O Apollo, Why must you confuse me for a nymph? You chase after me, Lust in your eyes, But you turn into a narcissus flower when I cut my hair. I'm only a reflection in the pond that you chase after. You're pride. You're vanity. Even Artemis was better at the hunt and knew better than to let love in. What must I do so you don't drown? Must I disappear? Must I show you that it's your reflection? Stop the chase. I'll never cave and break the glass. O Apollo, See me not as a nymph But as a nymph and satyr.
- Reach 100K words in Deathchasers
- Start writing Following The White Tale
- Start planning out Gaitha
- Have 3 people on the team
- Write more poems
- Write more book reviews
- Write more reviews in general
- Make my own writing tips
- Post more excerpts
Hello readers! And welcome back to another installment of Being a Better Writer! A unique installment. For several reasons, in fact! And yes, it has to do with why there was only one post last week on the site. But first, just a forewarning that today’s post is the last installment of BaBW for the […]Being a Better Writer: Showing Small Character Details — Unusual Things
I found this article very interesting and helpful. If you’re a writer, maybe this will be useful.
Furthermore, I’m excited to announce that I will be posting some good things I find. And in addition, I’m looking for people to join the Shakespearian1 team. Please comment if interested.
Picking up from a scene in Avengers: Endgame, Loki follows the consequences of the God of Mischief’s mistake of picking up the tesseract but brings him on the adventure to learn what it means to be Loki.
To be honest, I watched the show because I am a fan of the character Loki. But that does not make me biased to the content. Right off bat, I will admit there were a few plot holes in my opinion.
For example, how Loki came to be an alligator is a huge plot hole. Even though the alligator provided comic relief in the penultimate episode, and is my favorite thing about the series, I feel like it could’ve been expanded upon.
Sylvie ended the season as my least favorite character. By now, I’m hoping you Marvel fans are able to handle this fact: in the end, Sylvie betrays Loki and kills He Who Remains. Now, I would’ve been fine with this happening had she not kissed Loki. Loki had a spectacular arc and almost found love, yet she didn’t trust his word and damaged the multiverse.
Sylvie is just as evil as He Who Remains. She’s bent on revenge against the Time Variance Authority (TVA). In the season finale, she finds He Who Remains, who is a lawful evil (at best).
Sure, Sylvie’s backstory was justified, but I kept rooting for her to have a change of heart. Thus, when she kissed Loki and pushed him into a portal, she became my least favorite character.
Ahh. We’ve come to one of my favorite characters. Mobius. Loyal to the TVA, but also rebelling and doing things his own way. If there’s a good/slightly morally-gray character I love, it’s him.
Not a lot is known about him other than the fact that he works for the TVA and is friends with the judge of the TVA. But this is justified because he doesn’t know his backstory, or how he came into the hands of the TVA. As shown with other characters, his memories of his prior life are so deeply hidden.
If there is a character that I can’t determine whether I like or not, it has to be her. She’s unpredictable. I can never tell if she’s good or bad. But I do like that in the end, she abandons the TVA for freedom.
Well, this has taken me months to concoct. I hope you enjoyed this review.
At the beginning of the month, I decided to make it my goal to write a total of 50K words for Deathchasers. I forgot to announce this last week due to business. Now, I hope you will support me as I try NaNoWriMo this year.
As of today, my word count is 20,289 words. I’ll keep you posted.
This week we tackle a monumental juggernaut of a topic: The Mary Sue.Being a Better Writer: The Mary Sue
For my upcoming novel, once I finish Deathchasers, I’m going to write an Alice in Wonderland retelling. This novel will be Following the White Tale. More info to come by the end of the year.
This is my protagonist Alice.
My eyes flickered open with a thirst for blood. It burned in my throat like something that couldn’t be satiated.
“Welcome,” said a British voice, growing louder and louder. “Welcome to my great ploy to turn you all into vampires.” Soon, I could feel a cold, icy breath against my neck.” You’re the first.”
“What’s your name?” I seized the vampire’s wrist, though he pulled back. Contrary to what the Internet said about vampires, he was pretty intense. I turned around to see glowing crimson eyes sifting through my soul for any sign of weakness.
“Reese.” What a strange name for a vampire. Even stranger: he yanked me to his frame and breathed into my face, “Don’t ever try to beat me again.” Without a second thought, he leaned into my lips, no permission. His fangs dragged my lower lips between his mouth.
It wasn’t a pleasant kiss. After all, I was seized, and I didn’t know how to respond. It felt like I didn’t have a choice but to sip Reese’s lips, which tasted like blood.
Betimes his tongue tried to slip into my maw, I pushed Reese away, saying, “Leave me alone,” as I raced for the door. Unfortunately, another vampire blocked the door.
“Leaving so soon?” asked the female vampire in a French accent, lifting the side of her lip into a curled smirk. She wore her hair in ginger spikes and hovered in front of me in a heavy black dress. Like Reese, she had glowing crimson eyes. “I’m Chloe.”
Before I could plan my attack, my friends barged open with wooden stakes, demanding my whereabouts.
I stared at the vines of ivy wrapping around the columns of the so-called Haunted House of Horrors in the dead of night. The brochure hadn’t said anything about ivy creeping through the crevices of the columns when we made plans.
My leather-clad hand wrapped around my friend Jasiri’s hand. “Are you sure about this?” I asked Jasiri. Her thick, ebony hair whipped in the wild wind. Mine, meanwhile, was covered in a headdress for Halloween. “I mean, it looks like the brochure hasn’t been updated for years.”
“Are you chickening out on us?” asked another one of my friends. The herculean Tarkan. He scoffed. “Typical Aria. So superstitious. I mean, you make a salt circle in front of your bedroom door.”
“At least she’s smarter than you two fools,” Jasiri retorted, placing her hand on her hips. “If this place is haunted, at least she knows what to do before she chickens out.” Oh, yeah … I forgot about Jared, Tarkan’s go-to man when he made a so-called “sick” burn. Jared wasn’t many for words. He just agreed with everything Tarkan said and laughed at everything in general.
“Heh,” Jared let out between laughs. “She called us fools.” I rolled my eyes. Why had we agreed to bring Jared along? He was dull as a fool. If Jasiri was right about one thing, it was that we had invited a fool to spend Halloween with us.
“Fine. I’ll go in.” I threw my hands in the air in defeat. I made my way past the columns and approached the door with two boards crossing each other next to the handle. “I am not a chicken.”
The three of them bawked like chickens. So, I kicked open the door, which was barely on its hinges. I turned to my friends.
“There!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Anger seared across my face. At the same time, a shiver spiraled down my spine. “Happy?”
“‘Go inside,” they all demanded. So, just to prove my friends wrong about me, I squeezed inside, cobwebs smearing across my face.
I looked around. Old stations glowed in melancholy. Candles flickered in dull orange flames. But something seemed unsettling. Something wasn’t right about the atmosphere.
Before I could glance over my shoulder, a pair of teeth sank into my neck. My ears began to ring. And the world faded to black before my eyes.
Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow.
Tulia is the protagonist of the first part of my series called The Deathchasers Chronicles. As the lead, she goes through many phases of arcs, and she is very powerful. You wouldn’t want to cross her for loyalty is what she values most in people.
Beware of your opinions on her.
My mother drove me four hours to upstate New York, where a prestigious drama academy known as the Hamilton Institute of the Fine Arts awaited me to step foot through the door. On the East Coast of the United States of America, Hamilton promised a path to fame and glory by making its passing students the most eligible applicants to Juilliard.
Heck, just thinking about it made me squeal with excitement as blurs of colors flashed past me. The people I would meet. The network of connections I would make. I was one step closer to fulfilling my purpose.
I could see my name popping against the general populace’s eyes: Tulia Gardner. Famous. Signed to a record label. Sold-out concerts. Everything I could ever imagine was just a brushstroke away. There was nothing that could stand in my way.
I was Tulia freaking Gardner.