will graham ⬥ hannibal — jorge luis borges, “the other tiger”
sick of using "very _____" ? : https://www.losethevery.com/
want to simplify your writing ? : https://hemingwayapp.com/
writing buddies / motivation ? : https://nanowrimo.org
word you're looking for but don't know ? : https://www.onelook.com/thesaurus/
need a fantasy name ? : https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/
need a fantasy name ? : https://nameberry.com/
want a name with meaning ? : https://www.behindthename.com/
who wants a map maker! : https://inkarnate.com/
story building / dnd ? : https://www.worldanvil.com/
need some minimalistic writing time ? : https://zenpen.io/
running out of ideas ? : https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/
setting a goal ? how about 3 pages / day ? : https://new.750words.com/
what food did they eat ? : https://www.foodtimeline.org/
questions on diversity within writing ? : https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/
now what was that colour called ? : https://ingridsundberg.com/2014/02/04/the-color-thesaurus/
want more? : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lyralit :]
I mean
Hanif Abdurraqib, A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance
there was no perfect path. you did not get punished. your life did not unravel when you made a left turn. the memory will always be there. you can visit whenever you want. there is no alternate timeline where you made a better choice and got a happier ending. you were a little girl chasing the ice cream truck, playing hopscotch, swinging and aiming for the never ending blue. yes, the grief was waiting up ahead. but so was the miracle of saturdays in a car headed wherever you wanted to go. enough sky to wrap around every wound. friends who, despite your perennial bouts of silence, kept an ear close at all times.
My dad has a massive vegetable garden and it is his life. Whenever I ask how things are going, he tells me about the garden. Periodically he will text me a picture of the things he's harvested and ask when I'm coming to pick them up. And for a while, the biggest bit of garden gossip has been his nemesis, the gopher. This gopher was consistently ruining his day by pilfering the best of everything just before my dad could harvest it. Anytime I talked to him, all he had to tell me about was "that damned gopher." He dreamt about killing the gopher, his truest enemy. He tried to train the dog to hunt the gopher, but the dog is a pacifist. He led some of the barn cats to the holes, but the barn cats have unionized and refused his offered rate. He then laid no-kill traps (can't risk having poison near the crops) with eventual gophercide in mind, but then suddenly he was faced with a cute and terrified animal and didn't have the heart. He released it. "He was so scared, he'll never come back." The gopher was back the next day, with a vengeance. That was some weeks ago. Today, my dad sent me pictures of his garden, and I saw a squash gently laid by the gopher's hole, like a package left on the doorstep. I said "Dad, what's that squash doing there by the gopher hole?" He said "Oh, he likes squash best." In an effort to appease the gopher, my father now gives him a little squash everyday, like leaving an offering for a garden spirit. This apparently works well as a compromise; the gopher has stopped stealing, content to have his meals delivered to his door.
— Sunrise, by Louise Glück
You can love a character & still admit when they’re wrong. I love Kaz Brekker but I acknowledge his flaws (none, he’s perfect) and I can hold him accountable for his wrongdoings (he’s never done anything wrong in his life) an call him out on his actions (which are always right).
"See what you are. Don’t ask others, don’t let others tell you about yourself. Look within and see."
Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj
“what have you been up to lately?” i don’t leave the house