thought I could be a radio DJ, a rock drummer, a cartoonist, a sex god, whatever. But as it turns out, my general sluggishness combined with an overly active imagination and paired with a propensity to a) drink and b) avoid pants seemed to add up on the Aptitude Test that is my life to one thing: writer. It may not add up like that for you. Maybe you’ll be a sex god. Or a monkey wrangler. Or the owner of the world’s only cat rodeo. Hell, maybe you just want to stay home and sit on your couch-imprinted ass and play video games all goddamn day.

Find your fucking bliss, dudes and dudettes.

If, on the other hand, this post fills you with a magma spout of rage that sears the back of your throat, good. Maybe you really are a writer. If your response to this is to shut down the browser, punch social media right between the 1s and 0s and open up your word processor and write the best fucking thing you’ve ever committed to paper, awesome. Hell, even if you open it up and write a relatively mediocre piece of crap that can be improved with effort, that too earns you a freeze-frame high-five because that proves that this is a thing worth doing. It’s not about talent. It’s about possessing the desire to do it and then the discipline and diligence to back it all up. You’re not born a penmonkey. You choose to be one.

So, make your choice.

I still love this man, in a totally not creepy/stalkerish way.

I think writers — people who basically work in a mental, solitary coal mine — need (a) sense of belonging to a group of like-minded souls.

- Robert R. McCammon (via briankeene)

“It’s the wolf at your heels. It’s the fire in your heart. Wolves bite. Fire burns.

Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it’s scary. Sometimes it’s hard and makes no sense and sometimes the frustration gets so bad you just want to dunk your head in a bucket of whiskey and hide your tears inside the liquid burn but, but, but –

Fuck it. Shut up! Write. You get your years and you get no more. These are your days… Oh, you have writer’s block? Boo-hoo! Writer’s Block has as much power as you give it — it’s a Weeping Angel, so bind it to the earth with your gaze.”

- Chuck Wending - The Hardest Writerly Truth Of Them All (via laurenbeukes)

Chuck Wendig, Reddit AMA


Hey! I’m doing an official Reddit AMA today over at Reddit Fantasy.

Go! Ask me anything! I’ll answer later tonight.

Chuck is great, go ask him about how he writes things or publishing through traditional channels, as an indie and how to kick ass as a Freelance Pen Monkey!

Signal boost: All POC anthology, with POC editor, proceeds to benefit POC Clarion students! SIGNAL BOOST PLEASE


Trying this again cause last time it only got 7 notes.


Clicky on the link or the pic to go to the full TOC!

Jan 6


Jorihiel stood at the edge of the roof and stared out over the city. Late afternoon light gilt the sharp edges of the surrounding buildings gold, silver and brass, turning the seemingly endless facades of glass into molten pools of light that made his eyes ache. The freshening wind bore the faintest tang of salt and he shuddered as the taste reminded him of the slender bodies being examined in the morgue below. He was no stranger to violence or death but that pair of saltwater wizened youths made his skin crawl even as righteous anger bubbled in his belly.

The faint squeal of rusty hinges and a crunch of loose gravel alerted him to Celista’s presence as she stepped out the dark stairwell to join him on the roof.  He didn’t bother turning around to face her, shoulders tensing beneath the soft fabric of his navy fog coat as the wind shifted just enough to engulf him in her warm, spicy scent as she came to stand next to him. His indigo eyes slid to the side, studying her as she took in the fiery vista. It was unusual for a Nephali living outside a tribe to appear so healthy and he wondered just what she was doing to manage the more physical manifestations of her gifts.

‘Leazil says the victims were definitely magically used and although she can’t taste the ritual, she found the seasoning of their terror delictible.’ She stared ahead blankly as she spoke, her hands gently chaffing the back of her arms despite the waves of heat that shimmered around them. ‘She’ll be busy doing the regular autopsy for a while and Miles is already looking through missing entity reports as well as calling Schroder about less formal complaints.’

The bitterness in her tone was not wholly unexpected but it still made him cringe inside. They both knew there was little chance of finding anyone to claim the bodies. It would fall to genetic tests and government records to restore the pair’s identities and even that was a long shot. There would always be tribal septs that eluded detection or wild manifestations of long dormant genes. Celista shrugged wearily as she turned back towards the roof access. ‘I suppose you will want to salvage what you can of your previous commitments.’

Jorihiel felt the weight of the past settle between them, a gaping rift that was still oozing and raw. It couldn’t be allowed to persist any further already having lead to the embarrassing scene in the station’s lobby, it was also a potentially fatal waste of mental and emotional resources. Celista had remained sealed tight during their time at the crime scene, only picking up the passive emotions around them. While he admired her control, Jorihiel knew she needed to be able to read people in depth in order to be an effective part of the investigation. ‘Actually, the lecture has been rescheduled for next week, so I was thinking of going out for a glide.’

‘I see,’ Celista sounded resigned as she started to walk back across the roof. He made a small, frustrated noise, she was making this more difficult than it had to be. She stopped and turned back to face him, ‘What?’

‘You should know what.’ He closed the distance between them in three strides.  His hands closed on her bare arms before she had a chance to try and step aside only tightening as she tried to pull away. ‘It’s not healthy for you to be closed off so tightly, Elis. I want you to come out with me.’

She stiffened under his touch, her evergreen eyes going a bit glassy with the effort to block him out.  Jorihiel gave her a little shake, ‘Stop that. You don’t need to hide from me Celista, I’m not some twenty-something rookie that’s going to end up with a sore wrist because I had the misfortune to annoy you.’ Wry amusement and concern coloured his words.