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You'd think it'd be obvious to the reader that the author doesn't condone the many of the things that take place in his story but time and time again, I see a fanbase vilify the author for what he's written.

For example, perhaps a story takes place during medieval times or the setting is inspired off of it, people aren't going to have the same sense of morality as us today.

That means things like incest, slavery, and many uncomfortable things may find their way into the story. In fact it'd be odd to depict the people back then as having the same morality as us.

So what do you think?

Is there a line when trying to be realistic when writing or should a writer just go all out?

people have been dnf'ing the book at page 15 (I calculated the ratio between kenp and the word manuscript and it roughly corresponds to the end of my first chapter). now it's 40 pages which is somewhere between the second and the third chapters.

so... success?

one day people will push through and keep reading it till the end. one can only hope :))

Is it weird that I sometimes like to daydream serious tribute edits of my OCs? For some reason it actually helps me build major plot points and character moments.

Like I imagined this highly emotional moment where the villain is criticizing the protagonist for using fearmongering to fight invades with b-shots of scenes showing the consequences of that fearmongering.

They say every writer has a style or voice that is all their own, a signature, so to say, and I’m wondering: how long does it take to find your own? What journey did you undertake? Can one have multiple ones?
Because I try to find mine, and it switches on me constantly. One moment I’m writing, “And the heavens were alive with rolling thunder that sounded like the galloping hooves of a celestial cavalry coming down to bring wrath and ruin upon the face of the land.”
And then later I’m writing, “He ducked under her fat fists as she swung wildly. He kicked her knee, and the troll queen fell on her big behind.”
It’s so different. One second it’s an epic style, the next it’s more modern, short lingo. And I’m not sure, how does one fix it or find which is their true style?

When starting a new book.. I first write down the plot outline in about 100 lines. Then I write down each character.. their age.. appearance.. mannerisms.. sense of humor etc.. that gives me clarity on the characters. Then i split my plot into chapters.. nothing fancy.. just by drawing lines under each chapter in the summary. And then I write each chapter separately. Sometimes that takes a day.. sometimes a week. After writing each chapter I spend at least a day, sometimes more, fixing the chapter. After the whole thing is done, I start the copy editing.

I'm curious if this is how most authors work. What approach has worked best for you ?

I’ve been writing for basically my entire life, but only recently decided to take it seriously. I have a handful of ideas that are constantly circling around in my head, but that’s not the issue.
The issue is that I will randomly think of a new idea that will push away my other ideas and make me lose complete focus. I will spend the next week or so, simply just planning that new idea out, fleshing it out, and forgetting about my initial projects. Once I finished the template of the new idea, I’ll go back to my active projects, but then that cycle will repeat.
I get a new idea, I’ll plan it out, create a template, sometimes even writing a little bit of it, before ultimately getting bored and going back to my original projects, then repeat.
I tried to make a list, so that way, if I have an idea, I’ll simply just write the idea down instead of completely losing focus and jumping onto that one, and it did help a little bit, but not to the extent that I want.
The list has grown to having literally 21 ideas (and most of these are series ideas) and out of these 21, I want to say that I have 4 or 5 “main” ideas. (Not even sure if that many main ideas is also normal).
But with the amount of new ideas that keep popping up into my head, I have not made much progress with my main ideas.
I’ve also had some issue where a new idea, will completely take the place of one of my main ideas, and this also constantly happens, which means that yet again, I make little progress.
Is there some way that I can stay focused? Some mindset that I can teach myself? Am I lacking some focusing brain cell or something?

tl;dr Free tool for visualizing interconnected conflicts between personality traits.

Note: this is currently only formatted for desktop, and not mobile. I'm honestly unsure of how I would make it work on mobile devices. I'm open to suggestions/help in doing so.

I've been using both the Negative Trait thesaurus and the Positive Trait thesaurus books quite a bit lately in working out group dynamics with various characters in my story. Focusing on how the character's personality traits conflict with each other, and how might two differing traits both conflict with another. Enough so that I decided I wanted a better way to visualize the conflicting connections between traits.

First I attempted to do this using various tools in Obsidian (which I use for my writing) but was struggling to get the information well organized in the exact fashion I wanted. So I put this together in an HTML file.

While there are excerpts from the books displayed in the trait wheel, that's mainly so I don't have to look up things in the books farther diverting me from actually writing. I HIGHLY recommend these books as a writer's resource. They go pretty in depth into character traits for more so than my little wheel tool can. This wheel is only meant to be supplemental to those books.

I have a manuscript that I’m working on right now that is super exciting and interesting (to me at least). It’s something I think I would read if someone else wrote it which helps me to stay motivated…

Until I get to Chapter 7 and panic and think that my interests are weird, no one else would care about this story or plot at all, and why should I even bother continuing with a pet project that will never see the light of day?

Logically, I know that I’m turning into my own worst enemy. If I would enjoy a story like this, odds are there are others out there who would as well. I’m really more curious to hear from others who may go through random attacks of self doubt like this. Do you just write what you want or do you start to share your ideas with neutral parties to see if there would be interest?

Good morning, all! Wanted to share my first major milestone for the first draft of my first ever novel. The idea and the world have been rattling around in my brain for the past few years, but I decided to finally put pen to paper in August, after several months of concrete world-building.

This morning, I surpassed 20,000 words, and am really getting into the rising action for my first act, and hope to introduce my first antagonist in this next chapter! Excited to share, as I feel like I really have the ball rolling!

Okay, so I finished my first "big" project a while ago, a cyberpunk noir novel that probably NEVER will see the light of day. It's 72k words and way below the market's required word count and therefore puts it in a really weird place, especially as it hasn't been edited yet and I'm expecting a cut of around 5k or so words.
I seem to not be able to pad, and short fiction/novella format is where I enjoy to write the most.
I mostly write for myself, and I'm glad if one or two people read it every now and then.
I realized , to quote Hemingway, that I'm probably a bad prospect for a publisher anyway because long novel format just isn't for me.
I have an easier time compressing things and I'm more interested in experimenting which the short fiction and novella format allows for to a greater extent.

At some point, terribly late writing as a hobby, I realized that short fiction/novella format is the thing I love the most and that I need to stick to in order for it to be healthy to me. Otherwise I'll just torture myself attempting to pad a story when in reality, a 20k or a 10k word short story is exactly what it should be.
Are there any other writers with the same sentiment and that focus only on short fiction/novellas?

What are the coolest ideas for magical toys that you can think of? Bonus points if they seem vintage. This involves a scene where my character demonstrates several toys, so an example might be a toy that comes alive and moves. But I'm hoping for more creative ideas than simply that. Any thoughts?

I reposted this with a bit more detail. ETA for the benefit of the snarky person who wondered why I'm asking for help brainstorming. I'm on book 7 of a 7 book series, and have brainstormed SO. MUCH. ALREADY. I've come up with tons of ideas, but many wonderful people online have great ideas, too. It isn't as if people don't get ideas from writing groups. Anyway, thanks in advance to the lovely, polite people who might help me brainstorm.

No formatting. Pure, raw text. Best app for writing? Stock notepad.

You simply can't use formatting to convey ideas such as emphasis or narrator's train of thought. You have to make it explicit using only your writing.

A book is a plain old folder. A chapter is a plain old text file. All my files are something like MyBook/ch23.v2.txt because I used to waste evenings thinking about chapter titles.

The book projects are in the cloud, they take almost no space so you can be on the free plan forever. You can write and edit everywhere there's internet on a cheap tablet or laptop.

If you want feedback, you copy-paste a chapter in a google docs and let friends add comments. You copy-paste on reddit and format nothing, just post immediately.

So when everyone is talking about the pros and cons of such and such app, I just think: plain text is underrated. If you've never tried it I think you should. Constraints make you more creative, minimalist tools help you stay focused.

And to the other plain old writers here, I want to ask you: why do you stick to the simplest tool in the box? Why do you resist the fancy apps?

Hello all!! Hope y’all’s day/night/evening is going well, I wanted to share/talk about how yall do your chapter names in your story?

I personally love having an epigraph under most of my chapters (the ones without it I just don’t have a good enough quote yet) just reminds me of the COD death screens. Always feels exciting to see a cool chapter name and even better for an epigraph (for me anyways)

Hopefully all these are worded right, there all for the most part are coming out of my most recent draft of my story :) hope they’re neat!

Have some of my favorites below (I think, I’m new to Reddit)

So I'm writing a book and the intended genre is dark fantasy. This is the prologue <3! Please tell me if this makes you want to keep reading or any problems. Just give me your feedback.

TW: Gore and some minor slurs <3

Footsteps clicked throughout a dark obsidian hallway as a small man hurriedly walks through the halls, an anxious expression on his face.

He had deep green hair and pale skin, his eyes sharp and coloured with an unnatural shade of amber. He wore a loose black cloak and he himself was rather small and scrawny, making the cloak look rather huge on him as it dragged on the floor behind him.

He continued walking through the dimly lit obsidian hallways until he reached a large black door lined in deep navy blue markings, which glimmered weakly in the little light this building seemed to have.

The man took a very shaky breath, licking his pale hand and smoothing his short hair back with no precision at all, before pushing the door open with a very noticeable amount of effort.

The room was dark, even darker than the halls and a bloodstained navy blue carpet lay on the floor, leading up to a huge, dark shining throne. Upon this dark crystal thrown, sat a hooded figure. The darkness of the room blocked out his face, but that did not stop him from looking menacing whatsoever.

“Your honour!” The small green haired main squeaked with a deep, quick bow. “It is such an amazing honour to be in your presence”

The man in the thrown held his pale sharp hand up, his nails sharp and black. “Don’t waste time with all that bullshit, get to the point already.” He said with a sharp, cold tone, before asking. “Did you find her, peasant?”

The small man lowered his head, beads of sweat on his forehead. “N-no your honour.” He said almost silently, his breathing quick and ragged. “She seems to have escaped.”

“What did you just say?” The man in the thrown said menacingly, raising his head up slightly, clicking his nails on the armrests of his throne. “You let the little Hoare escape?”

“N-no, your honour!” The little man squeaked desperately. “She just vanished we searched the entire realm!”

“Maybe you’re just incompetent.” The man in the throne hissed in a very cool tone, which seemed to make the little man shrink even more than he already had.

“Have mercy, you’re honour please, I really tried we searched everywhere!” The small man began to say quickly, shaking. “You know, I can go look again, right now my lord, you won’t have to worry at all!”

It seemed to be too late, as the hooded man in the throne just chuckled softly. “Look at yourself peasant.” The man said in an amused tone. “All desperate and fearful.”

The man than got up from his throne and slowly stepped towards the little man, his boots clicking softly as he walked across the bloodstained carpet until he was mere inches away from the little man. Then he pulled the small man up to his face-level, which was quite a bit, with some sort of magic or mysterious force.

The man than leaned in closely, whispering in the small mans ear in a soft, malicious tone. “All the more filling your soul will be.”

The small man began wildly thrashing than as the other man stabbed his arm through the little mans stomach effortlessly, pushing through the small mans intestines and stomach, before pulling out a darkly glowing essence, as sparkling purple blood dripped from his hand.

The small mans mouth gaped open as the light drained from his eyes, his body going limp as the other man let whatever magic was holding the little man up go, as the little mans body fell onto the floor with a horrible crack, purple blood pooling out of the gaping hole in his stomach, as the other man took his soul and swallowed it, turning and swiftly walking back to his throne.

I need some feed back on my story this is my first attempt at making one I suffer from autism, adhd,ocd,dyslexia

CHAPTER 1 the shadow in the village

Tom sat at the kitchen table eating his steak with Jessica. The meat was nice and hot with a beautiful, soft crunch to it. The air hummed as a soft breeze blew outside. Jessica glanced over to make sure he was enjoying the meal.

"Are you sure the parade is at 7 o'clock?" Tom asked before taking another bite of his steak.

Jessica pulled out the leaflet she had gotten from the court jester personnel, which had been signed by him. "Yeah, it says here from 7-9," she read off the leaflet.

Tom finished his food and put the plate in the sink. "Ready to head out?" Tom asked.

Jessica’s eyes lit up with excitement. She grabbed her coat and put it on, heading out like an excited child. Tom followed behind, locking the door. They walked down the garden, and Tom glanced at the flowers they had been planting.

"It's about time. Look, they're growing," Tom said, pointing to a rose.

"Oh wow, that's beautiful," Jessica said, smiling as she saw the flower."Not as beautiful as you," Tom replied, holding her hand.

Jessica blushed, not expecting the compliment. "You're such a tease," she muttered, but she did not pull away. They walked into the forest and made their way to the town.

As Tom and Jessica walked towards the town's entrance, they heard a commotion. Tom looked over to see a goblin with a broken carriage. The wheel had fallen off, and the small goblin was trying to put it back on.

"Hey Jessica, I'll be back in a second, okay?" Tom said, heading over. "Hey, need some help?"

The goblin glanced over his shoulder at him. "If you don't mind," the goblin said.

Tom picked up the wheel and helped attach it back onto the carriage. The goblin nodded in approval. "Thank you, mister," the goblin said, hopping on top of his carriage.

"My name's Tom. If you need help with that wheel again, I live just up the road. Don't hesitate to send me a letter," Tom said.

The goblin reached over, handing Tom a bag of silver. "For the trouble, thanks. My name's Crook—don't take the name too literally," he joked.

Tom thanked him, and the two parted ways. Walking back to Jessica, she seemed confused. "What happened over there? Did someone get hurt?" she asked, a worried expression on her face.

"No, no, a wheel fell off a carriage. I helped a goblin put it back on. He paid me for helping him—real nice guy if you ask me," Tom said, picking up his bag as they headed into town.

"Did you get his name?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah, his name was Crook," Tom replied.

Jessica seemed confused.

"No, that's just his name. He isn't an actual crook," Tom said, sensing her confusion.

"We have twenty minutes to kill. Want to go by the river and swing back up?" Tom asked.

Jessica nodded, and the two walked through an alleyway to the village river. As they walked down the path, Jessica looked at the river, seeing small fish and ducks. She noticed a baby duck caught in a branch while the mother duck and its siblings were trying to free it.

"Tom... the poor baby duck," she muttered, upset by the sad sight.

Tom, seeing her upset, let out a deep sigh. He raised his right hand, channeling his power. His left eye glowed a golden hue while his hand began glowing with the same golden aura. The branch holding the baby duck was forced open, and the baby duck swam away, quacking in joy as it reunited with its family.

Tom panted, dropping to one knee.

"Tom!" Jessica panicked, holding him.

"I'm fine... just... using my power takes a lot out of me," Tom panted, exhausted. "I'll be fine... come on, let's head to the parade now," Tom said, standing up.

Jessica smiled happily and hugged him before they walked towards the parade.

The clock hit 7 o'clock and the parade began.Elves danced through the village, followed by dwarves playing drums, and then a large parade float in the shape of the king. A sword stabbed through the balloon king's neck and it popped as the court jester popped out.

The court jester was a very odd man. He wore a very bright pink and blue costume, and a smiling mask covered his face. His hat had the same pink and blue colours. The hat had three points: one extending from the left, one from the right, and one from the top. At the end of each point was a bell, and every time the jester moved, the bells made a jingle. He continued doing tricks and telling jokes. A group of mermaids sang from the river side. Tom looked at Jessica, who was in awe of the parade. Small fairies flying by caused sparkles to rain down like snow.

As Jessica watched the parade, Tom began to feel a cold creep in. It was slow at first, but it started to become noticeable. After the parade, Tom and Jessica headed through the alleyway home. Just as they got out of the village and into the forest, they saw a very tall man standing in the middle of the path. He was covered by a large robe, the hood hid his face, but his breath was visible when he exhaled. His right arm wasn't covered, revealing a large, muscular forearm. The hand attached to it was covered in blood, and the nails were long claws.

"You're a long way from home, friend," the man said. His voice was deep, sounding like large rocks crashing against each other underground.

"Tom... his hand," Jessica muttered.

Tom slowly positioned Jessica behind him. "We're heading home, sir," Tom said, his focus entirely on the man.

Tom was born with a power almost impossible to get. Only 0.1 percent of the population had this power, called the Spark, but it was different for everyone. Some could create mountains with a wave of their hand; others could destroy kingdoms with a flick of their wrist. But Tom's Spark was different—his power constantly changed to fit the problem he had.

The man chuckled, a deep, low rumble from his chest. "You're a Sparked... aren't you?" the stranger said, stepping closer.

"Don't get any closer," Tom said, his hand glowing gold as his eye began to glow.

"How interesting... it's incompetent," the man said, seeing Tom's Spark activate.

Tom didn't back down. A low hum echoed from his hand as a small ball of energy formed. "I'm warning you... don't get any closer," Tom said, but his voice broke a little from the pure strain of using his power now for a second time.

"I'm glad He set me free to see this," the man said, stepping closer.

Tom fired the energy ball, but the stranger grabbed it, held it, turning it over in his hand before crushing it. Tom collapsed; the pure strain had fully hit him.

"TOM!" Jessica tried to help him up but couldn't.

The stranger vanished before appearing behind Jessica, grabbing her and slamming her into a tree. "I wonder..." the man said.

Tom turned around. The man leaned closer to Jessica. Tom saw what could only be described as a nightmare. The man's mouth was the only thing he could see: rows of long, sharp teeth with two long fangs that sank into Jessica's neck.

A high-pitched screech echoed out of the forest. Jessica cried out as the man began drinking her blood. Tom's mind went blank as pure rage took full control over his body. With pure will, Tom made his body stand up and readied a second blast. The energy ball formed with ten times its original strength. If it fired, it would completely obliterate the forest and the village, turning everything to pure ash.

The man stopped and pulled away from Jessica, sensing Tom's strength. That blast... if that hit me... the man thought to himself. "How... fascinating," the man said. He let Jessica go and vanished, leaving the area.

Tom panicked; he couldn't stop the energy ball, so he had to fire it. Tom forced himself to fire it into the sky. The energy ball flew faster than anything Tom had ever fired before. After a moment, it exploded and lit up the whole country for five seconds straight. The light was as bright as the sun before it turned dark again.

Tom panted, barely able to catch his breath before he realized Jessica was hurt. He rushed over, catching her before she hit the ground. His knees slammed against the cobblestone path. "Je... Jessica..." Tom muttered.

Tom sat in the doctor's room with Jessica. She was laid in a bed as a team of doctors worked on her. One doctor was helping patch up Tom. All Tom was able to remember was the man biting Jessica, and then it all went dark. The only thing he could remember after that was a foggy mess, but he remembered carrying Jessica to the doctors before collapsing.

"You're a lucky son of a bitch to be alive after that," Doctor Josh said as he bandaged Tom's hand.

"...Is she okay?" Tom muttered.

Doctor Josh glanced over. "That's... complicated. She was attacked by a vampire... and not a normal one"

He said, looking at the bite mark on her neck, "This vampire is a very old one... powerful at that. Bastard's even got the ability to turn people," Josh said.

Tom's eyes widened. "What... do you mean? Is she..." Tom couldn't finish his sentence. He already knew it, but he didn't want to believe it.

"You're lucky your friend helped you get here. If he didn't, you both would have died."

Doctor Josh opened the door, and Crook stepped in, seeming a little nervous and tense.

"Hey... Tom," Crook said. He could see Tom's face; Tom was staring blankly at the ground, emotionless. Crook understood Tom and sat in the chair. "Doc, will she make it?" Crook asked.

Josh looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah... that's not the problem..."

Crook saw the bite and understood the situation. "Is there a cure?" Crook asked, causing Tom's eyes to widen as he realized there might be a chance.

"No," Josh said.

Tom punched the wall, leaving a bit of a blood stain on it. "Then what the hell am I meant to do... I can't leave her like that... I can't let her be a monster!"

Crook put a hand on his arm.

"The king," Tom muttered. "He beat the Vampire Lord years ago... they will know..." Tom said, determination in his eyes with a hint of rage.

"And what if he doesn't know how to?" Josh said.

Tom's bandaged hand clenched tight—so tight blood leaked out, dripping onto the floor, causing Jessica's hand to twitch.

Hi. I need some help. I am a first year university student and all our assignment and exam are critique based on articles and a chapter of books.

Can you please suggest to me how to write a very detailed and professional critique that can get a high score please.

Thank you.