You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

There’s an international competition, and Main Character-kun and all his candy-haired rivals/peers/nakama/friends are being housed in the same hotel.

The night before the competition, some ungodly scream sounds from the Naruto-kid’s room. The rest of the cast rush in, flick on the lights, and find Naruto-kid sitting up in bed, his hair completely flat and utterly black, a pair of DIY salon gloves discarded next to his bed. He races to the mirror across the room, hands hovering in shock around his straightened hair, as though unable to recognize the boy staring back at him.

It’s… an unsettling act of personal vandalism, but Naruto-kid seems unhurt. After verifying he’s okay and reporting it to hotel security, most of the kids are content to go back to their own rooms and just double-check their own locks.

Most seem content…. Not all…

The next day, Naruto-kid is eliminated from the competition nigh-instantly. He’s given no chance to monologue about his ambitions, his friends, his hometown.  Not even a second spared for a flashback to the bullying that became the formative motivator of his childhood.  

No. He’s summarily eliminated by another candy-haired contestant. Naruto-kid, with his suddenly unassuming black hair, is dismissed from the arena. And Main Character-kun is distressed. 

There’s a murderer on the loose. Just in no traditional sense. Another kid is shaved bald in the middle of the night, and eliminated from the competition the next day. Colored contact lenses go missing, and suddenly the red-eyed yandere girl doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She’s sent home without the slightest bit of fanfare. Someone funnels bleach into the sprinkler line, and a triggering of the fire alarm leaves a whole arena of contestants doused in the ruinous fluid. Their candy colors melt into brittle, tacky, bleachy off-orange. Not a single one survives that night’s round of eliminations.

Main Character-kun is still pink. He’s still gelled. He’s still dressed in fiery robes and platform sandals with a bandana cinched around his forehead. He hoards hair dye in his room and sleeps with one eye open. He can only watch in silence as this gruesome assassination plot unravels, without a doubt in his mind that he is the real target.

One night, there’s a knock on his door. And the twisting of a key. And the squeak of hinges swinging open. Main Character-boy’s breathing halts.  His time has come.

He looks. It’s the blue-haired girl, the quiet one with self-confidence issues. Her hair is tied into twin pigtails. She’s carrying something in her right hand.  Main Character boy braces for impact.

She flicks on the lights. He looks. They’re wigs, in her hand. Three of them. Purple Green and Orange, each primmed and poofed and curled to extravagant degrees.

“Here,” she offers, hand extended. “Take whichever you like. They’re extra.”

“Wait. Why…? What’s this–what’s happening?”

She takes a step forward, and she shuts the door behind her. With her free hand, she grips the blue hairline at her scalp, and she pulls back gently, revealing netting. She drops the blue hair to the ground, and pulls the netting free from her forehead, and a loose, unassuming bob of perfectly black, perfectly normal hair falls around her shoulders.

She’s unassuming in every possible regard, mundane in every sense, a girl to blend into the backdrop of millions.

“We’re not going home yet,” she says. “Not you, and not me.”

chrissy i want you to know im in love with this

The Comb and the Dye are in fact the real anime weapons of this series im so glad they’re wielding them as such

The Main Character girl wraps her hair back up in the netting and fixes her blue wig back in place. She takes a seat in the nearby desk chair and explains why she’s here. She’s suspected for a while that she and MC-kun are the same, both normal-looking people masquerading in this candy haired world. MC-kun had seemed just a bit too distraught during the Naruto-kid incident. That was when Main Character-chan first noticed him, and when she recognized his shade of candy pink hair by its bottle brand.

MC-chan explains that she had lived a very normal and unassuming life. She did Stage Crew in middle school for the drama club, always the unnoticed extra in the background, sweeping in silently, covertly, under darkness to handle the scene changes and wardrobe transformations.  She honed her skills making props and costumes for the drama kids, til she was a master of needle and thread, dyes and combs, and props built from paper and plastic.

She thinks it was that attention-to-detail she cultivated in prop-design that let her finally See what MC-kun had seen—the Candy Haired world around her that constantly overshadowed whatever she did.

One day, she put on the wig. And she never looked back.

But she doesn’t know who the hair assassin is either, any more than MC-kun. There’s still strength in numbers. And she figures if they work together, their odds of survival are greater.

MC-kun agrees.

…

The next day is a free day for the kids competing in this International Competition. The morning passes with most of the contestants montaging through a romp in the city, tasting local cuisine and window-shopping around the market area and getting into Kodak-moment worthy shenanigans.

MC-kun and MC-chan steal away to a quiet park, sitting at a picnic table, putting pink- and blue-heads together to talk through all the info they have, and what options are open to them. They don’t get very far. A glasses-wearing girl appears from behind the bushes and stops them cold.

Glasses Girl is small and wiry, mousy in her frame. She has orange hair that poofs around her head, cropped at chin level, in a way that reminds MC-kun vaguely of a roosting chicken. Her glasses are enormous on her freckled face, and they capture the light, obscuring her eyes behind their glare.

“You two… you’re fakes, aren’t you? Both of you.”

MC-kun stops cold. MC-chan spins around in her seat, wide-eyed. “I don’t… I don’t even know what that means! Go away before we—”

Glasses Girl pulls an immaculate, highly stylized laptop from her bag. She flips it open with one hand, propping it on the table and typing furiously, too fast to even see her fingers. Audio begins to play from the laptop speakers.

“We’re not going home yet. Not you, and not me.”

“I hacked into your phone last night,” GG-chan states simply, head tilted toward MC-kun. “I’ve heard the whole conversation.”

“How?!” MC-kun asks. He holds his phone at a distance, like it’s suddenly venomous.

GG-chan shifts. Suddenly the glare of her glasses is no longer obstructing her eyes. Behind the coke-bottle look is an expression of pure brow-knitted confusion. “I don’t…. I don’t actually know. I just could.”

GG-chan was an art student. A not-very-good-at-all art student. And a very-much-below-average competitor in sculpting competitions. She was plain, and unassuming, and inconspicuous, and jealous of the better-established art students around her with their own flashy styles. Her peers wore giant non-prescription glasses; they dyed their hair bright colors and cropped it short to perfect hipster chique.

GG-chan tried to imitate that. But as a truly-not-fantastic artist, she couldn’t even pull that off. She dyed her hair, picked out glasses, overshot “hipster”, and landed firmly in “geek”.

She landed so firmly in “geek” that internationally-acclaimed hacker abilities spawned with her makeover. Suddenly she could break into anything, override anything, hack or fix or erase anything over a permanent wifi connection that followed her as its hotspot.

Her laptop never loses charge. Her bash scripts never fail. Her glasses always glint in the slightest bit of light and slide down her nose so that she has to keep her middle finger pressed firmly to the bridge at all times.

She’s afraid of being sent home in ruin, sent back to her life as a mediocre art student.

GG-chan wants to join the effort to not be eliminated.

…

A day passes. GG-chan has hacked all the email accounts of the registered contestants and has found nothing suspicious. MC-chan has spent her time crafting shorter-cut wigs to give to MC-kun and GG-chan as backups. MC-kun has been trying his best to understand what he’s gotten into. He bought a few extra obnoxious bandanas to bolster his obnoxious outfit, as if that might help.

They’re sitting quietly at lunch, eating in silence, with no new information to share and no desire to attract unwanted attention from the contestants around them.

“Ohhhhh my what is this? Has this pathetic posse of plebeians formed a little club oh how quaint!”

MC-chan chokes on her noodles. GG-chan startles. MC-kun groans.

The voice belongs to a platinum-blond boy, dressed to the nines, who’s sidled up to the table unannounced. He reeks of ambition and money and arrogance and a very particular high-end cologne, and he laughs heartily at his own joke. He flicks a lock of blond hair from his face, which all but sparkles.

MC-kun recognizes this kid. He was one of the first Candy Haired kids to declare an eternal rivalry with him.

“What’s it to you?” MC-kun challenges, already ticked off.

And the Rich Blond Rival Boy deflates. Comically. Pale and hollow-cheeked and exhausted, suddenly leaning against their lunch table, speaking in a rasp. “Please let me join you. I’ve been wearing this Gucci suit for two weeks straight I don’t have any others.”

No one answers immediately. No one has anything resembling an answer.

“Then buy another suit!” MC-kun says.

“Do I look like I’m made of m o n e y to you?!”

“YES.”

“Ah ha! Yes that is the point, well you see–” and RBR-kun pulls out a soggy PB&J from his bag, slumps into an open seat at the table, his eyes dull and matte, solemnly chewing his lunch. “Can one of you spot me like $1.50 for the bus ride to the competition arena tomorrow? I spent the last of my money on this bread.”

MC-kun: “What?”

RBR-kun: “I don’t have money!”

MC-kun: “Why are you ACTING like a rich boy if you DONT HAVE MONEY”

RBR-kun: “LOOK IT JUST KIND OF HAPPENED OKAY.”

MC-kun: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT JUST KIND OF HAPPENED.”

And well, it just kind of happened. Rich Blond Rival Boy is as fake as they come. He grew up in a modest household, making money over the summer by doing yard work for neighbors. He was fairly frugal and quiet and unassuming, until his grandma bought him a nice tux for the school dance, and he dyed his hair platinum blond on a dare, and suddenly the world was in his pocket.

Suddenly he had connections in high places. Suddenly he could have wait staff doting on him at a moment’s notice. Suddenly he could summon helicopters at the snap of his fingers, and have any product imaginable, legal or not, air-lifted to him on a whim. Everyone was his pawn. Everything bent to his will. Ever since then he’s been unstoppable in his ambitions.

He just doesn’t have any of the actual money to maintain this. All his cards are overdrafted. His credit is in the toilet. Several different loan sharks technically own the rights to his immortal soul.

Rich Blond Rival Boy wants in on the League Of Background Characters, because he is utterly afraid of the ruin he faces if he is exposed. If the others get assassinated, they get sent home. If RBR-kun gets assassinated, the debtors will drag him out by his toes.

A scuffle erupts over by the lunch line before anyone can give RBR-kun an answer. It’s over in an instant. A shriek, a clatter, a tray and knife hitting the ground. The biker ruffian boy with the blue mohawk lies on the floor. His shorn-off mohawk spikes lie on the platter, as if being served to the cafeteria at large.

Worried murmurs break out in the crowd.

No one had seen the knife-yielder. 

No one had seen anything.

As if the act were committed by someone impossible to even notice.

[chanting]

MORE KIDS MORE KIDS MORE KIDS

LAST PART, CONCLUSION AND ALL, AND IT’S LONG. 

And the one thing worth noting: MC-chan is now MG-chan, as in Main Girl-chan, to avoid mixing up her name with MC-kun. 

Enjoy.

There’s a sustained hush, like a breath held too long. It’s a blooming, crawling, clawing wave of realization that takes the cafeteria captive. Heads turn. Voices falls silent. Clueless candy-hair after clueless candy-hair takes in the murder scene, mohawk spikes presented so curiously, so esoterically plattered, as if part of the lunch selection.

The dish itself is a warning; MG-chan understands that much. She feels the bloodlust in the air. And it’s closer now. She edges her chair away from the table. Her nerves are alight.

“Run,” MG-chan says.

“Sorry?” MC-kun replies.

MG-chan kicks her chair back, lighting to her feet.

“Run!”

And at that moment, a sound like a cannon ball fires, the silence breaking. People startle at the noise, but it’s the boy sitting one table over – directly across from MC-kun – who jolts entirely sideways in his seat. He’s the contestant whose hair has been quaffed perfectly into a cartoon whale, pallid blue and deep ocean undertones brimming through his hairline. He stares forward, as if stunned. The girl next to him asks if he’s okay.

He turns to her slowly, and reveals the entire right half of his face has been consumed in a wad of bubblegum. He raises one shaking hand to his whale-tail, now webbed in gum, and he collapses.

And all hell breaks loose.

MG-chan has MC-kun by the shoulder before he can process it. They’re running. Them and GG-chan and RBR-kun. Them and almost everyone else, a breathing screaming mass of panic as people shove and knee and elbow their way through the crowd.

“Where are we going?” MC-kun asks. He’s stumbling to keep pace with MG-chan, one hand pressed protectively to the bandana on his forehead in danger of slipping off.

“Away from here. Outside.”  MG-chan throws her weight against the cafeteria door. It slams open. “Wherever we’re not sitting targets.”

Their feet beat against the linoleum below, into the hotel foyer, but it’s no good. The bloodlust presence doesn’t fade. It does not grow weaker. Instead it gains on them, like heat, like a house fire that lashes out at their heels and trips them with each step. Another two kids go down with the sound of razor blades and a puff of shorn hair, like dandelion fluff blown in the wind.

MG-chan, MC-kun, GG-chan, and RBR-kun all burst out the hotel front doors – RBR-kun with a shriek and a graceful leap over a half-shaved unconscious student on the floor.

“How did he go down?! I didn’t even see him go down?!” RBR-kun shouts, pointing to the kid he vaulted. “Invisibility? Is the murderer invisible?!”

“Maybe super-speed. Really any superpower is possible among these people. We can’t rule anything out.” GG-chan has her laptop out, balanced precariously on the crook of her arm. She types one-handed while she runs. “If I can hack into the security cameras maybe I can activate the infra-red sensors and get a reading on—”

There’s a crack. A gasp. MG, MC, and RBR all look back to find GG-chan frozen in place. Her glasses are shattered, pinned to the wall beside her by a single needle-thin arrow.

“My glasses…” GG-chan blinks, and stares at her laptop like it’s something entirely foreign to her. “What is this? What was I–?”

MG-chan grabs her arm too. “Never mind. Run. Just run.”

Keep reading

Have a look at the list here

lets trot buckaroos plenty of room at the top. in fact, the space up here is endless

I could never write on my phone, but for some reason that changed this year and my word counts exploded, so it got me thinking about how everyone else is doing this.

Will be reading tags/replies in case you say how it's affected your word counts!

How Long Your Stories Should Be (And What Publishers Want)

First of all, thank you so much for over 8,000 followers!!

Short Story

-Under 500 Words is described as flash fiction. It’s one scene

-Between 1,000 and 8,000 Words is a short story

-Between 5,000 and 10,000 Words is as long as a short story should ever be

Novella

-A story between 10,000 and 40,000 Words

Novel

-Anything over 40,000 Words is considered a novel, but 50,000 should be the minimum amount of words you should have (If you’re trying to get published)

-Most novels are between 60,000 and 100,000 Words

-Publishers generally don’t like more than 110,000 words, unless you’re already established

Adult fiction

-Between 80,000 and 100,000 Words

Science and Fantasy

-Generally Between 90,000 and 120,000. Not abnormal to reach the 150,000 range. (It takes time to build a whole new world)

Romance Novels

-Between 50,000 and 100,000

Crime, Mysteries and Thrillers

-Between 70,000 and 90,000

Young Adult

-Between 50,000 and 80,000

Children’s Novel

-Between 25,000 to 50,000

Every time I see this type of things I marvel at the length fanfiction writer achieve. Is not weird to find a 100k work, and that’s a novel. You wrote a novel like it is nothing!!!

Or in some cases 2 or 3 times that.

I’m so thankful, every day.

Elements of culture.

Fantasy Guide to Palaces and How they Work

I’m always being asked how palaces work whether its downstairs, upstairs or accommodation wise. It is a really difficult thing to explain since there are so many different versions. I thought up a great analogy for it. Treat a palace like a hotel with a whole town living in it, because that’s technically what it is. So that’s what we’re going to do.

Accommodation

Accommodation can be a difficult thing to sort both as a writer and a steward. You might have a palace of 200+ bedchambers in which you must house a staff of 500-/+, a varying amount of nobles, the royal family (of a varying amount) and their own households. When assigning rooms it is best to think of a Russian nesting doll. Start from the inside and work your way to the outside.

Room Service

Most palace kitchens were in the lower extremities of the building. They would include an area for food preparation, pantries (rooms where they keep the food) and perhaps even a common area for the servants. Food would be cooked in large ovens, rather looking like pizza ovens or on spits over fire pits. The kitchens would turn out food on order of the nobility and royalty which would be brought to the rooms by the noble’s own servants. But since royal palaces are so large and microwaves do not exist, the food would likely be cold when it arrived. For larger, more public dinners, the court would gather in the great hall together (for more on this).

Entertainment

If you hoard over a thousand people into a single building, you will have to keep them entertained or else they might start misbehaving, more than usual. Palaces would be well stocked with ways to keep the courtiers occupied.

Services

We’ve spent enough time upstairs. Now lets look at the servants portion of the palace.

For @innergoldx sorry it took so long

a trio of witches and their familiars

YA titles must contain one of the following words or you have to pay a fine:

blood crow queen ice crown fire bone true academy magic glass shade kingdom world shadow song sun ember secret legend star raven thief

Historical Ancient Norse Clothing vs. Pop Culture

I have a bone to pick with movie and TV costuming of vikings. It seems like pop culture has it own surprisingly consistent (but very wrong) idea of history. As someone who is really into historical clothing and also into Ancient Norse, it brings me physical agony. I’m going to explain with examples. I’ll use three recent shows, Vikings, Norsemen and Last Kingdom. Now keep in mind that I have only watched bit of Norsemen and I actually really liked it, so this has nothing to do with the overall quality of the shows, only the costuming. I picked these shows because they all seem to present themselves very “realistic”, which is why I leave movies like How To Train Your Dragon be, because clearly they are not attempting realism or historical accuracy.

Also, I’m not a historian, and even if I were, there is no way to know what people at that time were actually wearing. There is archaeological evidence and a little historical evidence too, but for some things even historians just have to give their best guess. I’ve done casual and no way academic research for my own projects. If you want to read more yourself, my best resource is Viking Answer Lady. The articles go very into detail and have a lot of historical and archaeological sources.

Okay let’s go. This is going to be long.

Gripe One: “We want to make our show seem gritty and realistic, so clearly we should make our vikings dirty and wear only back and muted colors so they look edgy”

Keep reading

Writing About: Pirates

The Characters and the Fiction

Life

Real life pirates

Historic Periods

The Ships

Weapons and Fighting

Books

Websites

-Alex

Writers can use these 12 Archetypes to create characters

The 12 Common Archetypes by Carl Golden

The twelve archetypes are divided into ego types, self types, and soul types. 

1) The Four Ego Types   1. The Innocent Motto: Free to be you and me Core desire: to get to paradise Goal: to be happy Greatest fear: to be punished for doing something bad or wrong Strategy: to do things right Weakness: boring for all their naive innocence Talent: faith and optimism The Innocent is also known as: Utopian, traditionalist, naive, mystic, saint, romantic, dreamer.   2. The Orphan/Regular Guy or Gal Motto: All men and women are created equal Core Desire: connecting with others Goal: to belong Greatest fear: to be left out or to stand out from the crowd Strategy: develop ordinary solid virtues, be down to earth, the common touch Weakness: losing one’s own self in an effort to blend in or for the sake of superficial relationships Talent: realism, empathy, lack of pretence The Regular Person is also known as: The good old boy, everyman, the person next door, the realist, the working stiff, the solid citizen, the good neighbour, the silent majority.   3. The Hero Motto: Where there’s a will, there’s a way Core desire: to prove one’s worth through courageous acts Goal: expert mastery in a way that improves the world Greatest fear: weakness, vulnerability, being a “chicken” Strategy: to be as strong and competent as possible Weakness: arrogance, always needing another battle to fight Talent: competence and courage The Hero is also known as: The warrior, crusader, rescuer, superhero, the soldier, dragon slayer, the winner and the team player.   4. The Caregiver Motto: Love your neighbour as yourself Core desire: to protect and care for others Goal: to help others Greatest fear: selfishness and ingratitude Strategy: doing things for others Weakness: martyrdom and being exploited Talent: compassion, generosity The Caregiver is also known as: The saint, altruist, parent, helper, supporter.   2) The Four Soul Types           5. The Explorer Motto: Don’t fence me in Core desire: the freedom to find out who you are through exploring the world Goal: to experience a better, more authentic, more fulfilling life Biggest fear: getting trapped, conformity, and inner emptiness Strategy: journey, seeking out and experiencing new things, escape from boredom Weakness: aimless wandering, becoming a misfit Talent: autonomy, ambition, being true to one’s soul The explorer is also known as: The seeker, iconoclast, wanderer, individualist, pilgrim.   6. The Rebel Motto: Rules are made to be broken Core desire: revenge or revolution Goal: to overturn what isn’t working Greatest fear: to be powerless or ineffectual Strategy: disrupt, destroy, or shock Weakness: crossing over to the dark side, crime Talent: outrageousness, radical freedom The Outlaw is also known as: The rebel, revolutionary, wild man, the misfit, or iconoclast.   7. The Lover Motto: You’re the only one Core desire: intimacy and experience Goal: being in a relationship with the people, work and surroundings they love Greatest fear: being alone, a wallflower, unwanted, unloved Strategy: to become more and more physically and emotionally attractive Weakness: outward-directed desire to please others at risk of losing own identity Talent: passion, gratitude, appreciation, and commitment The Lover is also known as: The partner, friend, intimate, enthusiast, sensualist, spouse, team-builder.   8. The Creator Motto: If you can imagine it, it can be done Core desire: to create things of enduring value Goal: to realize a vision Greatest fear: mediocre vision or execution Strategy: develop artistic control and skill Task: to create culture, express own vision Weakness: perfectionism, bad solutions Talent: creativity and imagination The Creator is also known as: The artist, inventor, innovator, musician, writer or dreamer.   3) The Four Self Types   9. The Jester Motto: You only live once Core desire: to live in the moment with full enjoyment Goal: to have a great time and lighten up the world Greatest fear: being bored or boring others Strategy: play, make jokes, be funny Weakness: frivolity, wasting time Talent: joy The Jester is also known as: The fool, trickster, joker, practical joker or comedian.   10. The Sage Motto: The truth will set you free Core desire: to find the truth. Goal: to use intelligence and analysis to understand the world. Biggest fear: being duped, misled—or ignorance. Strategy: seeking out information and knowledge; self-reflection and understanding thought processes. Weakness: can study details forever and never act. Talent: wisdom, intelligence. The Sage is also known as: The expert, scholar, detective, advisor, thinker, philosopher, academic, researcher, thinker, planner, professional, mentor, teacher, contemplative.   11. The Magician Motto: I make things happen. Core desire: understanding the fundamental laws of the universe Goal: to make dreams come true Greatest fear: unintended negative consequences Strategy: develop a vision and live by it Weakness: becoming manipulative Talent: finding win-win solutions The Magician is also known as: The visionary, catalyst, inventor, charismatic leader, shaman, healer, medicine man.   12. The Ruler Motto: Power isn’t everything, it’s the only thing. Core desire: control Goal: create a prosperous, successful family or community Strategy: exercise power Greatest fear: chaos, being overthrown Weakness: being authoritarian, unable to delegate Talent: responsibility, leadership The Ruler is also known as: The boss, leader, aristocrat, king, queen, politician, role model, manager or administrator.

Note: There are four cardinal orientations: freedom, social, ego, order. The types have a place on these orientations.

Article via soulcraft.co

Who took this picture!?  This absolutely PERFECT picture???  It is just… so… perfect.  Distilled autumn pastoral fantasy.  The colorful mushroom, the curl of the fern and flowers, the muted background foliage, the beady eyes and precise whiskers of the tiny squeakbeast!!!  Unreal.  Wow.

like, idk what it is but harvest mice are just the most photogenic animals one arth

How to recover from Post-Inspiration Burnout

What is post Inspiration Burnout?

We’ve all been there. The muses hit us hard, and we spend days, weeks if we’re lucky, churning out thousands of words a day. Our stories are on fire, it’s all we can think about, and if we’re not writing, something feels wrong. 

And then it ends, as inspiration always does. 

This is normal! Inspiration isn’t a personality trait, it’s a temporary state of being. When that fire burns out, we’re usually left feeling tired and uncreative. So how do we recover? 

Why are you slowing down? 

First things first, figure out the why. Take a good, hard look not just at your writing, but your life around it. Maybe you don’t know what happens next in the story, and you’re stuck. Maybe you’ve been working a lot of hours and staying up late writing, and you’re physically exhausted. Maybe something emotional happened in your life, like a breakup, or a fight with a friend or loved one. Sometimes it might just be the natural cycle of the muses, but before you chalk it up to that, really look at all the other options. 

Some of those causes, like writers block, can be solved by going back to outlines or using brainstorming techniques. Others, like a fight, can only be solved by time. Which brings us to our next question….

Do you need a break? 

I always say, if it’s a problem inside your story, you can write around it, write through it, or write about it, but you can’t solve it by not writing. If it’s a problem outside of your story? Then you need to take a honest look at what’s going on in your life to see if you can benefit from a break.

Not everyone needs one in the post-inspiration burnout phase, but plenty do. Let it be an option! Take some time to explore another hobby, another writing project, or to just lay on the couch and watch netflix. Whatever you know is going to help you recover those creative juices.

 It helps to choose a start and end date to your break, whether that’s a day or a week or a month, so you can mindfully take time off from your project. 

Can you recreate your inspiration? 

While you’re reflecting on the reasons you slowed down, and if you should take a break or not, there’s one more thing you should try to figure out: was there something that prompted your inspiration, and if so, can it be recreated? Maybe you moved to a new writing place, and it awakened something. Great! Find another new spot, and see if that helps. Maybe it was a song you listened to over and over and over again until you wrung out all the inspirational juices from it. If it’s on spotify, go to that song’s radio to find other similar jams, or listen to other songs by that artist. 

There’s not always a rhyme or reason to inspiration, but if you can find a source, take advantage of that! 

Reread for fun

If you find yourself slowing down, give yourself a nice time by rereading all the fevered words you just furiously typed on the page. It’s a good way to spot check yourself to make sure you didn’t just throw out half your outline in a muse-induced haze, and it can bring back some of the excitement you felt when you were writing it. Besides, there’s something about reading words that were written joyously that is just so much fun. Let yourself have a moment. 

Don’t hold yourself to the same standard

Were you writing for five hours a night? Were you writing 6k words a day? That’s great, but that’s done now. Don’t expect yourself to be able to sprint forever. Writing is a marathon sport, and there is no shame in physically and mentally slowing it down. If you work well off goals, that’s great, but choose a more realistic word count or time goal for your lifestyle, something that you could conceivably achieve every day, not just when inspiration lights a fire under your ass. 

Be proud of what you achieved

Whether your inspiration lasted a day, a week, or months, it’s not something to mourn the loss of; it’s something to celebrate the existence of. Whatever you achieved during this time, be proud of it! Chances are, you wrote words you never would have gotten down without these moments, and had ideas that are going to serve you for much longer than any temporary period of inspiration could ever last. Throw a party! 

Remember, no writer writes off of inspiration alone. It takes work, discipline, and some well timed breaks to be a consistent and healthy writer. I hope you enjoy your periods of inspiration, and smile during your periods of work.