you don’t realize how bad it is until you start noticing that impatience has become common currency. watching a full 2-hour movie from the comfort of your couch is torture - even a 25-minute series episode is too much. you can’t stand still while waiting for the bus without reaching out for your phone and opening something - any app, even to check the weather for the millionth time that day.
even conversations are suddenly taking too long, and when you look around, you start hearing all these absurd stories of how people are skipping paragraphs while ‘reading’ books because they think descriptions are boring or just ‘need to’ finish faster to reach their reading goals.
10 Traits That Make a Character Secretly Dangerous
❥ Disarming Humor. They’re the life of the party. Everyone’s laughing. No one’s noticing how much they aren’tsaying.
❥ Laser-Sharp Observation. They see everything. Who’s nervous. Who’s lying. Who would be easiest to break. And they don’t miss.
❥ Unsettling Calm. Even in chaos, they stay still. Smiling. Thinking. Calculating.
❥ Weaponized Empathy. They know how to make people trust them. Because they know exactly what people want to hear.
❥ Compartmentalization. They can do something brutal, then eat lunch like nothing happened.
❥ Controlling Niceness. The kind of kindness that’s sharp-edged. You feel guilty for not loving them.
❥ Mirroring Behavior. They become whatever the person in front of them needs. It's not flattery. It’s survival—or manipulation.
❥ Selective Vulnerability. They know how to spill just enough pain to make you drop your guard.
❥ History of “Bad Luck”. Ex-friends, ex-lovers, ex-colleagues… they all left under “unfortunate” circumstances. But the pattern says otherwise.
❥ Unshakeable Confidence in Their Morality. They don’t think they’re the villain. That makes them scarier.
Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.
Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!
Amaryllis: Pride
Black-eyed Susan: Justice
Bluebell: Humility
Calla Lily: Beauty
Pink Camellia: Longing
Carnations: Female love
Yellow Carnation: Rejection
Clematis: Mental beauty
Columbine: Foolishness
Cyclamen: Resignation
Daffodil: Unrivalled love
Daisy: Innocence, loyalty
Forget-me-not: True love
Gardenia: Secret love
Geranium: Folly, stupidity
Gladiolus: Integrity, strength
Hibiscus: Delicate beauty
Honeysuckle: Bonds of love
Blue Hyacinth: Constancy
Hydrangea: Frigid, heartless
Iris: Faith, trust, wisdom
White Jasmine: Amiability
Lavender: Distrust
Lilac: Joy of youth
White Lily: Purity
Orange Lily: Hatred
Tiger Lily: Wealth, pride
Lily-of-the-valley: Sweetness, humility
Lotus: Enlightenment, rebirth
Magnolia: Nobility
Marigold: Grief, jealousy
Morning Glory: Affection
Nasturtium: Patriotism, conquest
Pansy: Thoughtfulness
Peony: Bashfulness, shame
Poppy: Consolation
Red Rose: Love
Yellow Rose: Jealously, infidelity
Snapdragon: Deception, grace
Sunflower: Adoration
Sweet Willian: Gallantry
Red Tulip: Passion
Violet: Watchfulness, modesty
Yarrow: Everlasting love
Zinnia: Absent, affection
How do you become a writer? Answer: you write.
It’s amazing how much resentment and disgust and evasion this answer can arouse. Even among writers, believe me. It is one of those Horrible Truths one would rather not face.
The most frequent evasive tactic is for the would-be writer to say, But before I have anything to say, I must get experience.
Well, yes; if you want to be a journalist. But I don’t know anything about journalism, I’m talking about fiction. And of course fiction is made out of experience, your whole life from infancy on, everything you’ve thought and done and seen and read and dreamed. But experience isn’t something you go and get—it’s a gift, and the only prerequisite for receiving it is that you be open to it. A closed soul can have the most immense adventures, go through a civil war or a trip to the moon, and have nothing to show for all that “experience”; whereas the open soul can do wonders with nothing. I invite you to meditate on a pair of sisters. Emily and Charlotte. Their life experience was an isolated vicarage in a small, dreary English village, a couple of bad years at a girls’ school, another year or two in Brussels, which is surely the dullest city in all Europe, and a lot of housework. Out of that seething mass of raw, vital, brutal, gutsy Experience they made two of the greatest novels ever written: Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights.
Now, of course they were writing from experience; writing about what they knew, which is what people always tell you to do; but what was their experience? What was it they knew? Very little about “life.” They knew their own souls, they knew their own minds and hearts; and it was not a knowledge lightly or easily gained. From the time they were seven or eight years old, they wrote, and thought, and learned the landscape of their own being, and how to describe it. They wrote with the imagination, which is the tool of the farmer, the plow you plow your own soul with. They wrote from inside, from as deep inside as they could get by using all their strength and courage and intelligence. And that is where books come from. The novelist writes from inside.
I’m rather sensitive on this point, because I write science fiction, or fantasy, or about imaginary countries, mostly—stuff that, by definition, involves times, places, events that I could not possibly experience in my own life. So when I was young and would submit one of these things about space voyages to Orion or dragons or something, I was told, at extremely regular intervals, “You should try to write about things you know about.” And I would say, But I do; I know about Orion, and dragons, and imaginary countries. Who do you think knows about my own imaginary countries, if I don’t?
But they didn’t listen, because they don’t understand, they have it all backward. They think an artist is like a roll of photographic film, you expose it and develop it and there is a reproduction of Reality in two dimensions. But that’s all wrong, and if any artist tells you, “I am a camera,” or “I am a mirror,” distrust them instantly, they’re fooling you, pulling a fast one. Artists are people who are not at all interested in the facts—only in the truth. You get the facts from outside. The truth you get from inside.
OK, how do you go about getting at that truth? You want to tell the truth. You want to be a writer. So what do you do?
You write.
Honestly, why do people ask that question? Does anybody ever come up to a musician and say, Tell me, tell me—how should I become a tuba player? No! It’s too obvious. If you want to be a tuba player you get a tuba, and some tuba music. And you ask the neighbors to move away or put cotton in their ears. And probably you get a tuba teacher, because there are quite a lot of objective rules and techniques both to written music and to tuba performance. And then you sit down and you play the tuba, every day, every week, every month, year after year, until you are good at playing the tuba; until you can—if you desire—play the truth on the tuba.
It is exactly the same with writing. You sit down and you do it, and you do it, and you do it, until you have learned how to do it.
Of course, there are differences. Writing makes no noise, except groans, and it can be done anywhere, and it is done alone.
It is the experience or premonition of that loneliness, perhaps, that drives a lot of young writers into this search for rules. I envy musicians very much, myself. They get to play together, their art is largely communal; and there are rules to it, an accepted body of axioms and techniques, which can be put into words or at least demonstrated, and so taught. Writing cannot be shared, nor can it be taught as a technique, except on the most superficial level. All a writer’s real learning is done alone, thinking, reading other people’s books, or writing—practicing. A really good writing class or workshop can give us some shadow of what musicians have all the time—the excitement of a group working together, so that each member outdoes himself—but what comes out of that is not a collaboration, a joint accomplishment, like a string quartet or a symphony performance, but a lot of totally separate, isolated works, expressions of individual souls. And therefore there are no rules, except those each individual makes up.
I know. There are lots of rules. You find them in the books about The Craft of Fiction and The Art of the Short Story and so on. I know some of them. One of them says: Never begin a story with dialogue! People won’t read it; here is somebody talking and they don’t know who and so they don’t care, so—Never begin a story with dialogue.
Well, there is a story I know, it begins like this:
“Eh bien, mon prince! so Genoa and Lucca are now no more than private estates of the Bonaparte family!”
It’s not only a dialogue opening, the first four words are in French, and it’s not even a French novel. What a horrible way to begin a book! The title of the book is War and Peace.
There’s another Rule I know: introduce all the main characters early in the book. That sounds perfectly sensible, mostly I suppose it is sensible, but it’s not a rule, or if it is somebody forgot to tell it to Charles Dickens. He didn’t get Sam Weller into The Pickwick Papers for ten chapters—that’s five months, since the book was coming out as a serial in installments.
Now, you can say, All right, so Tolstoy can break the rules, so Dickens can break the rules, but they’re geniuses; rules are made for geniuses to break, but for ordinary, talented, not-yet-professional writers to follow, as guidelines.
And I would accept this, but very very grudgingly, and with so many reservations that it amounts in the end to nonacceptance. Put it this way: if you feel you need rules and want rules, and you find a rule that appeals to you, or that works for you, then follow it. Use it. But if it doesn’t appeal to you or doesn’t work for you, then ignore it; in fact, if you want to and are able to, kick it in the teeth, break it, fold staple mutilate and destroy it.
See, the thing is, as a writer you are free. You are about the freest person that ever was. Your freedom is what you have bought with your solitude, your loneliness. You are in the country where you make up the rules, the laws. You are both dictator and obedient populace. It is a country nobody has ever explored before. It is up to you to make the maps, to build the cities. Nobody else in the world can do it, or ever could do it, or ever will be able to do it again.
Excerpted from THE LANGUAGE OF THE NIGHT by Ursula K. Le Guin. Copyright © 1989 by Ursula K. Le Guin.
I recommend Le Guin's book about writing, Steering the Craft:
Use sticky notes to write down and organize major plot points
When inspiration for an idea strikes, write it down every single time. You never know if you might need that idea, and if you don’t write it, you will forget it.
Write the dialogue first. That way, you have a set up for a scene, but don’t have to focus too hard on narration.
Write your story by scene by scene. This way, you can focus on a scene at a time instead of an entire story. This does not mean you should stop focusing on writing a story
Remember to eat and drink
When you get stuck, stir up some conflicts.
Get The Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi. It’s a guide for nearly every emotion you can write
Use a notebook and write by hand. I know it sounds awful (and for some, it might be awful) but writing with a pen and paper is drastically different than writing on a laptop, and this can make it so much easier
Remember to have a social life. Friends are important for your well-being (and possibly your wip)
Your outline is there to guide you through your story. But if your story disagrees with your outline, derail from the outline and come back to it when/if you get back on track
If you don’t get back on track, either continue with the story and hope you don’t get stuck, or tweak your outline
How to Write a Character
↠ Start with the basics, because obviously. Name. Age. Gender. Maybe even a birthday if you’re feeling fancy. This is step one because, well, your character needs to exist before they can be interesting. But nobody cares if they’re 27 or 37 unless it actually matters to the story.
↠ Looks aren’t everything… but also, describe them. Yes, we know their soul is more important than their hair color, but readers still need something to visualize. Do they have the kind of face that makes babies cry? Do they always look like they just rolled out of bed? Give us details, not just “tall with brown hair.
↠ Personality isn’t just “kind but tough.” For the love of storytelling, give them more than two adjectives. Are they kind, or do they just pretend to be because they hate confrontation? Are they actually tough, or are they just too emotionally repressed to cry in public? Dig deeper.
↠ Backstory = Trauma (usually). Something shaped them. Maybe it was a messy divorce, maybe they were the middle child and never got enough attention, or maybe they once got humiliated in a spelling bee and never recovered. Whatever it is, make it matter to who they are today.
↠ Give them a goal. Preferably a messy one. If your character’s only motivation is to “be happy” or “do their best,” they’re boring. They need a real goal, one that conflicts with who they are, what they believe in, or what they think they deserve. Bonus points if it wrecks them emotionally.
↠ Make them suffer. Yes, I said it. A smooth, easy journey is not a story. Give them obstacles. Rip things away from them. Make them work for what they want. Nobody wants to read about a character who just gets everything handed to them (unless it’s satire, then carry on).
↠ Relationships = Depth. Nobody exists in a vacuum. Who do they love? Who annoys the hell out of them? Who do they have that messy, can’t-live-with-you-can’t-live-without-you tension with? People shape us. So, shape your character through the people in their life.
↠ Give them a voice that actually sounds like them. If all your characters talk the same, you’ve got a problem. Some people ramble, some overthink, some are blunt to the point of being offensive. Let their voice show who they are. You should be able to tell who’s talking without dialogue tags.
↠ If they don’t grow, what’s the point? People change. They learn things, make mistakes, get their hearts broken, and (hopefully) become a little wiser. If your character starts and ends the story as the same exact person, you just wasted everyone’s time.
↠ Flaws. Give. Them. Flaws. Nobody likes a perfect character. Give them something to struggle with, maybe they’re selfish, maybe they push people away, maybe they’re addicted to the thrill of self-destruction (fun!). Make them real. Make them human.
↠ Relatability is key. Your character doesn’t have to be likable, but they do have to be understandable. Readers need to get them, even if they don’t agree with them. If your character never struggles, never doubts, and never screws up, I have bad news: they’re not a character, they’re a mannequin.
↠ You’re never actually done. Characters evolve, not just in the story, but as you write them. If something feels off, fix it. If they feel flat, dig deeper. Keep refining, rewriting, and letting them surprise you. That’s how you create someone who feels real.
Now go forth and write characters that actually make people feel something. And if you need a reminder, just ask yourself: Would I care if this person existed in real life? If the answer is meh, start over.
I have likely not added many that I've reblogged to this list. Please feel free to roam my blog and/or ask/message me to add something you'd like to see on this list!
Look by @writers-potion
Voices by @saraswritingtipps
Show, Don't Tell by @lyralit
5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists by @writingwithfolklore
How To (Realistically) Make a Habit of Writing by @byoldervine
Let's Talk About Misdirection by @deception-united
Tips to Improve Character Voice by @tanaor
Stephen King's Top 20 Rules for Writers posted by @toocoolformedschool
Fun Things to Add to a Fight Scene (Hand to Hand Edition) by @illarian-rambling
Questions I Ask My Beta Readers by @burntoutdaydreamer
Skip Google for Research by @s-n-arly
Breaking Writing Rules Right: Don't Write Direct Dialogue by @septemberercfawkes
International Clothing
Too Ashamed of Writing To Write by @writingquestionsanswered
"Said" is Beautiful by @blue-eyed-author
unbothered character dialogue + prompts ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
@celestialwrites for more!!
♡ “breathing air that you contaminate deeply unsettles me.”
♡ constantly putting their feet on their superior’s desk/table.
♡ “please remind me why you are relevant.”
♡ always commenting at the worst moment possible.
♡ “life was far more peaceful when i thought you were dead.”
♡ when someone is yelling at them, the character pulls out a book and just starts reading.
♡ “i gave my last fuck two decades ago, you’re going to need a time machine to find it.”
♡ sees a dead body and just sighs, turns around and goes to the breakfast diner across the street.
♡ “if he opens his mouth again i’m calling the cops for a noise disturbance.”
♡ has one hobby that they get really prickly about if people interrupt or make fun of it.
♡ “when did you finally decide to be helpful?”
♡ sees another character having a panic attack and asks them to quiet down so they can finish their crossword puzzle.
♡ “maybe if you were as tall as your ego you would have seen it.”
♡ other characters having to remind them to either pretend to care or not speak at all during important meetings/situations.
♡ “i could bring the heavens crashing down, remember that the next time you interrupt my coffee break.”
♡ being the key part of the team’s plan but will continuously sleep in.
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3
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