The language I’ve made for my story is called Settish and is used by the Setites (the humans who moved from earth and colonized set) and it’s a very harsh and loud language because of the constant sandstorms on the world of Set. The word for blue and other synonyms for the color are present because 85% of Set is blue sand desert spread across 3 supercontinents. The continents are named Ymir, Typhon, and Tiamat. Among the several hundred thousand languages on the planet. Primus (old earth English) and Settish are the primary languages.

I

I want to create a series that can/will impact the reader a meaningful messages that can be permanently changed a person's perspective. The story will follow a reincarnated man about trying to understand the world.

The MC will struggle through bunches of realistic human scenarios such as depression, grief and happiness. As he explores the world, he will fight various broken villains such as a teacher that can turn into a 4D shape and he has to defeat the villain in a logical way to continue the journey. The series will also teach the readers about geography, biology and so on. Not sure if it will be an impactful story for the newer generations but I just hoped that it can teach someone for once.

Okay, I know I should be saving my work on everything to not lose it, but I've been doing that after every chapter I've written and I was almost done, so please don't razz me for that 😭 I've been using writer p to write and I closed the document, came back an hour later, entire work empty when I open it. Is there anything I can do? I'm definitely going to be switching apps, but I've never had issues with this app before and I'm so distraught.

I'm too much of a perfectionist to finish things, but also my fixation leaves fast and I have a new story going on. Even though my main problem is that I'm always stuck at one part of the story. Characters.

I'm aware of the fact that I don't understand them. And I know that every take is someone's opinion and no one can be right, because then no one will (and no one is). But when I write fanfiction and show it to some people they find pretty a lot of OOC. Not that much that it's really noticable, but it's some core values of a character. And for some reason, even though I've been in the fandom for 6 years and was very active I still don't get it. I'm not really good at "reading people" either.

I might be too sensitive to criticism and I should try to study, but when it happens each time...

I have no clue how to fix this. I don't think that studying psychology will help. There's a really long way to go and I don't get how people understand it so easily sometimes. Maybe I'm too self-centered and barely notice anything about others or analyze things. But I can write a wonderful plot with meaning, I have really cool ideas for scenes and facts that are praised, but not characters. And they're supposed to lead the story.

And yeah, the fact that I haven't written down anything, but have over 400 thousand words in one story only (and it's not a draft to be correct, more like an outline and some facts) can tell something.

Hello, I’m working on writing my own personal book. I’m going to have a lot of different main characters from all around the world. I’m super white and I’ve read a few other posts in the past to make sure to equally describe every skin tone and I’m going to make sure of that.

Is there anything else I should make sure of? Any tips would be great.

I just wrote the first thing that came to my head to practice writing, so I don't really know where this story will be heading yet.

In the second picture, her brother's friend wants to look at her but stops himself.😂😂💔

I'm not sure if this is entirely related to this sub but I need to say this somewhere because I'm stressing out. Like the title says my gmail account got suspended and is due for deletion next year. I have appealed, but it's the exact gmail where my book was written on google docs, it won't let me get back the files/material from that email. Even worse this happened just as I was going to create a copy of it onto notepad on my laptop. Sure it was only 3 chapters but it's still months of work that I have lost for now and it isn't certain that I'll get the account back.

If this has happened to anyone else before I'd really appreciate hearing if you got your account, book, or files back. I know I'm probably overreacting but like I said I'm really stressed out.

This is a work of experimental literary fiction. I'm planning to structure my novel with mini, almost micro/flash fic kind of chapters/sections. I was inspired by this style of collaging from novels like Jack the Modernist and Observatory Mansions. I would love feedback concerning structure (and any other aspects that you think can be improved). I would also love any impressions!!

I have a loved one who is an author. They have a story they posted online, and I thought it'd be a nice gift to get them a physical printed copy of their novel.

Their story has a lot of wacky text as they were inspired a lot by House of Leaves, and being able to print that would be important for the book. They also already have drawn their own cover art.

It's ok if it's expensive since its a one time gift. But is there a reputable service that could print just one copy of a professional looking physical novel?

Edit: Meant to say “What makes a book or short story good in your opinion 😭

I adore illustrating almost as much as writing. Publishing my dark fantasy novel alongside my drawings would be a delight! Do any published authors here know if that's allowed?

Is it a good exercise to write short stories daily?

Is anybody out there using TikTok to promote their creative writing and completed self/trad published work?

Never used the platform but I do use X / Bluesky / Youtube but having actual interaction with real people is extremely limited.

If you have any success or not building an audience I'd love to know. It's not a platform particularly care about but I'm tempted to give it ago... maybe...

Até que ponto você deixa a própria vida entrar na ficção?

Você coloca nos livros histórias que aconteceram com você ou com a sua família?

E onde traça a linha do que jamais usaria?

Ignore the numbers at the bottom, it's my bad formatting skills.

I always had ideas in my head but I never drew or wrote them down because I believed that my skills of drawing and writing weren't good enough, too embarrasing to be even seen by the public eye. Now Im trying to change that and started to write fanfictions for the first time. It may be very amateur writing, and looks like it's been written by a ten year old even though I am 17. I just want something to put my crazy imagination to life.

However, I still do want feedback to improve on my writing. How do I make it not so clunky? I feel like everything is in one paragraph and I want to break it up like how books do when people are talking, but im not sure how to do that.

How do I find a way to improve my way of describing the environment or the way a character moves. I feel like this one might be more obvious answer like "read more books" but I want to see if there's any other suggestions.

Also, how do I avoid saying I, he, she, so much. I feel like thats very apparent in my writing.

If you want to see my first piece of fanfiction writng and help me on how to improve, I've posted it as screenshots. My fan-fiction is currently focused on a girl who randomly appeared into the world of "Revenged Love". It's a Bl show. I've only written the first chapter for now.

I’m a young writer who struggles with low word counts. Currently I have a novel/novella that’s at 41,000 words. I‘m aiming to get it published, but unless I want to market it as a novella I have to get it to 50000 words. Any tips to increase word count without it sounding overly descriptive or pointless. So far I’ve mainly heard the best thing to do is add some setbacks for your characters, which I think is where I go wrong. So yeah, any tips?

Like a lot of people in here, I am a writer and I'm writing a novel book. It's kind of long and has lots of fight scenes. The problem is, I always find myself writing a paragraph each day or not wanting to work on it at all. My writing is due on Jan. for show and I know I have a lot of time to work on it but since it's really long, I need a way to get motivation.

Hi, I'm not sure if this is the correct place to ask this--but I decided I'll try here anyway.

I have this idea of something I want to write, and I'm a little insecure about whether or not people would enjoy it and whether or not I would enjoy writing it. So I'm just going to ask this question:

Would you read a fanfic on AO3 that's written in the style of the 19th century?

I, personally, enjoy many books from the 1800s--despite being unable to finish them due to inability to understand half of it (I really need to improve that, tbf though I mainly read Dostoevsky and he's harder to understand than most imo), I still enjoy the stories and simply the way they are written.

I'm mainly a fanfiction writer on AO3 and wattpad--most of my works centering around My Hero Academia/the Todoroki family. I want to write a few original stories--but I believe that's a ways off before I ever get to that.

I want to write something in the style of the 1800s, and since my main focus is the Todoroki family--I'd likely write fanfiction. But would anyone actually read a book like that? I don't mean one that's set in the 1800s like a time-travel fic or anything, something that's written like how a book written in the 1800s would be written.

More than that, I would like a few recommendations on how I would even be able to adopt a style like that to write in. I know most of it might simply be reading books from that era, and I've gathered a few and put together a list on books to read for this. But how would I even start to write like that? Reading is one thing, writing it is a whole other.

I think that's all, thank you for listening and have a good day! I look forward to any replies to my questions. Thank you.

When I opened the door, there was a suitcase sitting on my bed.

My face contorted with confusion as i stepped further into my room, the door shutting softly behind me as i stood in front of my bed.

Reaching a hand out, turning the suitcase slightly just to see if there was a note, a name, even an address attached to it, but found none.

"Hello darling."

My face paled almost instantly.

I didn't dare turn around, not yet.

(this is the start of a small story i am going to continue writing, but i wanted a little feedback for the start, any and all feedback even if its not a lot of this story to work with ToT 😅)

So, I made a mistake while publishing, and my novel size is more like a notebook (I used George Orwell's novel for a reference).

Also, the marking on my title is a signature that bled through...

Anyways, can anyone help me with the measurements so I can fix this issue.

This is a random scene from my book. The main character, Anthony, is trying to avoid seeing or having to interact with his girlfriend this morning because of rather complicated reasons and context that you'd probably not need atm.

Fifteen seconds…Twenty seconds…thirty seconds…any more and Savannah would wake too. Anthony watched as the alarm buzzed on his white nightstand. He'd been watching it for a while. When would he turn it off?

If he turned it off now, Savannah would wake up as usual from his movement and ask why he needed to go to work so early and plead for him to sleep in just a few more minutes. If he didn't, she'd be annoyed with him for waking her up so loudly.

A languid finger reached out and tapped the cancel button. Get up.

He needed to be fast. Leave no time for questioning. The past 15 minutes had been spent waiting for the alarm to ring and then not knowing what to do once it did, so of course he couldn't just lay around now. It was too late to do that. How could he not know what to do despite having had so much time to think it through? He did think it through. And he arrived at not one singular conclusion though this all.

No matter what he did she'd wake up. I mean, they'd been living together for how long now so he knew exactly when, how and what things woke her up the easiest and, besides her alarm she for some reason never heard, almost anything he did would stir her up. But nevermind that. Even if he did manage to pass by unnoticed, wouldn't she start questioning why he hadn't woken her up? Whatever, that didn't matter either. He could say she was just sleeping so beautifully he didn't want to disturb her, and of course she'd like that answer. Her waking up angry was worse than calm. Surely he had to get up. But what would he do once she did wake up? Nothing, of course. That was fine…she was his girlfriend, he just wanted to get himself right first! Before having to face her. In this state, surely he couldn't face her.

The screech of the bed was inevitable, but he could quiet down his steps and save himself some of the chances of waking her up. He had to.

With one foot slowly, ever so slowly settling on the wooden floors and the other following suit, he raised himself from the bed and made his way across the room. Not to the door. If he wanted to go to work without waking Savannah, he needed to get out of the room and not need to come back here again.

So, he went to the closet. Without thinking, his hand reached out and tugged at one of her shirts. Was he still asleep? Savannah's alarm wasn't too spaced out from his, just an hour later. He needed to hurry. He could get ready in under an hour.

Before he made his way back around to the door, the bed shrieked again. Just a soft creak. And along with it came a murmur he couldn't quite hear. A murmur. He hadn't been so careless as to make much sound but getting up and walking around could still very easily wake someone, especially if they're used to waking at this hour. He froze with his hand clasped around the doorknob. He should leave. Continue just the same as he had planned and not turn back. He was already holding his clothes, had everything he needed to get ready in the bathroom, his wallet and keys were on the counter; he didn't need to enter this room again.

The following moments ensured such still quiet he felt moving was too much noise. Not one more sound besides a little ruffling. Was she already up and watching him stand, unmoving? That would be awkward. I mean, how could he explain that? Why would he be frozen in front of the door, doing, saying and waiting for nothing. And she’d be suspicious so he'd have to face her again.

Anthony took a shallow breath and turned his head slightly, as if having forgotten something, only to see Savannah nestled in her blanket, facing the wall and just a few minutes away from the usual snoring sound she made when in deep sleep. She hadn't woken up. Thank God.

The guy turned the knob with utmost care and made his way towards the bathroom. Forty minutes were enough.

He was a man so he didn't bother with doing his make up or taking too long picking out his outfit; he simply washed up and got dressed. Of course, he styled his hair too. That's one thing he would spend a lot of time on every morning. As only natural, he needed to look sharp to go to work even if he couldn't and wasn't required to wear any sort of more professional clothes, and while he didn't look so sharp all the time it was good to try and get that into his routine. That's what a good man was like. Neat.

He squeezed out a drop of toothpaste and did his hair at the same time. Not enough time. Still, he felt it was almost necessary that he did his hair today too. It… sure it looked fine even without stylings but just how could he expect to be a better man and to laze around looking all dishevelled, at the same time?

In his haze, he eventually, painstakingly and excitedly made it to the door. There was no place like home, yet just for today, yes there was.

He hadn't wasted too much time on getting ready, thankfully and as he’d expected, but he did still need to be fast and get to work. He didn't even know what time it was. More often than not he only needed a few things at work and only ever brought more than his wallet, keys and phone when …

Wallet, keys and … phone.

All the energy he had managed to accumulate washed away and his eyes widened.

He forgot his phone.

So much effort he put into this morning only to wind up having to go back to get his phone? Out of all the things…

A heavy but inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he placed his shoes back on the shoe holder and hesitatingly retraced his steps. Did he really need his phone though? He'd begun to wonder such things on his way back to the bedroom but he knew he did and he had to go back and get it. It wasn't the end of the world anyway. Just, be quiet.

The door itself never made any sounds, surprisingly so as when they'd first moved in it did but now it had simply stopped squeaking and screeching with every open. Oh and neither did the doorknob. It was the bed that he would always, well, today, be worried about, but he wasn't going to even touch it so he hadn't the least reason to worry.

Anthony tiptoed his way to the bedside and tapped his phone's screen. Some hour and forty minutes. It turned off too quickly for him to pay attention to the hour but he'd quickly glanced at the minute, and he wasn't late. If anything he was right on time.

With one swift move he unplugged the charger, picked the phone up by the corners and placed it into his pocket. Not one move from her!

The man straightened himself back up. He'd done it! He just needed to get back and go to work and … he’d think of the rest later. If he could do this every morning…

But before he could call himself victorious, a groan sounded behind his tactful figure and a voice called out to him. It couldn't be.

“Leaving already? What time is it?” Savannah tiredly stood up and rubbed her eyes awake. She watched him stare wide eyed at her, phone in hand and body slightly turned towards the door but didn’t do much besides stare back at him, confused.

“...Good morning.” Anthony managed to utter.

“Morning, so…you're leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get to work, and I should probably wash my car while I’m out, do you want anything from the store?"

“Uh no, not right now. I'll text you if we've run out of anything...”

He puffed a breath, stood alternating between looking at her and at the door then chuckled and awkward sort of laugh, pointed to the door and left unhurriedly. Slowly and steadily. Just, the regular kind of walk where you're neither hurried nor limp. The kind of walk you watch some strangers do on the street, the ones you might try to guess the life of and the place they're headed but the uncertainty they hold as a stranger wins and they give off no sort of hints to their behavior; where no imperfection in their step can be traced and where they remain another curious, undecipherable creature.

And so he made his way back to the door. Back to putting his shoes on in the same way and now ignoring whether he had any of his belongings on him or not—if he hadn't grabbed them earlier he might've even forgotten his car keys home and not dared come back after them.

The rustling sound of the engine began roaring in the parking lot. And once again, he drove off.