I have seen many criticize jk and say that it does not have good worldbuilding and etc. Although it is true that it has many plot holes, I feel that jk is not such a bad writer,I feel like she knows how to make a very interesting and mysterious background,I feel like she understands the tone very well and knows how to create things based on this tone,I think she knows how to use the folklore she knows and weave it into her own world.

But I want to know what you think, do you think she is a good writer?

Hi. I have been creeping on this sub for a good long while and don't recall ever posting but have commented on some posts sparsely.

I have been writing on and off (mostly off for past year and a half) for some time and gathered myself lots of "shorts". Basically disconnected chapters with possibly open ends and obviously not finished pieces as well.

I am wondering how OK would it be to post a collection of works as a single post or should I spread them out over few days to not flood the frontpage.

Sorry if the question is dumb. I realise there are clear critique rules but somehow this feels to fall in between a bit.

Thank you for your time.

Hello!

New writer here. Decided to start putting the words flowing in my head to paper. I do it mostly because I enjoy writing about the ideas and characters I have made up, and just want to tell their story. Looking for critique mostly on pacing and prose. I feel like I haven't really found a prose yet, but that be me just overthinking it. Also, slightly worried I do not have a more mature tone like a lot of other writers, and would like to get a gauge on if my writing feels too immature. My writing is heavy influenced by the books I read, and is more of a romantasy. My goal is for the book to be about 100k words in total, so this is just the beginning!

Any criticism is welcome :)

The blurb:

Survival is the one thing on Kuras mind. Survival of herself, but more importantly, her adopted family. Winter is fast approaching her village, circling like a vulture ready for its prey to finally bow to death. They must stock food for winter, or her, her brother Tobias, and her mother Esther, will not survive. Kura's adopted family means everything to her, and when she is abruptly ripped from them on her twenty-third birthday, kidnapped by a strange golden man with elongated ears, her world is turned upside down. She awakens to discover that Ivor, the third-year assigned to her, had brought her to the Kingdom of the Sun, a large floating island in the sky that forever chases the sun. That, and she is Fae. The treaty between the mortals below, and the Fae above, a result of the war over four-hundred years ago, states that the Fae shall send their young below, before they undergo their immortal transition called The Sidhele, to learn human customs and to gain mortality they might not receive from their immortal Fae parents. But Kura doesn't care about any of this. Why did it have to be her? Who are her real parents? And most importantly, how does she get back to Tobias and Ester? However, Kura is not allowed to leave the island until the end of the summer solstice, when her abilities, if she is even gifted any from A'tharya, would manifest. The only thing, or rather, person, standing in her way is Ivor, who is tasked with guiding her through her first year at Alenor Acadamy. But she won't let him stop her, or anyone else for that matter. Kura will get back to them, one way or another. To the moon and back, always.

The Link:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ia77Z5c8t6F_Z4CZvr4__Sax771HKYGbezS6RVXCx_M/edit?usp=sharing

​

edit: grammer

​

Hello!

I am working on a character who'd activate their ability by drawing blood on the enemy and acquiring their blood, as little as a single droplet. What would be the best weapon to go about this, especially since the character shouldn't have expertise in combat all that much.

Knife/dagger throwing feels like a good choice, but I want to ensure the character can get the blood in her hands. Some sort of boomerang might work but wouldn't be sharp enough.

What would you recommend for this, considering the aim would be drawing and acquiring blood as fast as possible to end the fight?

Thank you!

I'm on my final edit of the novel i have been working on. I love it, but I'm having issues finishing it off. Of course I want to write more in this universe and have plans for characters further down the line, but I'm worried about it being considered an unfinished series.

I have big ambitions for the series, which is why I want to hone my skills some more. Also after working on it for so long, I'd rather focus on other stuff, shorter and faster to write so that it can start bringing in some money. That means potentially years before the "sequel" is released, although this novel was always meant as a prequel. The next installment wouldn't really require the prequel to understand it.

Broad strokes of the plot: ship is lost in space, a newcomer comes aboard and offers to save them (bring them back to civilization), some politicking ensues, they build a portal on board and beam them off to newcomer's ship, where they will be harvested for resources. MC1 dies, MC2 is brainwashed into joining newcomer, MC3 is left on the ship to die alone.

At this point I want this story to be finished, but I fear it's not as satisfying. It's a tragedy for sure, but I feel it's missing things in the end. That's why I have two epilogues, one from newcomer who introduces their organisation, which is central to the overarching plot of my universe. The other is from MC3 pov, who manages to teleport himself to a sand planet, collapsing in the sun and being watched by a mysterious silhouette. Both central to the overarching conflict, and I do have some outlines of how the stories are going to unfold from there.

My issue is that I feel like even if this novel gains any traction, the readers are going to give up if I don't put anything out for years. But due to the fact how much time it took me to write this one, I really want to tackle it when/if I ever become a full time writer.

Am I just freaking out and overthinking this? Does it even matter at the end of the day? I just feel like I went about it the wrong way and spent years of my life on this novel that should be done later on, at least.

Hi there! I'm taking my first shot at writing a novel, and have had an idea for a pirate story in my head for a while. The idea is that the two main characters are female (aka the first mate and captain). I'm considering the possibility of a sapphic romance between the two, but am not quite set on it yet. I'd like to write it as a series of adventures between them and the crew with a larger plot tying each section together.

All that context aside, what are some common pitfalls when it comes to writing pirate fantasy novels? I expected female leads to be more rare in pirate novels, but in looking into it there seems to be quite a lot of them being published lately. How could I set my novel apart from the rest? What do you all think a reader might like to see in a novel? Again I'm still in the brainstorming phase, so I don't really have the main plot or any of the specific adventures planned out, so any advice/ideas would be much appreciated :)

I always slurp when I eat soup. For some reason, I enjoy it better this way. In fact, there are articles that say that way of eating soup makes it taste better.

However, when someone read this sentence from my manuscript She started slurping her soup, they asked Are her poor table manners important to the story?

Do you agree that sentence makes my character come across as a disgusting slob or someone with poor manners?

If so, what would you replace slurping with? Eating? Sipping? Other?

Okay, I'll try to make this as simple as possible (also, ‘hey, how are you doing?’).

Simply put, I am really enjoying high fantasy and urban/modern fantasy as of late. I think there's so much to play with on either front, from building your world from the ground up or simply taking history into a new, fantasized direction.

As a (struggling) writer myself, I have so many ideas stored up on how I would go about crafting a high fantasy novel or an urban fantasy one.

Which got me thinking….

If one wanted to go about blending high fantasy with urban fantasy, how would they do it? And I don't mean just magi-tech or advanced elf civilizations with plasma rifles. I mean fully blending that epic charm of high fantasy with the appeal and semi-modernity of urban and modern fantasy.

Which led me to some ideas, blending some things that I really love. (Myth, History, World Cultures, etcetera).

So…..

What if every single conceivable civilization, culture, kingdom, empire, location (and more) of every culture, mythology, legend, fairytale and, of course, history, was reborn and/or reimagined in the modern world?

Aztec civilizations reborn anew, with the same flare and vigor that doesn't seem to have aged a day; Atlantis, the pinnacle of the sea, at war with Lemuria - two underwater realms at eternal contention; forests that house the kingdoms of elves and orcs, along with Sherwood Forest too.

Or

Think of the Roman Empire reborn as a criminal organization, ruling with an iron fist over that which is physical, knowing that even they, in all their might, have not the same dominion over the ‘underworld’ that certain rulers of the Underworld do; Wonderland reborn as the lavish Wonderland Casino and Hotel, which may or may not be selling the drug aptly known as ‘Wonderlust’ on the side; and the isle of the Amazons reimagined as an all female sanctuary and bordering school, promoting womanly might (while literally promoting womanly might).

But I don't mean just a pick and choose here- I mean the entire thing. Culture, history, landmarks, and specific eras and time periods, all of them reborn separately. (The Edo may be one period of Japan reborn in this world, but it's not the only one.) A civilization isn't just reborn with locations, though, (locations aren't exactly fixed in this world. That is, they can crop up anywhere, not exactly fixed to their historical places), but they are reborn in their entirety. Culture, stories, legends, they now walk the earth, living and breathing and real and flesh and wonderful, but only because the civilizations that birthed them are back.

Which leads us to this:

A kingdom is only as important as the people within it. Thus, along with the civilization (or kingdom, place, empire) being reborn, races, figureheads, people connected and associated with that place, and even gods, creatures, mythical beings and more ... .they are all real, too. All walking the earth, tied to their legendary nature or lineage and, more importantly, to their kingdom (even if they don't fully understand it).

Leonidas may be reborn as a teenager, with a rage and prowess in battle that seems to drive him, most times into trouble; Sun Tzu could be a corporate warrior, extending his martial prowess and magic to the world of business; Gilgamesh could be a bitter king, upset at the lack of reverence and remembrance for Sumeria, which drives him (now reborn) on a quest not solely for his own immortality, but for the immortality of his kingdom, his civilization, his people; The Leviathan could swim in the seas, his presence a challenge in and of it's self to the World Serpent; Cyclops might be military men of valor; Aesop could be a semi-senile old man, surrounding himself with his magical animals and even more magical stories.

But even in this seemingly modern world, not everything is normal or mundane; however, the mundane may hide the magical.

This is what I mean by blending high fantasy with urban fantasy. I don't just want ‘demigods are reborn, they have a remote summer camp, they travel the world, they sometimes do magical things and fight magical monsters, but it's usually against an urban backdrop or in some urban place.’

I want something different. I want that epic, magical feel of high fantasy but in a modern world. I want castles populating city streets where the literal Acropolis may stand, in all of it's glory, on the other end of the block. I want dragons flying overhead while Spartans supplex Kaiju. I want elite Reaper Squadrons employed by the Department of Death and Eternal Affairs to be sneaking around, reaping souls and transporting them back to HQ to be booked and processed and then handed over to Psychopomps to be led to their respective afterlife realms.

But how do I do this?

How do I blend high fantasy with urban fantasy in this way?

I don't really know where to start.

And I'm particularly stuck on how I should go about any of this, really. Should I have a veil put over the eyes of ‘normals’ so they can't see the magic and the wonder? Should I have all of this be common knowledge, easily seeable, obviously there, and have the reborn kings and queens and such be the celebrities of this world? Should I have specific civilizations or realms or places be set in specific locations? (that is, where they were before? Like the ruins of Askum be placed in Africa?) Or should I spread it out all over the world, dragging and dropping places into a patch quilt work that resembles the diversity of our real world? Where samurais battle mechanical sphinxes in Egypt and Spartans find themselves battling against Native American creatures?

My question, I guess, is: How should I go about this? How would I do it? Where do I even begin to develop this idea, how do I make it more high fantasy?

Even: Is this idea even worth trying to flesh out?

Here for your disassembly is a query for THE STUDENT PRINCE. As you can see from my previous drafts, r/pubtips has thoroughly torn me apart, but I want to run it by this community, which I have found pretty helpful.

It's the first 350 words since 300 would end awkwardly in the middle of a sentence.

Recommendations for comps are appreciated!

Previous draft (1)
Previous draft (2)
Previous draft (3)
Previous draft (4)

Bentir never asked to be a companion to a prince. He would have much rather spent his days training horses and reading ancient tomes with his equally academically-inclined friend Lavvie. Ironically, it’s this same indifference to court politics that makes the two ideally suited to see Prince Kelen to the University. Since students are immune to secular law, there’s no way Kelen’s traitorous uncle will be able to force the young heir to wed the daughter of his father’s killers. All that stands in between Bentir and living a peaceful life of the mind is Kelen’s uncle colluding with his enemies to take over the kingdom… and, in the process, kill all three of them.

Setting off for the University, Bentir and his companions are soon forced off-course by a team of vicious assassins. Joined by an unexpected addition to their number whose tongue proves as sharp as her knife, they narrowly escape a seaborne raid, only to be shipwrecked on a perilous island. As the calendar counts down to the last day on which Kelen may be admitted to the University, they find themselves in danger of being sacrificed to ancient gods and are only able to win their way free with their knowledge of ancient history and a good deal of luck. Marooned in the realm of their enemies and held hostage in a castle to force Kelen’s marriage to their foe’s daughter, they escape once again by deploying their wits, cunning, and skills with a blade. Finally delivering their charge to the University, they face a final confrontation with the forces aligned against them.

THE STUDENT PRINCE is a low-magic fantasy in which the stakes are both personal and political, the focus is equally on relationships and action, and the protagonists use their intelligence to achieve their ends. It has been compared to [comps here–reading recommendations welcome!]. It is complete at a fast-moving 100,000 words. I have previously been published in Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland’s DODO CHRONICLES, and have written the introductions for Thunder Bay Press’ best-selling series of leather-bound classics, including GRIMMS’ FAIRY TALES, THE ARABIAN NIGHTS, and HP LOVECRAFT TALES OF HORROR. I am also the author of a dozen academic nonfiction books (one of which Neal wrote the foreword to), hold a PhD in medieval history, and am a real-life fencing master and jouster.

Thank you for your time,

Ken Mondschein

​

First ~350 words:

Bentir was not where he was supposed to be.

“Are you sure it’s all right?” Lavvie asked nervously. Even secreted away in the top story of the Old Keep, they could still hear the clanging of heavy, blunted steel swords and cries of pain and triumph through the leaded glass windows.

“I’ve not been caught yet,” Bentir answered with an assurance he did not feel. “Besides, even if I feel this problem of natural philosophy is likely to stave in my brain-case, it’s undoubtedly healthier than actually getting my head bashed in down in the practice-yard.”

The library in which they sat had a vaguely ecclesiastical air owing to it having been a chapel before its annexation by the castle magisters. Now, rather than incense, the air was perfumed with the vinegary smell of old parchment, and the haloed faces of saints carved in the impossibly long and thin fashion of centuries past peered out from between the cabinets to which the books were chained. One of these chains tethered the tome spread out before Bentir and Lavvie on the reading desk. It was opened to a curious diagram of a circle with columns of numbers inscribed around its circumference—an image that showed how the ancient philosopher Pentathlos had calculated the circumference of the globe.

“Getting lashed if you’re caught would not be salutary, either,” Lavvie pointed out. “Would that you were an apprentice-magister like me, rather than a cadet at the Academy…”

“... but alas, I am not, and so my life is a constant ordeal. Don’t worry–the worst they’ll do is put me on bread and water for a week again. Now, could we please concentrate on the problem at hand? If Pentathlos knew the distance between the cities of Alexandropolis and Swenet was 5,040 stadia, and the difference between the length of the shadow of the measuring stick at the two locations at noon on the solstice was one-eighth of a cubit, then the difference of the angle was seven and two-tenths degrees..."

Bentir never had the chance to finish his calculation, for at that moment, the heavy oak door crashed open, revealing the angry form of Vlek Thisborne, the fencing master under whose tender ministrations he was supposed to be at the present moment.

​

Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1S7lt3Yicdn3S1UlLocwMOLw8e54sFPQ9h2CU3vfJE70/edit?usp=sharing

Excerpt [345 words]:

The first memory that he possessed was of flames and blackened, broken stones.

Screaming. Shouting. The tight grip of what he assumed to be a mother’s arms.

Jagged, broken chest plates covering yellowed skin. The stench of burnt and rotting flesh intermingling. A lullaby whispered in a tongue he did not understand.

There was one, final detail…

A knight, black as void itself. The cold touch of his gauntlets as he was taken from the woman who screamed in anguish and despair, wailing inconsolably as the first sentence of his brief existence was spoken.

“Haïsh kor mik horomin.” All became darkness, then, and the first of many dreams began.

Thaïdar knew that he was not of these folk, the Ischim. He was slightly taller and of paler complexion than their average, and his eyes did not appear to perpetually squint as theirs did.

More than that, they were the ones to name him Thaïdar, a word that meant “The Gifted One”.

He sat opposite to his nurse in the scarlet tent that they shared. She was a slave woman, treated brutally by her captors but always kind to him nonetheless. Her hair was the colour of dragon fire, and her eyes were a vivid lagoon of colours. She was hardly older than him, really; half a decade, no more. The previous nurse had been her mother, also a slave, and one who had eventually succumbed to disease

“They have told me that the dragon rider will come for you this night.” Her words were soft, seemingly lamenting his imminent departure.

He had few clues as to who said dragon rider was, but the Ischim seemed to almost revere him. On occasion, throughout the years, Thaïdar had even seen the distant silhouettes of dragons cast their shadows over the grassy steppes as they circled in the blue sky. The Ischim called them the servants of the skyfather, and never spoke ill of the great beasts. His nurse was less fond of the creatures, and often spoke of them as if they were to be greatly feared.

________________

Just want some feedback on the prologue, because I suck at writing dialogue, quite frankly.

Welcome to our Monthly Self-Promotion Thread! This is your special realm to share and shine. Whether you're a seasoned author or just starting your writing journey, we're excited to celebrate your creativity.

📖 What can you share here?

• Your latest fantasy novel, short story, or even a captivating blog post.
• Updates about your writing progress, book launches, or upcoming events.
• Links to your blogs, websites, or social media where we can follow your work.

🌈 Guidelines to Keep in Mind:

• Be respectful and supportive of your fellow writers.
• Provide a brief description of your work for others to understand what it's about.
• Feel free to engage with other posters, offering encouragement or constructive feedback.

The thread will be refreshed monthly, so don't forget to mark your calendars!

Happy Writing! ✍️

Elements of Eloquence: Regular thread that happens on the 1st and 15th of the month.

To write a good story, you have to tell a good story. That means using clever sentences to engage and thrill the reader. From Brandon Sanderson’s straightforward prose to Joe Abercrombie’s gritty descriptions to Patrick Rothfuss’s lyrical paragraphs – all the great fantasy authors use rhetorical tricks to give their prose spice. In this series, we’ll explore these tricks one by one and apply them to our own writing. For those who want a textbook, we’ll be using The Elements of Eloquence by Mark Forsyth, but you should be fine without it.

Today, we’re studying anadiplosis (an-uh-dip-low-sis). Before I give you a definition, here it is in Patrick Rothfuss’s Name of the Wind:

• Now Taborlin needed to escape, but when he looked around, he saw his cell had no door. No windows. All around him was nothing but smooth, hard stone. It was a cell no man had ever escaped. But Taborlin knew the names of all things, and so all things were his to command. He said to the stone: ‘Break!' and the stone broke.

Anadiplosis is when a word or phrase at the end of a sentence or clause is repeated at the beginning of the next sentence or clause. This technique creates a link between the ideas.

• Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. — Star Wars
• The general who became a slave. The slave who became a gladiator. The gladiator who defied an emperor. — Gladiator
• Suffering breeds character; character breeds faith; in the end, faith will not disappoint. — Jesse Jackson
• Strength through purity, purity through faith — V for Vendetta

​

Anger wants a voice

Voices wanna sing

Singers harmonize

'Til they can't hear anything — Harmony Hall by Vampire Weekend

In the above, you may have noticed a distinct pattern, whereby one concept leads to another, which leads to another, and so on. Most of the famous examples of anadiplosis follow this format, not because it’s the best, but because it draws a lot of attention to itself, making it memorable and quotable. We can even change this format to loop back onto itself for a bit of surprise:

• “Without a healthy economy, we can’t have a healthy society. And without a healthy society, the economy won’t stay healthy for long.” — Margaret Thatcher
• A ham sandwich is better than nothing. Nothing is better than eternal happiness. So eternal happiness is beaten by a ham sandwich. — Mark Forsyth

Or throw that format out the window for a bit of fun:

• If the soup had been as warm as the wine, and the wine as old as the fish, and the fish as young as the maid, and the maid as willing as the hostess, it would have been a very good meal. — Unknown

However, because of how attention-grabbing a long anadiplosis is, you shouldn’t have too many in one book (unless you’re writing the Bible). You’ll probably want to save the big anadiplosis for an important character’s most important speech. Unless that character is a toddler. Toddlers love anadiplosis:

The leg bone's connected to the knee bone

The knee bone's connected to the thigh bone

The thigh bone's connected to the hip bone

Now shake dem skeleton bones!

​

Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won’t sing Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass…

​

There was an old lady who swallowed a cow;

I don't know how she swallowed a cow!

She swallowed the cow to catch the goat,

She swallowed the goat to catch the dog,

She swallowed the dog to catch the cat…

However, anadiplosis in adult literature is most often tiny. It is used to repeat a word in such a way as to signal that the speaker is surprised, insistent, or otherwise finds that one phrase important:

• What I present here is what I remember of the letter, and what I remember of the letter I remember verbatim (including that awful French.) – Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
• All you need is love, love is all you need. — The Beatles
• Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime — John Milton
• In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void. — The Bible
• While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. — Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven
• When I give, I give myself. — Walt Whitman
• And then that one day, that one day after Mr. Potter's life advanced and exploded on the page, I had to have my lunch... — Jamaica Kincaid
• And they garnered two percent market share. Two percent market share. iPod had 62 percent market share and the rest had 36. — Steve Jobs

Notice how the last two seem like plain dialogue. Because they are! Humans naturally repeat words they think are important, so anadiplosis will slip into dialogue when a character is surprised, excited, or making a point.

PRACTICE

Do you recognize this trick in one of your favorite quotes? Have you used this trick in your writing? Did this trick give you an idea for how to give a sentence more pizazz? Tell us about it!

If not, but you'd like to practice this trick anyways, leave a comment where you do one (or all) of the following:

1. Write a progression anadiplosis (e.g., "this leads to that, that leads to this other thing, this other thing leads to something else") that your main character would say or agree with.
2. Write a nursery rhyme in your world that uses anadiplosis.
3. Take your most recently written line of dialogue and add anadiplosis to it.

Writing Group Hook-up Thread: Regular thread on the 15th of each month.

A writing group provides practical support and motivation for writers. It’s a place to get feedback to make your writing clearer and more compelling. You can learn from others’ experiences and see different ways of writing. It's also about accountability – meeting regularly helps you stick to your writing goals. Plus, it can be encouraging to see others who are committed to their writing. The camaraderie in a writing group can make the often-solitary task of writing feel less lonely and more like a shared journey.

If you would like to join a writing group or want more people for your current group, post below. We're here to facilitate both virtual writing groups (discord, email correspondence, etc) as well as in-person groups. Just post a description of your group or describe what you're looking for. People are welcome to post links to discords, websites, etc.

I need help naming my book

Also I have finished several drafts already

Am in need of a new book title would also look into mythology for the title theme or some kind of detective theme maybe

How dose Flesh but not blood sound for a scifi with small elements of horror feel?

I also had the red of the blood hood as well But not seeing any of my current titles fitting

Blood unbound was another suggestion

think a mix of jojo star wars and stranger things perhaps, the story has people who have teleporting abillities they do the cool jojo fights without the stands and more reallity bending stuff.

Um the rest of the story more about the characters taking on powerful organiztions and space pirates .And theres also secert experiments involved with cloning.

A blurb

The main story follows Dan after he looses his mentor from being missing in space for 4 years, he retrurns home to find he and his family have to go into hiding because a mad man called the Director is hunting them down and have called for truce so as long as they dont interefee with his plan knowing they cant stop him.

Dan goes back into space searching for a way to get his revenge however in his recklessness he failed to incoperate his family when he took down a large base and sent off a missive signal to his location the Director has seen this as a sign of war. Dan has to return home to rescue his family only to have himself trapped and forced to fight as a gladiator against ghoulish creatures failed experiments.

He teams up with a rebel who was also forced into these games to break out of the city only for super soldier clones to chase everyone away. The only goal now is to blow the city up in order free Dans family.

However this brings unfortunate consequences Dan was unable to for see the ghouls have been let loose on Earth plus a powerful soldier wanting to kill him.

Before Dan could do anything he gets taken by one Directors old friends he says he has offer Dan cant refuse if he dose it may very well mark the end of his world

On Oíche Shamhna, which is coincidentally also mine and Faolan’s birthday. Most witch communities celebrate the longest night of the year. Our connection to the elements and our legacy. We leave offerings for our ancestors, in the hopes they walk among us that day. Our coven specifically asks the spirits of the other world for guidance, to help decide who is worthy of magic and who isn’t. It is one such Samhain that has us, jittery and unable to sleep the night before. The whole day, while doing my chores, helping with the crops and in the kitchen, I am clumsy and forgetful.
“Maeve? Are you okay?’ concern lines my mom’s face. She tries to brush some suds off my face.

“Ewww, mom,” I swat at her hand “I’m already 11 now and not a baby,” I mutter.

She throws her head back, her body shaking with laughter.

“Oof!” air escapes me, when she pulls me in tight for a hug.
“No matter what, you’ll always be my little baby,” she jokes.
I rub my cheek, where she kissed me. She bites back a smile and makes a shooing motion.
“Go, play, I got this,” I quickly swing my arms around her and dart outside.

My gaze flicks around, bonfires are lined up amongst the fields. Waiting to be set ablaze later. The green hills that surround our farm, have always had a calming effect on me. However today, they cannot soothe me. I fidget, as I scan the hill and fields once more. My shoulders droop. I can’t see Faolan anywhere.
When I think about how he kissed me near the apple tree, several days ago. A weird feeling flows through me. My head snaps up, and I run up the hill, towards the apple tree on top. My head peeks around the trunk, my face falls. I slump against the hard bark biting into my skin and pull my knees up.

A cool breeze eases the feverish pitch of my skin, blowing some strands of my hair into my face. Slowly my eyes blink open, the dark canopy of the apple tree greets me.
My head pounds, my mouth feels dry, as if it was newly inhabited by the Sahara desert. I swallow trying to force moisture into my mouth. My tight skin and sore limbs elicit a wince. All of it is quickly forgotten as I jerk upright. Blood rushes to my head and I use the tree to stabilize myself.

“Shit, shit, shit,” blinking the sleep from my eyes, I stumble forward biting my lip, while trying to think of a good excuse as to why I’ll be late. While walking and rubbing my arms, I realize that the horizon has darkened and the full moon is high in the sky. What if they reject me for being late? I shudder.

Then I spot him, Faolan, just a bit in front of me. His silver hair gleaming as it catches the moonlight. Heat rushes through me, I study him a bit longer. He’s tall, over the summer he had a grow spurt. I glare at him, before he was only a few inches taller than me, now he towers over me, my nose barely grazing his abdomen. My mouth goes dry as I really look at him, he has silver brows that grace his narrow forehead, eyes like liquid silver, a Greek nose, wide cheekbones and a very kissable mouth. Shaking my head, I try to keep up with his long strides, my stomach knots. The hair on my neck rises, my heart rate quickens.

“Faolan,”

 suddenly he’s in my space, his hands cupping my face “turn around Maeve,”

“but-“

 his hands fist into his hair “damn it Maeve, go away!” my eyes widen. He’s never this short with me. On shaking legs I take a step towards him, his back is turned to me once more as his legs eat up the distance between him and the farm.

My skin prickles and pulls tightly. A crackling sound followed by a wave of heat, makes me stumble. My eyes widen as I spot the blue flame leaping to life on Faolan’s palm. So fast my eyes can barely register it, he throws the flame towards the farm. My muscles are heavy, as if someone poured lead into them, I try to take a step and tremble with the effort. Nothing happens. Strange how all your other senses sharpen where one fails you. Hot blue flames lick at the barn, devouring it, the breeze picking as if to aid the fire to burn faster. The scent of burning hair singes my nostrils. My stomach clenches tightly, when the smell changes to that of barbecue. Hot spit fills my mouth, I swallow it back, making my eyes water. The screaming which assaults my ears, is not loud enough to drown out the words he whispers to the flames. Making them burn brighter and hotter. My skin feels so tight I’m about to burst, a whimper escapes my throat.
The ground rushes up to meet me as my legs give out on me, the damp grass, give me a slight reprieve from the blasting heat. My shoulders slump, when my attempt to reach my powers is met with an invisible wall. Agony burns hot in my chest, when a smile crosses his face as he gazes at the flames. He turns around as if only just remembering I’m still here. His body stiffens as our eyes meet, emotions cross his face like clouds on a rainy day, sadness, pity, love, sympathy, shock and hurt. Faolan takes a step towards me, his jaw ticks and he whirls around. Walking away. A frown furrows my brow, how is the Faolan I know the same one, that killed our family?
“Faolan, wait, come back!” I cry. I watch as his shoulders stiffen briefly, willing him to turn around, but he keeps going until he disappears from sight.
Time passes, it could be minutes, hours, I have no idea. All I know is that when I find the strength to move my trembling limbs, the fire has died out. A sinister feeling drives me towards the barn, all these people have been burned, leaving behind tormented husks. Stumbling through the debris, I make my way deeper into the remains of the farmhouse. Pain burns bright in my chest, there in what could have only been the kitchen is my mom. Unlike the others, even in death, she exudes a sense of calm, acceptance even. As if she knew and had made her peace. Something crunches behind me, before I can turn around a hand covers my face and everything starts to fade.

Thank you for taking the time to read it. I'm looking for just a general feedback. But of course any and all feedback is welcome!
Edit: I decided to change it to my previously uncut version (sadly I cannot change the title it's a bit longer, 1119 words). Hoping that maybe it feels less choppy? Maybe the original was fine the way it was?

My WIP takes place in a constructed world analgous in technological level and political upheaval to the Late Medieval Ages. The prologue centers on a delegation of ambassadors and their guardsman making their way towards a prospective allied country, wishing him well on the birth of his firstborn son. The POV centers on the escort soldiers and I want to emphasis the rough camaraderie of these men. Does using languages such as “asshole” “screwing/screw up” and other rough words come off as too real world/modern and not “fantasy”. I’m leaning in the direction that the POV from highborn characters and more lowborn will be markedly different but idk if I can execute it well. I’ve seen Brandon Staveley have a modern sensibility to his dialogue in the Unhewn Throne and George RR Martin has marked differences in how different classes speak but it still gives off a “thou hast” vibe (have you taken leave of your senses/have you lost your mind and explicitly using the word fucking) and think but how can I accomplish it in a way that isn’t incongruous or not come off as fantasy?

I have hit a road block in my fantasy book outlining process and i think i need to start from scratch.

Throw in your most bizzare fantasy book ideas that you can come up with, about the world or characters or about magic or the most unique book you have read or the most unique game you have played or movie you have watched absolutely anything.

I just want to be inspired.

“We need to get moving again. The horses are ready.” The group leader called out to his posse.

The men rose and grabbed their gear- a medley of instruments of death. Three of the five men used different varieties of swords, one wielded a mace and a shield, and the last had both a shortbow and longbow. These men stayed prepared for any danger, keeping their armor on at all times when on the road, even as they slept. Their weapons were never more than an arm's length away and they kept their provisions in a carriage towed by their horses to preserve their strength. This band of warriors, Iramak was its name, was one of the best.

A couple of the swordsmen, neither one the group’s leader, began to hitch the cart onto the horses’ backs. “Why do you think they didn’t want to transport this guy themselves?” The one with the larger sword grunted as he tied off one of the ropes. “Boss said they were too indisposed, whatever that means.”

The other sighed, “I mean what do you think? You gotta have your own thoughts. I mean.. a manor that large and you’d think he’d have a couple of his boys to spare for a job this simple.”

He shook his head as he tugged on some of the knots, “Does it matter? We get a job out of it, so I don’t think we should ask questions.”

The first man raised his eyebrow as if to ask something to the other, who responded with a nod. “We’re good.” He announced with a glance to the one they’d only referred to as Boss or the boss, “Why do you do this?” He turned back to the other swordsman.

He shrugged, “I guess keeping my opinions to myself has gotten me this far in life, why change now that I’m successful?”

The next few hours through the mountain pass were mostly silent, and what was said was hardly of any importance. The peace was interrupted abruptly, however, when both of the horses drawing the carriage got spooked. They reared and whinneyed at something unseen.

In an instant, each of the men had their weapons ready. The one with the bows shut his eyes and breathed in thunderously. He held it in for a moment then turned to face a small wall of naturally occurring rocks and raised his longbow, “Sir?”

“Shwett, check it out.” He nodded his head at the rocks. The swordsman with the smaller sword nodded back and crept up to them.

He raised his sword to block his face and peered around the rocks. The draw mechanism of a crossbow slammed, and, flicking his wrist, the swordsman used his blade to deflect the bolt fired at his head.

“Fire!” The boss yelled.

Without nocking an arrow, the archer pulled back on the bowstring of his larger bow and released it with a loud, reverberating clap. The wind condensed along the bowstring, swirling around it, and launched toward the rock wall. It flew along a finger the archer extended from the bow and struck the rocks. They, along with a man and his crossbow, flew from the side of the mountain. Two men leapt over the rocks, they were familiar. They weren’t vagabonds; their tabards bore the markings of a rival house, one who had long seeked the power of the reaper.

“You aren’t who we expected to be moving the package. Mercenaries?” One of them looked around at each of the warriors. “We’ve already pledged our allegiance in the war to come. We can no longer be bought.” The boss said.

“Maybe not you, but we don’t need you. We need the man you’re transporting. How much for him to be turned over to us?” The boss shook his head and turned his sword into the ground, resting his arms on its crossguard, “Deal with these two.”

The curious swordsman swung his blade down at one of the men, who parried the swing deftly. His blade chipped under the weight and power of the larger sword. Under a more perceptive eye, the sword didn’t have a sharpened blade, but a knobbed dull edge meant for crushing in multiple places at once.

His swing didn’t stop there and he spun off his back foot and brought his weapon down again, but the soldier learned his lesson. He ducked under the attack and poked his short blade into his opponent, who ignored it and spun around again. The crack of the man’s skull as it splintered and flattened echoed through the mountains.

Dropping his blade and shield and throwing his hands into the air, the other soldier surrendered, “Don’t kill me. I’m a prisoner forced to fight-“

His words were cut short by a wave of fire released from the mace of one of the warriors of Iramak.

“Did you think he was lying?” The boss asked as he pulled his sword from the ground.

“He’s dead.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Riirtal.”

“Don’t know.” The man was emotionless. His armor exposed nothing and he didn’t move when he spoke. The only four words he spoke the whole trip and nothing was to be discerned about him.

I’d learned everything I needed to at that point. Their leader, Boss, had faith in his lackeys. He was confident, but wary. He knew they could handle just about anything but he didn't trust them, any of them, which was why he refused to let them have any part of the business side of their occupation. The archer, whose name eluded me, was powerful but would only act under the direction of someone else. He was afraid of what he could do, but sure that his power was best understood by those around him. He was strong, maybe even the strongest of the bunch, but still the weakest link. The one with the strange greatsword was equal parts intuitive and free and strong. He was probably better suited to lead this outfit. Regretfully, he had the most potential of the group. Shwett, the man with the shortsword, was as quick as he was strong, mentally and physically. He had always done what he had to. He’s a survivor, and would probably prove to be the only of this group to survive. He may feign death or flee, but his actions were certain to be unpredictable. The last one, the one with the mace, Riirtal, may not be human. He bore the appearance of man and shared in his mortality, but that is where the similarities stopped. He was a husk that knew the language, he was much like myself, a monster.

So my main character is the Minister of Finance to the new king (The Chosen One who rose from nothing and feel in with my worlds noble primitive warrior race and killed the Dark Lord and took his rightful place at the throne before the story starts proper)

So the Finance Minister is rising through the ranks of the cabinet, guiding the king (who is clueless about the actually nitty gritty of running a kingdom with an economy and trading with the other nations- elves and dwarves)

Eventually, MC is given command of his own military force, and the men who sign up to fight under him are men who see that he's the real power behind the throne, these are men who understand that it is economic health, not raw strength, that makes nations thrive. They adopt the name "The Profiteers" They serve in the military and while on leave between training and battles, they use the gold they've earned to invest in the economy, that MC is causing to grow and boom in the new peacetime, so all these guys are getting crazy rich in the trading halls and markets as MC continues to build his power, train, and stir loyalty in the Profiteers. He gifts them fine armor and weapons and builds them up into one of the most powerful wings of the Throne of Man's military.

Also adding to their power is that MC has unlocked the power of the Dark Lord's magic (Using precious metals like gold and silver to create elements of Ice and Fire. The same currency they use to give them economic power also gives them power in the battlefield, which is kind of a symbolic thing I'm going for (ie: A pauldron made of silver allows them to create an armor of ice on half their body and fire shards of ice towards enemies))

The Profiteers are living the high life, drinking at the finest wineries, enjoying the best restaurants, and going after beautiful Elven Wives of their own (Human/Elf relationships are quite taboo, and the first book is all about MC's secret quest to earn enough wealth and power to marry the Elven princess he fell in love with when they were studying together at the Elven university) (Elven Wives are seen as the ultimate prize for "some" men, because they have much longer life spans, so if you marry an elf you have a wife that's going to have the body of a 20 year old your entire life...pretty good deal) The Elven economy is struggling with hyperinflation and a Profiteer mentions "The Silver of Elves grows weaker every day, soon they will have nothing of worth to trade...except their daughters,"

I want these guys to be kind of assholes, greedy, flawed, out for themselves, even thinking of an insider trading subplot where MC knows an event that will cause the markets to shift and gives his boys the heads up so they can ready their holdings and make huge profit, making his force even more powerful economically as the continue to train and grow their battle power. I really want set them apart from the honorable warrior race fighters of the Kings people (Eventually setting them up for their eventual confrontation in the later half of the series) I'm really going for the tone of "High Finance Stock Bros" I'm even thinking of introducing a drug to act in the place of cocaine.

Our man POV of these guys is their Commander, Charles Lowe, his father died in the King's revolution and his family was destitute as the new king took power. Lowe sees that its money, not might that makes a society thrive, he becomes MC's right hand man and falls in perfect line, kind of a sycopant, and eventually becomes one of the most wealthy men in the Throne.

The eventual plan is for (pretty late in the series, like book 4 of a 5 part series) when the MC sees the only option for the continuing health of the Throne is to dipose the king (Who is a simple man raised by a noble savage warrior culture that thinks in simple terms and really isn't fit to run a kingdom of this size and complexity) The Profiteers will be the Brown Shirts, storming and policing the capital and drawing out the Warrior race and defeating them so MC can take power.

So what kind of plots can I add to these guys to really make people think they're awesome (Like how you would think the Wolf Of Wall Street is awesome, flashy wealth, great possessions, beautiful wives,) but also think, "These guys are going to be a HUGE problem for the forces of good eventually"

So I have a story I’m working on (a novel I hope to publish). I want to have flashbacks, but they don’t really fit the composition of my book. It’s third person limited to my MC, without any outside POV’s.

My MC has a lot of childhood trauma that’s important to the book. There are also many things that would be great to include, like backstories of other characters and a bit of perspective from a certain meddling goddess. The thing is, I don’t know where to put flashbacks. I don’t want to have random flashback chapters, or random flashbacks in general. Should I have a symbol cut through the chapter? Is that weird? Do I have things at the end of the book? I already have little poems at the head of my chapters, before the chapter starts, for lore and hints at what happens in the chapters.

Also, should I keep flashbacks to a limit of just my MC if I do them since the rest of the story is strictly only her POV? Like as a mentioned above, backstories of other characters? I don’t want to have separate POV’s, but my villain is related to the MC and his backstory would be really fun to include.

So there's two spells that my character can do but I can't think of names for them.

One is she can stomp on the ground a fire will shoot out of the ground, kinda like pillars.

And the the other is she can form fire on the base of her feet that she can use when attacking or to make her fly faster.

Any help would be great, I genuinely can't think of anything.

I have a magic system for my fantasy story and I got the life magic mostly well thought out but I've been struggling for ideas on how life magic could be used in fighting like in war. The other thing is I don't want the fire magic in my setting to just be a ripoff of fire bending but it also has to serve a similar role. Does anyone have any ideas on how to make this system more unique? Thanks.

In my fantasy world there are primarily three main races that live in peace: the Fae, the humans, and a small number of witches. The race I'm trying to name a ancient race that supposedly died a long time ago during the first wars. The race drained the magic from the land and beings with magic like leaches and ruled the first beings of this world like slaves.

I've tried a few name generators but if anyone can suggest any or any other advice would be great!

By shapechanging a mean the mystique, double trouble, dnd changeling kind of shapechanging, but I have noticed that so far I have never seen such a character as a protagonist, and I want to write one.

What are the hurdles I will have to jump to write this character? What will I have to account for? How do I give them intrigue?

I am thinking of either teaming them up with or combining them with a previous character concept that I have come up with that is slowly going insane from witnessing an eldritch horror, so anything I should be aware of on that front would also be nice.

Thanks in advance :-)

Hello. I've came up with a new story idea, and honestly it's just kind of an offshot of a world I've been developing since I was 12, the same themes, but here it's just with tech that's easier to execute and I guess different characters.

Basically, the name of the story would be Full DiVE Administration.

Plot: In the near future, a Japanese company partnered up with Mojang Studios and released a revolutionary gaming device called Neuranekt. (From Neural and Connect). It connects directly to the user's brain, basically working like a dream - completely depriving them from sensory experiences coming from reality (as well as paralyzing them irl) and by sending signals to their brain, making them experience the virtual reality as if it were real.

Along with it, they've released a game for it - Reality Craft: Craft your reality.

The game would be realistic (graphics wise, almost indistinguishable from reality) asides from the fact that almost everything would be made out of cubes. (Asides from player's avatars, food etc). The game would offer a Multiplayer option.

But... The servers would not belong to the company, instead they would all be third-party servers - which means a player would need to buy a dedicated server, install software there, configure it. The server owner would have complete control over it and could customize it to their hearts content, with builds and particularly with software called Plugins, which would alter the mechanics of the game and the server owner could twist and remake the game to their hearts content.

The story would follow a teenage Minecraft enthusiast & mc server admin living in a family with financial problems, who somehow got access to the Neuranekt and rented a machine(s), bringing his powers to reality.

The owner of the RealityCraft server would spend all of his days configuring the server, installing plugins. As an Administrator, he would have access to everything inside the game. (on the server) He could fly, teleport, summon lightning, spawn items, mobs, finally experiencing it himself, feeling the air on his skin while flying, etc. Bringing his dreams of game becoming reality true.

The story would follow not only him, but his team - hence the name Full DiVE Administration. He would recruit Admins, Moderators and Helpers. Each rank would be represented by a different color, Admins (And Owner) would be red, Mods green, Helpers blue, and there would be a permissions plugin. The Administrators would have permissions to admin commands, regular players with the default rank only to basic commands and powers. Premium ranks would have special perks.

The staff would be really close together, working and guarding their server. The story would follow their daily adventures and struggles, explore topics such as betrayal, friendship, teamwork, leadership, conflicts, trust, as well as some comedy. And it would portray the magic of being a game administrator. The owner would ultimately grow his server and business, ultimately making enough money (through selling VIP ranks with special permissions) to e.g save his sick grandma. The Admins would operate the server through (voice) commands. E.g System command! Teleport!

As for the tech, basically:

The servers would run some distro of Linux of course. I don't know if it would be accurate, but basically the data the servers would serve would be converted to the Full Dive format inside the device. (Yes, I know how much computing power and money would be needed to makke that work)

Neuranekt would also have some form of menu/lobby, as well as an in-built SSH client. The owner could SSH into the server from within the device.

Plugins could be downloaded through some kind of repositories, as well as some form of external library. Of course it'd be done through a command. Players could write their own plugins. The owner would also have a firewall on the system as well as databases. Everything would be done through commands.

Players connecting to a Reality Craft server would just have to type the IP of the server and optionally followed by the port. The previously mentioned owner would buy a domain.

The Server would be an open-world, survival/MMORPG server. I think there would be only one instance, There would be some NPC's as well (of course, thanks to plugins) The players could explore their world. Most of the area would be protected by default, but players could claim their land. There would be a plugin for ranks/perms, plugin for basic commands that aren't in vanilla (e.g Speed), plugin for security, plugin for bans, plugins for altering the properties of items, etc.

Now, I need some ideas. How does that sound? Does the tech sound promising enough ?Any ideas?

I'm writing up a modern day setting idea where there is sort of First Contact with legendary races who withdrew from the human world expanding. And I'm aiming for a sort of 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic', so not any magic magic, just science that in some ways we humans have figured most of it out in our own way.

Basically there once were people (based on the Tautha, sidhe) who learned to manipulate living things enough that they created medicines, and foods, and selectively edit life forms to adapt special traits. and at some point they withdrew from the world into hidden 'lost worlds', be they forests that have not been delved, or underground with the creation of living food forests that survive away from the sun and grow food and materials for them.

Some specialize into something like bee keepers, but their swarms have been manipulated so that they have a pixie like appearance (like some develop naturally to look like flowers, but instead, deliberately engineered to look like tiny winged humanoids), some limbed serpents with venoms for 'drakes', keepers of ravens and crows. Some of the people specialize into sub types, like Nixies or short folk.

No electricity or internal combustion, their "sufficiently advanced technology" began with simple life shaping, expanding to alchemy, medicine and biochemistry. They solved the aging problem that we are starting to explore now, but they took the specialty herbs and venemous creatures with them when they hid.

Think the Dune spice, Bene Gesserit training, face dancers, etc all figured out before the founding of Rome. and they just hid away from the savage hordes of humanity that surely would wipe themselves out with warring amongst their tribes.

Only where did they disappear? where are they emerging from now? It can't be magical pocket dimensions or stargates to other worlds. I mean we can maybe push it a bit and have them create living caverns that create light and growth medium for fey forests. But the magical fantasy element is purely in the biological psuedo-sciences and lore/legends the people and their technology are based on.

So for a story I'm writing, my main character has a entity in his head that has haunted his family and that eventually drives it's host to kill themselves. It's gets pasted down the men of the family after their deaths and it triggered by trauma, it's pretty much an allegory for suicide and mental illness.

So I'm looking for a name for it, I originally had Abaddon but I'm not feeling it anymore and want a more original name. For extra details, it changes it's appearance depending on its host, the current shape is of a injured and undead looking dog wrapped in barbed wire.

A plot question for avid readers and writers. I’m working on a new writing project and the central point is that a girl gets killed 200 years ago and a young mage in the modern day plans to bring her back through the blood of a descendant of her killer.

My question is who should this descendant be? The only characters I have named so far are Nio the mage, Steph and Amanda who are friends of Nio, Stormy (a friendly, yet unhinged and novice necromancer) and Alexis (Nio’s ex). So, should I use any of these characters, or should I bring in someone new for the ritual? I’d like it to be a compelling plot point, that’s why I ask.

Hello, this may seem like an unusual question but I'm genuinely having a difficult time. I'm writing a fantasy (obvi), where magic is very present and a commonly used thing. The MC doesn't gain magic herself for quite some time. In the world, there is no electricity or modern-day technology. They will light candles or use magic to create a flame for light, fireplaces are common in most rooms, etc. I have the MC staying in a castle, in which her "room" is called an apartment, though it is still inside the castle. I'm using terms like "Front room" and "Bed chamber" but I cannot figure out what to call the bathroom or the typical things in a bathroom. Bathing room? Powder room? Just simply a bathroom? My basis is that bathtubs exist which I call tubs, and mirrors exist. But what about sinks? Should I say basin, or washstand? Or something entirely different? Also, I think it is important to add that I have added a separate system where inanimate objects and things also possess magic of their own so fireplaces can light themselves, tubs will fill up themselves, etc. I hope this question makes sense and I'm open to any ideas :)