writingbox:

Sometimes you want to write, but you have no plot ideas. Perhaps your fingers are itchy to write, you want to meet a submissions deadline, a character is bugging you to tell their story, or a single image, phrase, or scene is sitting heavy in your head. But you still can’t find the whole story.

So what can you do?

• Start with characters: find their names, their backstories, their relationships. Create detailed descriptions, draw them, build their family trees. Get them interracting, put them into a room together, or bump them into each other in the street. Read their diaries, their love letters, their bank statements. Get to know them inside out. This is one place where you may find your story.
• Start with a world: create your map, name the towns, lakes, forests, and mountains. Work out the trade routes, position the markets, the ports, and the industry. Find the history, predict the future. Draw out the borders, bring war, re-draw the borders. Get down to street level and see who lives there. Walk the streets yourself. This is one place where you may find your story.
• Start with a room: stand in the middle of a room and open your eyes. What does the room look like? What’s in it? How many doors and windows are there? What is the room used for? Who uses it? What has happened here, and what is going to happen here? This is one place where you may find your story.
• Start with an object: pick something up into your hand. What is it? What is it used for? Who owns it, and who owned it before them? What is it worth, either monetarily or sentimentally? Has it been lost, found, stolen, given away? Why is this object important? This is one place where you may find your story.

therevenantwrites:

A short list of several types of poison and their effects.

(Source: ink-moth)

theyuniversity:

(Source: theyuniversity)

I told a boy in London that he had eyes
that could drown a girl, and I don’t know why he
kissed me a moment afterwards.

How easy it is, I thought with his hands on my waist,
to turn someone on
with such a blatant desire to drown.

And I stood there in the rain with a beautiful boy who knew exactly
where to put his hands, and I couldn’t stop thinking
of how I had never felt less beautiful.

So I closed my eyes and was there again,
to that night where we sat side by side with our naked bodies
in the lake, with the land and water like a rorschach ink blot;

the stars, the stars like fish in the sky
that swam when we dipped our toes in
and made ripples, laughing, with our limbs
like swan wings,

with my heart caught in my throat
in the shape of your laugh.

(Source: commovente)

(Source: alonesomes)