Latest Posts by renywrites - Page 4

religious experience

Sit down in the waves

Let the water wash over you

Let it crash over your head

Surround you

Fill your lungs

Let it whisper sweet truths to you

Let it promise you eternity

Feel the sand scratch over your legs

Feel it beneath your fingernails

Let the salt sit on your tongue

Hang on your breath

Sting your throat

Let the ocean wash away your worries

Feel the tide drag you into deep solitude

This is your place now

Sat at the bottom

Safe in the sand

Singing songs of worship

With salt-rasped words

No need for oxygen

Let the ocean fill you with peace

As the days drag on into sweet oblivion

Come and sit with me

Safe and sound

Come and sit with the crabs

Come and feel the rocks on your feet

Come worship with me the haunting harmony of the waves

A never ending eternity

This Is Why We Go To Camp

At six years old, Keith was a scrawny, pale, wild haired little boy. He was short tempered and quiet, had a difficult time making friends, and preferred his books and karate classes to playing on the playground and going outside. 

As such, Keith had also never been up to the mountains. Mountains were hard to come by in the stifling desert heat of Arizona. So when a flier from the local parks and rec department came, advertising a six week sleep-away camp, his parents had thought it was a great idea to send Keith away to “make some friends” and “have a good time” away from home. He was less than thrilled for many reasons.

Keith’s List of Reasons Why He Should Not Go to Summer Camp:

(Presented by Keith. Written by Keith. Copyrighted by Keith.)

1. Summer camp is outside. Outside has bugs. Bugs bite.

2. There are going to be lots of other kids.

3. I won’t be able to read in the outdoors.

4. I have never spent the night away from home.

His list of reasons was very convincing, but not convincing enough for his parents not to put him on a bus full of loud children with a suitcase full of clothes and only one book for the whole trip. 

Keith can’t remember much of the bus ride there, now that he’s older, but he does remember stepping off the bus and stepping into a sea of children, overwhelmed and definitely smaller than everyone else. He had always been a nervous child, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. There were so many children, all of whom weren’t paying him any attention. 

“Hey! Are you lost?”

Keith remembered this moment quite clearly — it was one of his most fond memories. He looked up at a tall, gangly, grinning boy. There was a bandaid on his knee and dirt smeared on his cheek. He had the bluest eyes Keith had ever seen. 

“Yes,” he remembers saying, tilting his head back to look up at him. 

“My name is Lance,” the boy had said, holding out a hand to him. “I’ll help you find where you’re supposed to go.”

That was the day he met his best friend.

*

“Keith!”

Twelve years later, and Keith was still going to the same camp, but now he was a counselor instead of a camper. He was still a little awkward, still a little hot tempered, but this camp had done a world of good for him. Besides, he had met the single most important person in his life here.

“Hey, Lance.” He looks up from his clipboard, grinning at his best friend. Lance had grown into the gangly limbs. Now he was tall and handsome and often the object of many middle school girls’ affection (not that Keith could blame him, be still his gay little heart). 

“You get stuck in the Beavers cabin again?” Lance teases, slowing to a stop in front of Keith and reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Keith ducks away from his hand, swatting at him with his clipboard. “Um, excuse you, but the Beaver cabin is the best cabin.”

“Uh, no. The Turtle cabin is superior, obviously.” Lance laughs. 

Keith rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we’ll see about that at the tug of war competition.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault it rained and the mud got my kids.” 

“No, but maybe it’s because you have no upper body strength.” Keith teases. 

Lance gasps, pretending to clutch his pearls. “The audacity. How dare you come into my house-”

“This is the woods.”

“-with that sort of talk! Keith Akira Kogane, I expected better of you. And to think, they let you around children.” Lance whispers the word children, shaking his head gravely. 

“Yeah, it’s a tragedy.” Keith agrees, looking down at his clipboard.

“How many kids do you have this year, anyway?” Lance peeks over his shoulder. 

He does a quick count, smiling when he sees a couple familiar names. “Mm… seven, I think. They said they might add a couple kids if there are any last minute scholarships.”

“Hey, same!” Lance grins, taking his hand and pulling him along toward the place where the buses were going to pull in. “Come on, the kids will be here any second.”

“I’m coming!” Keith laughs, stumbling after him and shaking his head. 

He looks up at his best friend as they walk, his smile melding into something softer. Lance had been his best friend for twelve years, but at least in the past two, he’d developed a, er… crush. It was no secret that Lance was attractive — there was a reason he was the most popular counselor among all the kids. Not only was he handsome, but he was charismatic and had a way with the kids that Keith was always bordering on jealous of. 

But there was no way that Keith would ever make a move on it. They lived in different states, for one, and he wasn’t even sure that Lance even leaned toward guys. He didn’t want to ruin what they had. So, for now, he was happy with spending six weeks of his summer with his best friend and spending hours on the phone after camp was over, counting down to the next summer. 

There was no need to dwell on this, though, not with the buses pulling up to the campgrounds. He looks over at them, letting a smile tug at his own lips. This was the start of yet another great summer. 

And to think, twelve years ago, he’d tried to talk his parents out of sending him here.

me, looking at my three unfinished fics: being a mother is hard

We might actually have content soon! What a concept!

You ever try to write romance and you just feel like this image

When I die…

… plant catnip on my grave. I want to be visited by lots and lots of cats.

Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.

Thank you for tagging me!!

My hair is actually hot pink but that's okay-

I tag: @i-am-here-for-klance @presumptivelyalesbian @chelebel @crydevilakira (hi guys it's reny)

Tag Game

go to this website and design yourself https://picrew.me/image_maker/9889 and then tag 4 people 

@the-erikalypse @ethan-loves-you @sugarnitwitch @fanbun (Only if u want too ) 

Today is the day that I put my foot down.

Today is the day that I stand up for myself. Today is the day that I see through you. Today is the day that I call you out. Today is the day that you face your homophobia and call yourself what you are.

You are the reason we march. You are the reason we raise our flags. You are the reason we dress up in vivid colors, the reason we scream at the top of our lungs, the reason we wear our pins, the reason we sell our merch, the reason I write these words.

Because without you, we would be free. Without you, we would not have to march and scream. Without you, our existence would be so much easier. I would not be afraid of every man who might want to “correct” my sexuality. My friend would not have to correct everyone who uses the incorrect pronouns. My girlfriend and I would not have to fear holding hands in public.

This month is full of pride and happiness and acceptance and love. There’s a reason we call it Pride Month. You will not — I will not let you — take that away from us.

I stand with my brothers and sisters and all of the people in between. I will protect them and love them and shield them from the hate that you so desperately throw at us. You may spit on us from the sidelines, you may wave those signs, you may take the lives of innocent people — but we will not falter.

I once was a part of a religion that had a song with the verse that said “we won’t be shaken.” Whatever my relationship with religion may be, that verse has always stuck with me. And now, it’s become an anthem.

You look me dead in the eyes and call the people I have come to love and who have accepted me with open arms degenerates. You tell me the parade and celebration we hold every year has a premise that is not allowed in thoughts, in hearts, in minds. By doing this, you degrade my family and you condemn our feelings.

Today is the day I put my foot down.

I am proud of who I am. I have worked hard to pull myself from the closet you filled with shame, guilt, and hatred. I have come to accept myself and I am still exploring every spectrum, nook, and cranny with the woman I love. I am in love. I am happy. I am proud.

You can scream, you can cry, you can take away the things we love and put us in a box. But this is your warning — you will not keep us there. We are here, we are queer, and we are ready to kick some fucking ass.

Today is the day you eat your fucking words.

**

So I’m back, and I’m pissed, and I’m ready for the world to kiss my ass. I think it’s about time I wrote all this down in words that I hope are inspiring. 

Leave a comment or send an ask about your thoughts, or maybe just say hi. Gay rights, baby! Happy fucking Pride.

Hey so I was gonna write something for you guys this evening, but my parents were on their usual homophobic bullshit and now im really emotional and have a headache so. I may not write anything tonight. Sorry I haven't been very active! Hope you all are well 💜

me having a new idea for a relatively short fic:

Hey! I wanna write again! Send me prompts! Preferably fluffy ones because I need summery fluff!

more on writing muslim characters from a hijabi muslim girl

- hijabis get really excited over pretty scarves - they also like to collect pins and brooches - we get asked a lot of questions and it can be annoying or it can be amusing, just depends on our mood and personality and how the question is phrased - common questions include: - “not even water?” (referring to fasting) - hijabis hear a lot of “do you sleep in that?” (we don’t) and “where is your hair?” (in a bun or a braid, usually) - “is it mooze-slim or mozzlem?” (the answer is neither, it’s muslim, with a soft s and accent on the first syllable) - “ee-slam or iz-lamb?” (it’s iss-laam, accent on the first syllable) - “hee-job?” (heh-jahb, accent on the second syllable)

- “kor-an?” (no. quran. say it like koor-annn, accent on the second syllable) - people tend to mess up our names really badly and you just get a sigh and a resigned nod or an awkward smile, maybe a nickname instead - long hair is easy to hide, short hair is harder to wrap up - hijab isn’t just covering hair, it’s also showing as little skin as possible with the exception of face, hands, and feet, and not wearing tight/sheer clothing - that applies to men too, people just don’t like to mention it ( i wonder why) - henna/mehendi isn’t just for special occasions, you’ll see people wearing it for fun - henna/mehendi isn’t just for muslims, either, it’s not a religious thing - henna/mehendi is not just for women, men also wear it, especially on their weddings - there are big mehendi parties in the couple of nights before eid where people (usually just women and kids) gather and do each other’s mehendi, usually just hands and feet - five daily prayers - most muslim kids can stutter through a couple verses of quran in the original arabic text by the age of seven or eight, it does not matter where they live or where they’re from or what language they speak natively - muslim families tend to have multiple copies of the quran - there are no “versions” of the quran, there has only ever been one. all muslims follow the exact same book - muslims have no concept of taking God’s name in vain, we call on God at every little inconvenience - don’t use islamic phrases if you don’t know what they mean or how to use them. we use them often, inside and outside of religious settings. in islam, it is encouraged to mention God often and we say these things very casually, but we take them very seriously - Allahu Akbar means “God is Greatest” (often said when something shocks or surprises us, or if we’re scared or daunted, or when something amazing happens, whether it be good or bad; it’s like saying “oh my god”) - Subhan Allah means “Glory be to God” (i say subhan Allah at the sky, at babies, at trees, whatever strikes me as pleasant, especially if it’s in nature) - Bismillah means “in the name of God” and it’s just something you say before you start something like eating or doing your homework - In Shaa Allah means “if God wills” (example: you’ll be famous, in shaa Allah) (it’s a reminder that the future is in God’s hands, so be humble and be hopeful)

- Astaghfirullah means “i seek forgiveness from Allah” and it’s like “god forgive me” - Alhamdulillah means “all thanks and praise belong to God” and it’s just a little bit more serious than saying “thank god” (example: i passed my exams, alhamdulillah; i made it home okay, alhamdulillah) - when i say we use them casually, i really mean it - teacher forgot to assign homework? Alhamdulillah - our version of “amen” is “ameen” - muslims greet each other with “assalamu alaikum” which just means “peace be on you” and it’s like saying hi - the proper response is “walaikum assalam” which means “and on you be peace” and it’s like saying “you too”

I know I haven't been writing a lot lately but I needed a change in pace. Depression has been kicking my ass and writing only seems to make it worse, so I'm taking a slight hiatus to get myself together and try out a new creative outlet until I get my bearings.

I thought I'd share it with you! If you guys have any experience with this I'd love to hear your thoughts or ideas! Love you guys ❤️

Okay so cutting fabric is a bitch but I’m actually really excited to start sewing?? I enlisted my mom for help but she’s… Very controlling so we’ll see.

I’m making a cloak! My girlfriend wants to do hella beadwork! Wish us luck!

LOOK I GOT A HAIRCUT

I have reached PEAK GAY

I’m printing this tweet and putting it on my desk

HOW TO SPEAK WRITER: 

“my characters have a mind of their own!” - no i’m not mad and yes i know i made them up but i have no idea what’s happening anymore please save me

“i’m going to write today!” - i’d actually rather wash the garden path but the house is already pristine and i’ve run out of excuses

 “this is still a rough draft so go easy on me!” - i have spent what feels like forever pouring my very soul into this but i worry it’s terrible and if you’re mean i may just cry

“i’ll update soon!” - this is utterly killing me, i don’t know how to read anymore, what are words, help 

“i just had this idea and had to share it with you guys!” - this has taken me three weeks and countless hours please love and appreciate it

“feedback appreciated :D” - please, i live for validation! i need comments!! 

There’s a fic on fanfiction(.)net that I’ve kept tabs on for years to see if it’s been updated or not. While I’m no longer even in the fandom it’s written for, it just has one of the greatest storylines I’ve ever read. Last time it was updated was 2011.

The other day, I decided to reread the entire thing and leave a very in-depth review of what I thought of each chapter. I also mentioned how I started reading it when I was 13 and am now 21, but always came back to see if it was ever finished because I loved it so dearly.

Today, said author sent me a private message saying that her analytics showed that the story was still getting views even after all these years, but no one ever bothered to leave reviews other than “update soon!!!”, so she never felt motivated enough to finish it. She said that me reviewing every single chapter with lengthy paragraphs made her cry and meant the world to her. She also mentioned that she felt encouraged to write the two remaining chapters needed to complete the story and that she would send me a message the night before she updates the fic.

I’m literally sobbing. I’m so excited :’)

Please always remember to leave a review when reading fanfiction!!! It means a lot to a writer.

90% of writing advice can be thrown out the window for your first draft.

Show don’t tell? Ignore.

Basic grammar and punctuation? Unnecessary. 

Physical descriptions of characters? Don’t need to bother. 

Solid plot? That’s for later. 

The words don’t come as fast when you’re thinking of the best way to put them together. It doesn’t have to be pretty, or much more than inconsistent nonsense.  The point is to have it exist.

Effective storytelling is for subsequent drafts! Go write some nonsense! 

There’s something very nice about remembering fics you read years ago. Maybe you remember the plot perfectly, maybe the rest of the fic is only a blur aside from a handful of vivid scenes, but you remember the way it made you feel. And sometimes you dredge up the memory - the premise or a favourite scene or a few lines that stayed with you -  and your heart aches a little bit, the way it does when you think about books you enjoyed as a child.

To all the fanfiction writers out there: your work is beautiful and meaningful and it leaves an impact. I promise.

“reblogs aren’t important you’re just whiny”

yeah because when you see this

tell me you don’t get annoyed.

tumblr’s algorithm only cares about posts that are reblogged, it doesn’t count likes. posts don’t get promoted or circulated when they only have likes (the way instagram functions), only reblogs matter for increasing reach on tumblr as a platform.

support content creators.

Writing Tip:

If you don’t feel like actually writing, prepare for writing:

Open your WIP Word doc

Read the last page again

Scribble notes on what happens next

Once you’ve done this, you might just find yourself wanting to continue after all. And if you don’t, no worries. You’ve made it easier to jump back into it later. 

how to trick writers into giving you more fanfic to read

I found a company called “Frantic Meerkat” who makes journals whose sole purpose is to call me out

Trying to find the perfect name for a character, but you only have a vague idea of what you want, like “he feels like a 2-syllable kind of guy” or “It need a hard consonant at the end.”   

Writing about a child rapist did not make Vladimir Nabokov a child rapist.

Writing about an authoritarian theocracy did not make Margaret Atwood an authoritarian theocrat.

Writing about adultery did not make Leo Tolstoy an adulterer.

Writing about a ghost did not make Toni Morrison a ghost.

Writing about a murderer did not make Fyodor Dostoevsky a murderer.

Writing about a teenage addict did not make Isabel Allende a teenage addict.

Writing about dragons and ice zombies did not make George R.R. Martin either of those things.

Writing about rich heiresses, socially awkward bachelors, and cougar widows did not make Jane Austen any of those things.

Writing about people who can control earthquakes did not make N.K. Jemisin able to control earthquakes.

Writing about your favorite characters and/or ships in situations that you choose does not make you a bad person.

It’s a shame that in this day and age these things need to be said.

Presented without comment.

EXCEPT to say- commonplacecaz.

Okay I lied I'm good at procrastination and bad at progress...

I got some new records yesterday and I actually have my journal out so… Who knows, maybe I’ll have something up this weekend!

(special visit from my dad’s Lego replica of Voltron and Darth Goofy)

I got some new records yesterday and I actually have my journal out so... Who knows, maybe I'll have something up this weekend!

(special visit from my dad's Lego replica of Voltron and Darth Goofy)