Completely finished with my first first draft. I had the idea around June, started writing in August, finished a couple days ago. I wrote 99% of it on my phone, and I’d guess most of it at night on the couch while my wife watched TV or in bed when I should’ve been asleep instead.

I’m trying really hard to leave it alone for a week or so before reading it through and starting the editing process, which admittedly, feels incredibly daunting. Anyway,🍻

FD: I had an old account, it got shadowbanned after it got hacked, started a new account

Hi, I’ve been writing for myself ever since I was very young but have never shared any work. Now that I’ve been writing with more consistency, I would like to improve and write something worth reading. This story was inspired by an eerie creature I ran into on an otherwise uneventful day. I love reading Borges and I was inspired by him in a way, though I never could nor aim to write any stories as complex as his. I wanted to write something eerie, with some body horror as well, but still have it read as pretty and evocative. I would really appreciate any advice and thoughts! Just the general feeling you get when reading and if anything is too janky, corny or awkward.

Curious. How much is someone like Rebecca Yarros making?

I read an early interview from hers that was inspiring for me. She had been trying to get published for a while and was even rejected at one point. Another interesting point the article discussed, is that she was actually pitched the idea to write fourth wing.

Anyways, it’s inspiring for me as someone who hasn’t even finished their manuscript to remember that I have a lot of time to become successful and need to keep trying.

Those that have been published. How much do we think Rebecca Yarros is making from her series? Is she making tons of money from page reads on kindle unlimited? How does THAT work?

I told my wife I hit 100,000 words last night before I left my office and came upstairs for dinner.

We are fans of Bob's Burgers. She was waiting at the top of the stairs for me when I came up.

I have the best support For my first novel. Just wanted to share. My little gay heart is so happy.

I’m working on the epilogue for my first book. I’ve taken notes along the way, highlighting where a plot point doesn’t make sense, a sentence sounds whack, or more dialogue or scene descriptions are needed. And wow, I have a lot of notes. There are at least two major plot threads that need serious attention. I have two characters who don’t even have names yet. I refer to them as [insert name] in the book. Prose is lumpy. It sounds great in some sections and flat in others. The draft is also way too long. It’s probably going to hit 130k words or more.

On one hand it feels great to be nearly done with it. On the other, it seems like I have a written myself into a corner with this story and I’m going to spend as much time revising it as I’ve taken to write it (one year in November).

I am working on my epic fantasy romance fiction, and I have the worst case of this specific flavour of writer's block 😭 where I have the words, I have the story, I miraculously have time too, BUT I JUST CAN'T WRITE!
Usually, the type of writer's block I have revolves around me not being able to find words or kind of stuck as to how exactly to proceed with the story, but this time it's like I don't want to write when I really do! Ironically, I can't even explain it. I had some prior commitments going on for this entire week, so I told myself I'd only get back to my writing after I was free, and the whole week all I was kind of miserable that I couldn't write my book (it's my favourite part of the day), AND NOW WHEN I'M FINALLY FREE I CAN'T GET THE WORDS OUT. It's like my damn mind has these walls erected around the pathway from my imagination to my hands if that makes sense 😭😭

I want to write, but I just... can't. I almost feel lethargic even though I am well rested. And now I feel guilty that I practically wasted my entire day, only being able to drag out like three measly paragraphs
Has this happened to others? Any tips, cuz I hate this 🥲🥀

I discovered that writing for myself and me only was the only way a story should be told in my opinion; free of interpretations and free to express and unbothered by expectations. I adopted this mindset because I never liked my writing, and those in my creative writing class didn't either, so I just thought I should keep stories to myself.

But then I read books and I'm utterly enchanted by the wording and story at hand, and these people wrote this living up to an expectation while also being themselves apparently?

I suppose I'm asking, why make stories for others? I know there is a money inclusion, but other than that — I'm wondering why authors make their stories in the first place.

Why do you lot who write to he published, well, write to be published? Or put your stories out there?

LLÁMAME HIJO
u/Potential_Heart6163

¿ Puedo llamarte padre ?
me preguntó un chaval
la primera vez que nos conocimos.
Tenia 18 años,
una mirada limpia
y unos labios carnosos.
Imaginé que temblaba detrás del ordenador
desde donde me llamaba
en otro continente.
Tan lejos y tan cerca…
Si claro — le respondí
nada me gustaría más.
Y me mandó un emoticón
con forma de corazón.
Y a mí ¿ puedes llamarme hijo ?
susurró en el teclado.
Y sentí que se me partía el corazón.
Aquí son las tres de la mañana - continuó
estoy trabajando en un Hotel
y todo está en silencio…
Me lo imaginé sentado detrás del mostrador
a punto de terminar su turno,
y volver a su apartamento, solo …
¿ Tienes padre carnal ? — le pregunté.
No — respondió — nunca lo conocí.
Ok — le dije; quedamos así.
Yo te llamaré hijo y tú me llamarás padre
Y me mandó un emoticón
con forma de sonrisa.

First time writing since middle school, (I’m 30 now) my prose are crap but loving my story and characters. It just feels so good to put pen to page and get my ideas down!

I just started back up this week, why did I wait so long! I’m gonna try my best to write something everyday, even if it’s just a sentence. Gotta keep this going!

Have you ever felt like everyone's life is coming together,
But your own story seems to have hit a roadblock?

We dream, and we also get scared,
Sometimes we win against ourselves, sometimes we lose to ourselves.
The world thinks everything is going well,
But how much is actually going on in our hearts?

Sometimes we value ourselves based on papers,
Sometimes we compare ourselves to others' lives.
Why does it feel like everyone else is moving ahead?
Why does it take so long for our own time to come?

In this crowd, we meet thousands of faces,
But there are only a few who resonate with our hearts.
Someone's smile can make our day,
Someone's silence can keep us awake all night.

Then one day, someone unknown feels like our own,
their tiny message feels like a dream.
The things that falter at the lips,
Those same things drift into our dreams at night.

We think, maybe they're thinking of me too,
After I'm gone, they might seek me out.
But where does every story find its destination,
Some loves only bloom in memories.

Some friends drift away with time,
While others, despite being close, become a burden.
Those we used to meet daily now feel like strangers,
And some unfamiliar faces stay close to our hearts.

Sometimes it feels like we should leave everything behind and go far away,
Where there are no questions, and we don’t have to explain ourselves.
Then a tiny hope takes hold of our hand,
And gives us a reason to live life.

Now slowly it's becoming clear,
Every lost person is teaching us something.
Every incomplete story isn't useless,
Not every wish needs to come true.

Maybe growing up doesn’t mean knowing everything,
Hiding every pain, and smiling every time.
Maybe growing up simply means—
Even after falling, telling ourselves, “The journey's not over yet.”

Because we are still writing our story,
Some pages filled with smiles, some with tears.
We are neither completely broken nor entirely ready,

We are just at that age where there are dreams, and countless questions.
And maybe one day we’ll look back,
On the paths where we find ourselves alone today,
Those same paths will lead us to ourselves tomorrow.

When you're working on a long article, how do you organize your research notes?

I sometimes find that collecting information is easy, but figuring out how the ideas connect is much harder.

Do you use an outline, a notes app, a mind map, or something else?

I'm curious how other writers handle this.

Borraron una de mis publicaciones porque el archivo docx estaba relacionado con IA. Ahora que he tenido suficiente tiempo, he podido escribir sin parar hasta que me quedé sin ideas. Nunca he escrito un libro, así que no esperen una estructura increíble, solo envié mi texto a un corrector ortográfico en línea y vi 5 horas de mi serie favorita, eso me inspiró y comencé a escribir basándome en lo que estaba escuchando (resulta que es un talento oculto mío) así que logré terminar 7 capítulos porque me quedé sin ideas. Fue difícil porque nunca antes había escrito para un libro, pero mi experiencia estudiando libros enteros para exámenes orales me ayudó (no sé qué tan comunes eran en la escuela secundaria, pero bueno) así que para mí parece estar mejor escrito. Por favor, recomiéndenme qué podría agregar a la historia o qué poner en el próximo capítulo. Tengo dos versiones: una incorporando recuerdos de la infancia como chistes y referencias internas, que encontré poco seria, así que hice otra versión eliminando eso y siendo más original y menos genérica ambas son válidas y tienen casi lo mismo.

It's my birthday today, and I'm just so happy to share this. I've reached 100k words today after setting a deadline for myself. I can't believe I'll be able to do it. Different writing sites have different word counts, though. I'm keeping track of my progress each day (through all the other sites I use as backups/copies of my manuscript).

i am a 20 yo man and i rarely cry untill recently that i got off my depression pills and today i wanted to try and write a sad backstory for a random character to see if i can mimic how oda ichiro writes his backstories and i started crying and kept on crying and i was crying so much unlike anyother time in my whole life and i dont even undrestand how or why?

i have never cried this much in my life i had to stop writing cuz why was i crying? i am making it up as i am writing it how is it making me cry?

is it because i have a strong imagination? or that i am depressed or that its just normal?

i really want to know how other people feel when they also write something sad or happy or anything.

please share your own stories with me

i would have shown you guys the text but the text is in persian so sorry...

edit: here is the passage i wrote down.

Maryam freezes when she hears the song in the cafeteria.

“That voice… This is Mom’s favorite song! I’d completely forgotten about it.” Her expression crumples as the surprise fades. She takes a deep breath and continues, “May God rest my mother’s soul.”

About ten years ago, when I was a child, I had only one person in the whole world, and that was my mom. I remember how she’d play this song every night at dinner and sing along. Whenever I hear it, I can hear her voice in my ears.

Back then, we didn’t have much money, and Mom took care of me with all her heart. She always looked out for me. Even at my young age, I could tell she was pushing herself too hard. She always tried to be a hero in front of me, even though I knew she was breaking inside and working for hours every single day.

My mom was the hero of my life.

One autumn, six years ago, my mother was lying in a hospital bed. The doctors had given up on her. They told me to go in and say our final goodbyes. When I reached the door to her room, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Mom, my dear mom—this was going to be the last time I’d ever speak to her.

Then I came to my senses and realized my mother was still alive, and I was already crying for her. I hurried inside and hugged her tightly. “Mom, I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for every single day you spent raising me. I’ll try to be the same kind of mother to my own children that you were to me…”

As the tears streamed down my face and I sobbed, I went on. “I’m sorry I never got the chance to repay you. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there for so many things. I wish you could’ve been there when I married Dariush, so you could’ve seen it. I wish I’d had a child and you could’ve become a grandmother… I’m sorry.” I couldn’t go on.

Just then, I felt Mom’s hand on my back and around my neck. She was caressing me one last time. I’ll never forget it.

“My darling, I have no regrets in my life. Raising you was the best thing in the world. You always reminded me of your father, and you were by my side through all my hardest days. You were—and still are—the best child I could ever have asked God for. Seeing you here in front of me, perfectly healthy and grown, crying for me like this… it tells me I did a good job.”

I could feel my mother’s tears dampening the top of my head. I lifted my face so I could look at her one last time. As soon as I looked up, she started wiping away her tears. “You cried, and now you’ve made me cry too. Honestly, girl, you’re something else.” Then, still crying herself, she began wiping the tears from my cheeks. “My darling girl, everyone dies someday… everyone. I’m just happy that I can spend my final moments with the most beautiful person in my life.”

I was crying so hard I couldn’t see anything but tears. I was only trying to keep myself from completely breaking down.

“Mom, let me hug you one last time. I want you to stay with me while there’s still warmth in your hands…”

the end

was it good? after reading it myself it didnt hit me as hard idk. maybe cuz i know what was gonna happen.

I struggle with this a lot

i watched countless youtube videos talking about it, with people annotating and highlighting in their books. But i have a method that sounds kind of crazy and i just thought i'd share it with you. When i read books, any time i have a thought or epiphany i say it out loud whether someone is listening or not. I talk through my thoughts and then continue on with my reading. is that active reading too? Is there a better method? What do you do?

(I'm writing this post for the second time because I accidentally deleted the last one before seeing the answers)

Recently, in a literature course, I had a lesson about novels where my teacher explained these three terms (narrative person, narrative voice, and narrative perspective) and how to connect them, but I didn't understand it. When writing, for example, a regular novel or an weebnovel, is it mandatory to combine these terms?

From what I know, a regular novel and a weebnovel are very different from each other.