@koshka
Active 1 day, 15 hours ago- Rank: Chosen One
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I’m very interested. I’m also on a crazy work schedule, so I’ll do my best to pop in to whenever y’all figure it out.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
I would be up for a writing call. XD
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Oh girl, that’s rough. I hate it when I want to write but can’t (or the evil nemesis, needing to write, but not wanting to).
As for when words won’t word…I don’t know if any of this will apply or be helpful, but, since I’ve always struggled to get words on a page, I’ve had to learn methods to get myself into writing. Specifically how I–as a human with brain and body–write best.
- I can’t just open a doc and try to type. That doesn’t work point blank. However, if I set my brain up for writing beforehand, I can usually start off with decent wording (for me this often looks like making a cup of tea, settling in with computer and notebook, sitting for a while with the screen off just thinking about my characters ect., then taking a moment to read over the last paragraph or two before trying to type.).
- I set a bare minimum limit of time spent. I can go over if I want, but the limit is there. Typically, it takes me about 15-30 minutes to get into writing/start a decent flow of words on the page.
- Low word goals, especially when getting back into writing. Seriously. If I get 200 words down in one sitting, I may not be thrilled, but I am satisfied. My usual goal for one sitting is 150. In January I went through two weeks where my goal was like 50 words just because I was trying to touch my writing daily.
Anyways…that was a long post.
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This reply was modified 1 week ago by
Koshka.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Thanks. XD He’s just a scared little hedgehog with all the prickles out.
Sounds good to me!
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
A little bored despite the late hour so here’s a ramble into this wild boy’s mental state.
Ari
Low lamplight painted the gold and crimson walls in a warm glow. Muted footsteps echoed off the polished floors.
Ari mounted the last few steps up to the floor with his personal quarters. A few other residents sprinkled the hallway in wandering clusters. Not too many people were eager to lock themselves away for the night. Ari brushed past them, ignoring the friendly looks a few of the newer students sent him.
They’d learn better. They always did.
His steps faltered. A man in a dull red tunic stood by his door. The yellow leather binding his boots up to his knees marked him as a runner–a trusted messenger that usually rode horseback despite his job description. From the amber shade of his hair, this was one of Ari’s mother’s people. The boy’s clenched jaw loosed in a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment then stepped clear of the last cluster of princelings.
Best get it over with the smallest disturbance to his life.
“Do you have something for me?”
The man stiffened to attention, then relaxed as he recognized Ari.
Well, relaxed wasn’t exactly the right word, but the man removed his hand from the knife in his belt. He bowed.
“Aye, your grace. A letter, sir.”
I really do look too much like my father.
“Thank you…” he drug out the last syllable into a verbal question mark.
The man simply bowed again. Ari smiled to himself.
Definitely one of his mother’s runners. He took the letter the man offered him and nodded to the hall.
“Wait here.”
Alone in his rooms Ari slit free the blob of red sealing wax sealing. His hands were steady, as he opened it. Familiar scrolling ink spilled across the parchment.
His mother missed him. Was proud of who he was meant to be. Demanded he write a reply to tell her of everything that had happened since he left.
Ari looked up from the letter, frowning. Movement across the room caught his eye. Dark blue eyes stared at him, eyes just like–he gasped.
But no. It was a mirror.
That’s you, Verenion.
He dropped the parchment on the table.
Maybe he should try another haircut.
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This reply was modified 1 week, 3 days ago by
Koshka.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
This sounds dangerous.
Certainly a sweeter boy than his half-brothers.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
GASPETH
Wow. The art is fantastic, but on a mug. Tis gorgeous.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Ari
His fingers brushed the next handhold. Just a little farther. He stretched, straining to reach the last inch till his gip caught on the rough circle. Good. He swung up, feeling out a higher foothold.
Sweat trickled down his back. Ari grinned at the sting of salt. Almost to the top.
Shouts below mixed with the squeak of shoes on tile. Swords skid and clashed at the other side of the gymnasium where the arms master drilled his students. Ari ignored the noise. Well, he tried to.
“Hey, sir, what are you doing without the safety harness?”
He swung up on the two foot platform at the top of the wall before looking down. A white faced man with a matching white shirt gaped up at him. Ari waved, then blotted the obnoxious adult out of his view with the tip of his soft boot.
Wasn’t like safety harnesses came in the wild.
Of course, a quick slide down a rope would have been useful when the half-hour till curfew bell rang.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
I love LeQroi
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Except I don’t feel like roleplaying as him right now so just imagine he’s sulking in his room.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
Wow. Okay. I love Remington so much.
However, he is influencing my sister. She just grabbed me by the shoulders and demanded I add a certain character because she believes it needs to happen.
And so, while I wait for the perfect moment to drop LeQroi’s next, here’s Ari, a character from the history of a WIP my sister and I have been developing for some time. Said histories were only mildly inspired by Silmarilion in that Tolkien made us deeply desire wild mythical histories except with good endings…(I see you Feanor). That said, back to Ari, a character I recommend taking with some caution because…well…he’s a bit wild (although it’s a bit too late for me, dear child). And also because I am terrible at remembering to keep up with role plays.
Ari
VerenionEagleson: Firstborn of Veren’s second wife, he has four older brothers whom he rarely gets along with. Having been born a few years after the Sundering, he is only now beginning to understand what their curse means. Angry, with a guilty sense of justice and struggling to maintain respect for his father, Ari is a bit put out about the world in general. He has thick black hair, blue eyes, a lean frame, and medium light skin tone as well as his father’s height. In fact, he takes after his father in looks nearly as much as in temperament–except for a greater dose of humility. Tends to cut his own hair in whatever method he thinks of at the time: it is currently cut roughly at jawline. Has a copper archer’s ring on his right thumb that he doesn’t know how to use. Terrifyingly good with a spear or javelin. He is sixteen years old and already contemplating disowning his family.Theme songs for him are Wolves of the Revolution by Arcadian Wild and Pale Moonlight by Gray Havens.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
…
*Shoves popcorn in mouth*
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
For those who wish, and for those who don’t.
LeQroi
The meal was over. At last.
Though too late to save his boots. Sugar crystals glinted in a cracking glaze, gilding what had once been supple leather. Shards crisped off smaller than ice shavings, sticky and sharp. Each step left a imprint of prickling glitter to catch the light. Le prix de la vie.
The soup turines passed his unwavering watch on their way back to the scullery borne by blanched faced kitchen maids. Empty. Every last drop eaten on unsuspecting spoons. A cool smile touched the Master Chef’s lips. His chocolate-drop eyes gloated. The infirmary physician would have a full night indeed. The old turnip.
His smile resembled a filet knife sunk in the heart of a sherbet.
What was a pair of sugar bronzed boots? Le prix d’une vie.
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This reply was modified 1 month ago by
Koshka.
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
I have read The Wolf Wilder. I am in love. It was beautiful. The feel was perfect–soft, rough, snowflakes and whimsy, gold and fur. And the end… *howls*. It’s been some time since I’ve read a new book with that level of perfection.
Thank you much for recommending.
*Sighs in wolf*
A cup of tea is cheaper than therapy.
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