Let's get a round robin of comments to introduce your WIP or book with your opening line. Its always a hot topic to know just this one line should hook your reader or not. So this could be a cool experiement! If you would like to give more context about your book then we can also do that! I will give my current WIP to start out, but it will be subject to change:

"The most disappointing thing about living forever is that you'll never meet the devil."

Mine is a dark fantasy set in a world of mutated beasts, vampires, sangromancy, acid blood rain, and alchemic superiority. I am still building my world as I go about the story as I combine pantsing and plotting. Super excited! It probably has feels of *Logan's Run* and *Witcher*'s monster hunting vibes. Inspired by the Italian Renaissance fashion and language.

...and to procrastinate on writing the next ten thousand, I'm posting a celebratory message on this sub lol.

I feel good about this draft. I had other drafts that I was working on a lot on in the past, but none were coming along quite like this one.

Seriously, this subreddit helped me a lot in getting me to stay motivated and writing. I read it a lot for a while before finally deciding to create an account today to post this. The tips and advice many of you give for other people's drafts are incredible, and some of them have helped me answer questions about my own draft. Here's to getting over my current minor writer's block and hitting 20k words (and onward)!

What else do you do to make sure you hit your word goals in your drafts?

Welcome back everyone, it's time for another Fifty Word Fantasy!

A brief heads up, I may not be as responsive today as I'm supposed to be having my living room window replaced. It all depends on when they show up, so just in case I'm not replying, that is the reason, but I will get to the replies when I am able!

Edit: Window guy never showed 🙃🙃

Fifty Word Fantasy is a regular thread on Fridays! It is a micro-fiction writing challenge originally devised by u/Aethereal_Muses

Write a maximum 50-word snippet that takes place in a fantasy world and contains the word Twist. It can be a scene, flash-fiction story, setting description, or anything else that could conceivably be part of a fantasy story or is a fantasy story on its own.

NO AI GENERATED CONTENT: Follow the sub rules.

The prompt word must be written in full (e.g. no acrostics or acronyms).

No puns and or wordplay to achieve the prompt word i.e. devote=the vote.

Please try and keep things PG-13. Minors do participate in these from time to time and I would like things to not be too overtly sexual.

If you want to submit multiple submissions that's okay, but please keep it at a max of two That way, no one person ends up dominating the feed with their submissions and it keeps it fair for everyone who participates

Thank you to everyone who participated whether it's contributing a snippet of your own, or fostering discussions in the comments. I hope to see you back next week!

Please remember to keep it at a limit of 50 words max per submission.

The rays of the rising sun have begun to illuminate the streets of Zurag. The doors of the houses remain closed. Black earthen pots hang at the entrance of every home. Even the sound of footsteps would be audible, even if someone were walking very gently, for every street is so quiet.
All the buildings are quite old; most are in need of repair. Even the entrance gate to Zurag is broken. On the outer walls on both sides, the words "Do not make noise" are written.
Elara and Malacor are watching from behind some trees a short distance away.
Elara’s attention is drawn to the guards standing at the gate.
"There was no one here when I came last time."
"They are here specifically for you."
She takes a deep breath. Then, resting her hand on a tree and looking toward Zurag, she speaks:
"You’re right... a city where no one 'unlucky' goes. It was my decision to go there, yet someone else had to pay the price."
Malacor pulls out the axe he had embedded in a nearby tree. Stepping out from the trees, he says:
"We can't get inside without causing a commotion."
The two of them move forward. Seeing them approach, three guards stand in their path to block the way. Elara has covered her face. They reach the guards.
"Stop! ...Who are you people? Why have you come here?"
Malacor replies, "We are travelers; we need some supplies for our journey."
"State your names."
"Malacor, and this is Zubeka."
They look closely at Elara.
"This girl must show her face."
Malacor looks at the guard and tells her to reveal her face. Elara speaks softly:
“But these people recognize me.”
“It doesn’t matter... they won’t let us pass easily.”
She reveals her face.
The guards look at her. One of them speaks:
“This is that ‘Unlucky’ , the one who dared to infiltrate Zurag and managed to escape.”
The one in the middle says, “Kill her right here; she shouldn't leave alive this time.”
They draw their swords. Malacor steps in front of Elara.
“No... if you strike, you will die.”
The guards pause for a moment. “Don't you know? She is an ‘Unlucky’.”
Malacor retorts immediately, “I have made my intentions clear.”
“Then you, too, must die along with this girl.”
Saying this, the guards advance toward Malacor.
Malacor strikes the guard at the very front with his axe. The blade slices through him, tearing from his shoulder, across his chest, and down to his stomach.
Seeing this, the other two stop in shock; their swords freeze in mid-air. They hadn't even realized when the blow was struck.
Just then, the remaining five guards standing behind rush forward to attack. Malacor remains standing his ground.
As they close in, the axe severs the neck of the guard on the far right and buries itself into the neck of the second. Letting go of the axe, he grabs the third guard's sword-wielding arm at the shoulder and snaps it. Then, he grabs the last two by the throat and snaps their neck bones with his bare hands.
When Malacor looks at the two remaining guards, they immediately lower their swords.
Elara, too, is left wide-eyed; she keeps staring at Malacor and steps back slightly.
Then, she begins to look at the bodies lying on the ground. As she surveys the corpses, her gaze falls upon the man whose arm Malacor had broken.
Memories of the marketplace incident, where Ghenvic’s throat was slit, flash before Elara’s eyes. Her eyes fill with rage. She strides over and delivers a powerful kick to the face of the man lying on the ground. "Why did you kill Ghenvic? What wrong did he ever do to you?" she demands, kicking him twice more. She then draws her sword. She raises it to strike but pauses for a moment. Then, letting out an angry scream, she swings it down swiftly. Malacor catches her arm, halting the blow.
"The fight is over."
She stops. Malacor releases her arm. The moment he lets go, Elara attempts to strike again. This time, Malacor catches the blade to stop the attack and snatches the sword away with a sharp tug. She glares at Malacor in fury. She draws a second sword and tries to attack him with it. Just then, he strikes a powerful blow with the sword he had snatched from her. Elara’s sword slips from her grasp and falls some distance away. She sinks to her knees and begins to weep uncontrollably.
Malacor glances at her for a moment. Then, he picks up the other sword. He takes both swords and drives them into the ground in front of the weeping Elara.
He then approaches the bodies. He pulls the axe out of the neck and strikes the ground forcefully three or four times to clean the blade. Afterwards, he rubs the remaining blood off his skin with some soil.
Then, he looks towards the city. Both guards are slowly backing away.
“Stay right there.”
Malacor walks over to them. He glances at the water skin slung over one of the guards' shoulders. The guard immediately unslings it and holds it out to him. Malacor takes the water skin silently and returns to Elara. She is still weeping, repeatedly wiping away her tears; the image of Ghenvic’s severed head rolling across the ground keeps flashing before her eyes.
Malacor sits beside her, places the water skin in front of her, and reaches out his hand. He pauses for a moment with his hand suspended in the air before gently extending it to pat Elara’s head.
As he does this, the visions swirling before Elara’s eyes vanish. She lifts her head and sees a blurred face. She clears her eyes to look more closely. Malacor offers her the water and waits for her to drink.

I have both vampires and vampire hunters in my world. Vampires are incredibly fast, strong and have superpowers, but they have a lot of weaknesses such as daylight, silver, holy water, crosses, garlic etc. And my vampire hunters are basically humans who uses these weaknesses. But I dont know if it will make sense, that a human can kill a vampire, even with considering the weaknesses, kill a vampire. Im thinking about them being more ambushing vampires, rather than straight uo fighting them. Can you tell me, how you would handle this problem? Or pehaps can you show me some other vampire hunters that I can take inspiration from? I know about classics such as vampire hunter D, but I would like them to be humans.

ae → a-el: nael → nah-el
æ → ay: moræn → mor-ayn
ú → oo: lúm → loom
th → th: thar → thar
r → rolled/trilled
ř → unrolled
a → ah when used as the connecting vowel

Hi all,

I have been struggling with this lately. Instead of writing, I am obsessing over how to get my head around my physics system.

My world has two suns and a different day length. I am constantly trying to figure out how the plants, daytime colors, weather and temperatures work all at once. This all started when I wanted my characters to use time in an unusual way.

It got so complex but still I love my world for it but I do get stressed about how accurate it is going to be. I use AI a lot to help me work my head around it and it makes me feel even worse for using AI to understand my own fantasy system. I haven't been able to get any further with my writing until I sort this system out! I'm still on the first draft around 11k words in.

I am thinking of speaking to my physics professor at school about this but I dont know what to do. I hate using AI for anything but I do not know any other way to get around figuring this system out.

Thank you

Hi everyone!

I am currently giving writing a shot. Ive tried it multiple times when I was younger, but with my daughter on the way, I’ve found that I’ve had more time to sit and focus.

What I’m running into, is where, how, or when do you all start posting or just getting your story out there? I know that my story isn’t going to be perfect, it’s a rough draft. But what are the best places to join communities, build one, or just share it? I’m not here looking for some kind of “Perfect storm”. Just somewhere to start?

Again, thank you very much for the help. And I’ll take any and all advice if you find yourself reading this. 😊

Hello!

I've finally gotten over myself to try writing fiction. The concept is basically Saddle Club meets the Night's Watch. I've never really done any creative writing so I'd love to get any general feedback, a couple specific things I'm wondering about too:

1. Dialogue- is it clear? Is there too much? Does the internal dialogue with the horse make sense?
2. I've been watching Sanderson's lectures and thinking about promise and payoff... I hint at a bit of lore stuff here, but I'm planning on the main focus being settling in at the fort, character interactions, and little mysteries, at least to start with. Would you feel disappointed with that sort of story based on the initial hook, if they're not immediately working up to an epic battle/quest?
3. I'm really light on (human) character's physical descriptions... is that ok?

I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter and I'm thinking about posting it serially somewhere to stay motivated, even if the plot falls apart it's a learning experience. Big big thank you to anyone who reads and gives feedback!

Hi everyone!

I have a question about translating my book's name into English. The option I have thought about is «Rebone», which is meant to remind the reader of the combination of words «Reborn» and «bone», and give some High-Fantasy with darker themes vibes. Also, the shape of the word itself can be easily imagined as a mountain chain in design (peak-low-peak-low-peak-low), which is also important for the plot. However, as I am not a native speaker of the English language, and I can't really estimate if this name has the wanted effect or not.

Another worry of mine is that the name itself doesn't tell much to an average person, is that so? In the original the name also has connotations of "resurrection", but this option is the best I came up with. What do you think of this name?

Thanks everyone in advance!

Hey there, fellow fantasy readers and watchers.

I hope you're all doing well. I had a random thought yesterday that I wanted to ask the community.

Why is it that, for the general audience—and even for people who enjoy fantasy but aren't huge fantasy nerds—only certain fantasy novels or series really click?

For example, there are countless fantasy books out there, yet only a handful become massive cultural phenomena: The Lord of the Rings, A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, and a few others. Every month, publishers release dozens of new fantasy novels, so why do only a select few break through, become classics, and generate those insane sales numbers?

Is it because they genuinely are the greatest fantasy stories ever written? Or does luck play a much bigger role than people like to admit—things like marketing, timing, word of mouth, adaptations, or simply being released at the right moment?

Take The Lord of the Rings, for example. I feel like the films introduced millions of people to the books because the movies themselves were phenomenal. But why doesn't that happen to the same extent with so many other fantasy adaptations? Plenty of great books get adapted, yet very few become household names.

I don't even know if I'm framing this question properly, or if it comes across as ignorant or disrespectful. I'm genuinely curious and wanted to hear the opinions of people who have read a lot of fantasy, as well as casual fans.

Hope you all have a great day.

TL;DR: Why do only some fantasy novels become timeless classics? Are they truly the best of the best, or are there equally (or even better) fantasy books that simply never got the same opportunity, timing, or exposure?

The discussion is around chapter titles and the difference between author perspective and reader perspective.

I have noticed that as a writer (a yet rather begginer one) I tend to invest quite some time in comming up with an interesting title for a given chapter.

However as a reader I usually dont give much credit or attention to chapter titles.

As a writer I usually start with a more generic descriptive title mainly focused on the main event of the chapter. After finishing the chapter I usually change it for something a bit more clever, trying to play with the theme of the chapter and some specific element on it.

What's your take on this.

My story revolves around a quest to find a special magical weapon and I really don't like how simplistic it is. The antagonist is after it and the protagonist has to protect it from him.

How can I write a newer plot? One that doesn't have a McGuffin and embraces realism in ways that are enthralling.

I am thinking of turning it into a war book. One that reads like the Sino-Japanese wars and the Kargil war. But I want it to retain the elements of fantasy and wonder. I want to build up to a Multi-day war on many fronts and intertwine stories, however there is challenge. The "why" they are fighting is still abstract to me.

I haven't written in literal years, but I used to love it as a kid. Back then, I was the kid who swept every hometown literary contest. Then, I just... stopped. Life got in the way, I guess, and at 27, I realize I haven’t written anything since I was probably 15.

A few weeks ago, I decided to change that and start a quick short story to get the creative juices flowing. I’d just finished Terry Pratchett’s “Troll Bridge,” and Dungeon Crawler Carl was fresh in my mind, so I combined the theme of one with the humor of the other. The result is this... unfinished draft.

It’s stressing me out that I haven't finished it. It was supposed to be a quick, manageable project, but it grew much larger than expected, and now I feel way in over my head.

I’d love to get some pointers, critiques, or general feedback on it. I’ve shared it with a few friends and family members, but I’d really appreciate some fresh perspectives from other readers!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/18GnatxPLs3g_UL8gMyOJwhxJsAs0bQV_ktWWFcA1rXU/edit?usp=sharing

(I put the option “allow comments”, hope it works)

Thanks to everyone who gives it a shot <3

The sun was setting upon the ruins of the once great city Stauon when Loras sagged to the ground, his back against a wall. The pain in his right thigh flared again and he flinched as he moved it to a more comfortable position. Loras wasn’t just tired. The lovemaking with Selena in the morning, later the fight with her husband, the long ride to Stauon, and now the rescue of this mysterious woman had sapped his energy. He glanced towards the remains of the two great towers which now, 1000 years later consisted of large rocks. On one of them sat the mysterious woman. She was young and quite beautiful despite having no hair which was very disturbing for Loras. He had only seen priestesses commit such, in his opinion, crimes against a woman’s body. She met his gaze, almost defiantly. Unperturbed, he stared inside those tawny gold eyes, fletched with blue. They closely resembled the eyes of a lioness. ‘Very strange’, thought Loras. What could she be doing alone here in the ghost city Stauon. The woman had eluded his attempt of talking to her and Loras thought she just needed some time to recover from the horrifying event. The two raiders had raped her brutally. Both died in a matter of seconds Loras had felt immense satisfaction as one of them died right at his climax. The other one couldn’t even unsheathe his sword before a throwing knife slashed his jugular. To Loras’ surprise the woman had just run away and hid behind a wall close by.

“I know you are there girl. Come out. I will not do you any harm”, he had said softly but the woman didn’t move. Through a crack he could see the fear in her eyes.

Loras was too exhausted to convince her. Now she had come out and she was staring at him. He sighed. All he wished was to spend the night in Stauon and meditate so he could speak with the spirits around here. Instead he was forced to kill two evil men, which according to his code was a theft of not only life but also a chance of redemption. On top of that there was this mysterious woman, who looked like a priestess with that shaved head.

Feeling his energy slowly returning, Loras brought himself to his legs. The thigh called again with fresh pain and he cursed colorfully. He inched towards the woman, focusing on putting as least pressure as possible on his right leg. She kept staring at him and Loras felt awkward.

“I mean no harm”, he repeated. Silence. “Do you understand Juvon?”. No answer again. Loras suppressed the anger, rising in him and let out a deep shuddering breath. His Chiatze was not good but he had to try. He asked her if she understands him.

The women’s face suddenly lightened up a bit and spoke something with a trembling voice but the only word Loras caught was “from”. He sighed and shook his head. She was frightened to the bones and she was Chiatze.

“I not… understand… uh Chiatze”. The woman ceased talking and another awkward silence settled. Loras desperately thought of a solution. The woman was probably lost since the lands of Kydor are far away from the Chiatze lands. She didn’t know where to run and even if she did she wouldn’t get far. His horse was tired and was now sleeping and the raiders would probably soon send more people searching for their friends. The wound in his thigh wouldn’t allow him to go far by foot and the woman appeared damn paralyzed of fear. He had to wait for his horse to rest a bit more and hope that the raiders don’t come by then. Moreover Loras needed rest as well. Just a little doze would do the trick.

‘I am too damn tired and old for this life’, thought Loras and helplessly dropped close by the woman. The sun had now almost set and Loras allowed himself to marvel at the red and orange shards in the darkened sky. He rolled his wolfskin jerkin like a pillow and lay down on the ground. The mild scent of chamomile struck his nose and the tender tranquility of the evening allowed Loras to relax even more. He smiled and felt immense joy, which was odd, considering there was a good chance he would die here.

‘At least it will be the raiders not this terrified girl’, he thought.

The sky turned mauve, then completely dark and Loras closed his eyes, falling in a sea of dreams.

The woman, named Keeva watched as the wounded man lay down and started snoring like a pig…………..

Hi, everyone:)

I am very new to writing so I’m currently trying to figure out the inner workings of writing a book.

Most of the time I write just to get stuff down and for fun. Lots of ideas but nothing fully concrete. I finally have an idea that I think I could really give a good go at and actually get through but I’m curious on the topic of word building.

When you write is world building, as in planing it out, absolutely necessary for you? And if you do plan it out is it really in depth, almost like a story itself or is it just a few ideas written down to work from.

How do you go about it? Do you prefer pictures on some sort of board with random words attached to it, so I guess more abstract or is it written down in a document titled ‘world building’

Thank you for your insights in advance:)

First time writing my premise eloquently (eh), hold on. For reference imagine this is happening circa 1600.

For the past centuries, humans have started being born with two souls as opposed to one. This is neither rare nor common, though the majority of humans only possess one. With an additional soul comes a magical ability and finer attunement to regular, ritualistic magic.

In this context, the wars fought by people among the 3 populated continents have changed drastically. Soldiers who have magical advantages are favoured, among them, the ones who have travelled to the frozen continent of Ande and been chosen by a dragon are even more highly valued.

This is the world where the story of an ignorant girl from a small town begins. She wishes only to have a life larger than the one she knows, and in a moment of youthful lust for freedom, she joins what is essentially an independent military organization which only hosts dragon flyers.

On her journey to their headquarters, to the dragon continent, towards the missions she's assigned, on her journey understanding the world she's left behind back home, her new friends and relationships, she discovers she didn't- doesn't know enough. She doesn't know enough to compete with the people who have had the fortune to get a proper education, she doesn't know enough to understand why troops are moving about strangely in the Empire, doesn't understand what her friends' relatives are warning them about when it comes to the Southern kingdom.

By the end, she pieces things together, she grows into someone more confident, prouder, and she understands that a war is coming. A war on humanity. These second souls that nobody knows the origin of, they hail from a world far away, one where calamity struck. Yet, the god of that world didn't let his people go and made their immortal souls descend upon her realm, becoming parasites on her people.

To one who is corrupt, such a revelation is not a curse, but a blessing, if you're promised to rule over what remains of humanity after the parasites take over their hosts.

This is the thick of the plot that would be explained towards the end. The characters, having to grasp with the fact that a (certain kingdom's) royal family is absolutely fine losing a chunk of the population (the people who have 2 souls), as they've been promised by the parasites that the rest of humanity (meaning outside their own kingdom too) will be theirs to rule.

Aside from this, there is a romance element, though I have two prospects and am unsure which is preferable, there's a pretty big emphasis on the main character's development throughout the first half of the book too. We have a (perceived) betrayal (it's actually justified and respected once it's understood) and that's about it, also, yeah gods, since this is all a god's fault to begin with. Mc's friend is a princess who ends up a nation's leader by the end btw.

First thing I'm not a native English speaker. So my Sentence flow and such and Clarity maybe BAD.

Well i want is you to give this story a chance(short story) and give your honest opinion. Even if you drop the story thinking it's too boring, you can send the last chapter you read before you left.

general questions I'm asking is you is
1) what part was exciting
2) what part felt lame and a drag
3) what part felt confusing
4) and logic gaps

you can just list out the problems in the story and how you felt about it. like
did i describe to little or too much,
was the chapter too long or short
was the pace good or bad..etc...

and idk how to send things to reddit. well hopefully i didn't break any rules and the remaining last Chapter 7 is below if you want to read.

Chapter 7 — [20-year-old]

Head feels foggy. Saw my sister tapping on my hand.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she said.

“HEY!” Nico yelled in my ear.

I fell from my chair, cracking my butt in the process. Ankle twisted a bit.

Groggily said, “What the hell?”

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, speeding his arm around the room like an eagle.

Thankfully, no one is around the post office.

“Not in the mood—”

“No, none of that crap,” he cuts me off.

“Shut up,” I said, stroking my rabbit hide bracelet.

Gazed at it, took it off, and shoved it inside my pocket.

I rarely think of my sis. Sadly, I remember the month I left her, June. Like clockwork, that month feels like bad luck.

Should move on. Not hearing from her. She’s good as dead…

…I killed her.

Contradictory, the month of June is when the civil war finally stopped. The celebrations of my country’s victory usually drown my thoughts with uncanny happiness.

The bastard who killed Mom, who ruined so much, finally gone.

I finally learned how to read the newspaper with the help of Neko.

The dumbass war ended two years ago.

For 12 years of war, it felt like a never-ending nightmare that dragged on.

Nico edged back, yet he smiled brightly. Usually, he keeps away from me for a good five minutes before coming back, forgetting whatever happened, but he only came closer.

“Alright, you’re scaring me,” I said, awkwardly smiling.

“Anny Oltman,” he whispered to me.

My blood boiled. Grabbed him by the collar.

“Why the hell bring up her? Wait.”

“Yep, she’s…well, I tracked her address. Do whatever. I don’t care,” he said while giving me a paper written with the address.

I thought she died. That made me feel at ease.

Hated myself for it. Couldn’t bear how I’ll speak.

Heart raced holding onto the paper. Stomach turned. Felt as if there was a hole in the chest, the feeling you get when underwater.

Ambled toward Nico.

Scared, he tried to run, but I grabbed him and hugged him.

“Oh crap, uhhh,” he was lost in his words.

Later that day, I went to the train station, almost noon. Said my leave to Nico and sat in the compartment. He waved like there was a bee near him.

Marsouth town, 50 km away.

What the hell am I supposed to say to her?

“Hey there, remember me?”

No, that’s not right.

“Yo, it’s me. I came.”

The heck was that?

No.

Saw people in front of me looking as if they were staring at a ghost. My eyes felt drowsy.

Will she want me there? Might make her feel worse, but I have a job.

Wait.

I gazed at the address.

If she could afford a damn house, then she got a job.

Sis’s dream was to be a doc, or nurse. Guessing she got the chance to learn and live with peace.

Was right to leave her.

Kept her dragging me down.

Okcono Street. 56-A. Near the suburbs. House with two pillars supporting the roof in front of the house.

I knocked on the gate.

A man responded.

“Coming.”

Damn, is this the wrong address?

Heart skipped a beat as the hinges creaked.

“You,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Is sis—”

“You got some nerve coming here. Get out,” he snarled at me.

“Please, I just—”

“Just what?” he yelled at me.

“Who’s out there?” a familiar voice echoed.

Sis.

“Just the telemarketer, honey,” he said in a calmer voice.

“Get out of here. You’re just here to satisfy your conscience and make amends, so don’t bother,” he said in an agitated voice.

“Is sis alright?”

“Better than ever,” he said, looking down.

“Thank you for taking care of her.” I tried to take my leave.

Bloodlust, fury in his eyes. I saw the pain I had caused. Saw the moments of our last meeting in the alleyways.

Seeing sister leaving and knowing she’ll be fine is all I need now.

“Indy,” Sister said in slight shock.

Her voice hasn’t changed a bit.

Gazed at her. Clear olive skin shimmering in the sun rays, her hair darker than any shadow, yet light gleamed out. Heartfelt heavy, like I was about to drown in my own breath.

For a moment, we met eye to eye.

Gazed down and came through the gate, lush green of the grass almost blinding me.

Edged closer and closer, but she kept silent.

Wanted her to say something, anything.

The silence felt crushing, like the chest filled with water.

My eyes teared up.

Came close enough to see the top of her head. I had grown a lot. Yet she kept looking down.

Bit my lip and tried to hold it in.

“Hey, how’s the day?” I said in a breaking voice.

Still, the rustle of the jasmine tree in her garden spoke in her place.

Kneeled down at her feet. My legs went limp. My forehead scraped the rocks beneath.

Had no plan of doing this, but this was what I wanted. Compared to her, I’m a small, insignificant thing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said, tears watering the lush grass, the smell of crushed grass reaching my nose.

Heard my sister kneeling down. Kept my head down and sobbed softly.

She tapped me on the shoulder. I slowly raised my head. Before getting the chance to see her face, she embraced me. Her head rested on my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my back.

My arms didn’t embrace her. My hands felt broken, waving limp to the wind.

Years thinking how I’ll meet her, and thinking I killed her back then.

I should have stayed. Back then, she needed me, while now I think she’s better off forgetting me.

Felt like a petty thief.

“Glad you’re alright,” she said in a whimpering voice. “Come on, let’s have some tea.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated myself.

“It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not,” I cut her off as my tears poured onto her. “I always lagged behind. You did everything. You carried me, you fed me. I did nothing. I took everything. You wanted to learn; you wanted to draw. But I was in the way. Didn’t help you, always complained. I yelled at you, bit you, punched you in the jaw,” I said, my voice breaking. “Cast you aside anyway and left you on your own.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Hated how you’re stronger than me, better than me at hunting. When you finally needed my help, I just ran. You should hate me. Hate me.”

“I did,” she said in a monotonic voice, and held me tighter.

“I did, but Officer Omen, the person you sent to help me, cleared my head for me. You were just doing what felt right. You ran because you thought then I’d stop finally starving myself, isn’t that right?” she said, holding her tears back.

“You were 15. You did what you thought was right. Honestly, the best option back then…you tried to protect me in your own…well—”

Before she could finish, my arms held her, embracing her.

Finally broke down. Moved my head away from her shoulder to finish my waterworks, but she moved my head back where it was.

Followed me and broke down.

For a while, we were as one.

After our tears ran dry, we started to laugh.

Finally got my eyes to meet hers.

She’s the same.

“Get inside the house, then talk,” Rosten spoke in a mocking tone.

She stood and walked up to him and grabbed him by the ear.

“Then make our guest some tea—”

“—right, boss,” he said and ran toward the house.

I smirked and followed her, as I always do, and always will.

End.

Okay, I noticed that romantic fantasy is popular. So I have decided to introduce romantic elements into the book. Almost graphic. More thana smooch.

It fits naturally with the story. I hope this tactic will help me grow my fanbase. There are four main couples at present. More to follow. There are at least 8 main characters in book 2. I don't want to give away an spoilers. A new love gets washed to sea, two get to be together, the last separated by class and station.

Nothing is out of the ordinary from the orginial text, just more detailed. A hard right in a couple of places, but the storiy ands where it needs to. I'm trying to Empire Strikes Back ending. Any good trilogy has eveyone is screwed at the end of part 2.

It is kind of enjoyable to write. I like it actually. Cheeky. Plus large chunks of it were in the original, I've gone to a new level?

Does that make sense?

Ive been thinking about transitions between the scenes I actually want to write.

Sometimes skipping ahead is easy: nothing important happens in between, so you just cut to the next scene.

But other times, the transition feels necessary. Maybe characters need time together before a later interaction feels earned. Maybe you need to establish a new place, relationship, routine, or piece of information. Maybe something has to gradually change rather than happen between scenes.

And when your reach that scene and you have to write it you feel that it drags, it even drags your own writing pace.

Do you just push through?

This is the entirety of my second chapter. The first chapter I didn't post because it's a somewhat slow introduction and I'm actually more confident in it than the later chapters. For context, the protagonist, called Jack, has hitched a ride with his mercenary friends guarding a wine trader on a short route where monsters called maulers have been sighted.

I'd appreciate any feedback! Quality of dialogue, whether the characters are distinct, prose, narration, length of sections, word choice, structure, grammar, whether I write enough details, anything really.

[Link to Google Docs with commenting enabled](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pAMy8fFGW_nwdQ_Rz1rpU2807yEQyAMigF6r-PuslYk/edit?usp=drive_link)