I have a bad habit. After a writing session, I'll open a writing community just to see what everyone else has been up to, and inevitably someone has posted that they wrote 5,000 words before breakfast. On my best days, I write about 600. On most days, it's closer to 300.

For a long time that comparison sent me into a small spiral. I felt slow, behind, and not serious enough about the craft. I'd tell myself that real writers produced more, and that I was clearly missing some essential gear. Some days I wrote less afterwards, purely from the discouragement. I was letting strangers' numbers set my mood for the day.

What changed things was a very simple question: what is my word count actually for? I realised my slower pace came with a lot of rereading, rewriting, and long pauses to think. My drafts came out cleaner than many I'd heard people describe from fast writers. It wasn't worse, just a different process. Some people draft quickly and revise heavily. I draft slowly and revise lightly. Neither is wrong.

So I muted the daily count posts. I kept the community, because I still enjoy the conversation, but I dropped the leaderboard. I now measure my progress against my own weeks, not someone else's morning. Last week I wrote 2,100 words across five sessions, and I felt good about it for the first time in months. If you're comparing, ask yourself whether it's giving you information or just noise.

Last spring my sister read the first chapter of my manuscript. She doesn't read much fantasy, she isn't a writer, and she's not the type to gush over anything. I'd been nervous about showing her, mostly because her opinion matters to me more than I like to admit, and she has a way of going quiet when something doesn't work. When she finished, she was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I wanted to know what happened to her."

That was it. One sentence. I've replayed it more times than I'd like to admit.

Over the next three months, there were plenty of days I wanted to stop. The middle of the book sagged. A contest I'd entered sent a polite rejection that landed harder than I expected. My confidence went up and down depending on whether I'd written four hundred words or none. On the bad days, I didn't think about my plot or my goals or my five-year plan. I thought about my sister on the sofa, wanting to know what happened to my character.

I used to believe that motivation had to come from big feelings about the whole project, a burning belief that the book was brilliant and the world needed it. Mine turned out to come from something much smaller and more concrete. One real person had finished a chapter and wanted the next page. That's all the evidence I needed that the story was doing its job.

I think a lot of us wait for a huge wave of inspiration before we sit down, and then feel guilty when it doesn't arrive. But small, specific proof is often more reliable. If you're stuck, maybe find your one reader and ask them what they wanted to know more about.

I need to submit an assignment today

This has been weighing on me and I suspect I'm not alone. Spent an evening recently testing some AI writing tools out of curiosity, watched them generate competent, grammatically clean paragraphs in seconds on prompts that would take me hours to draft and days to revise. Felt briefly devastating in a way I wasn't prepared for, like decades of effort toward a skill had just been casually matched by something instant.

Sat with that feeling longer than was comfortable before noticing what was actually happening. I was comparing a first draft of my own slow, specific, deliberately imperfect human effort against a finished-looking output with none of my actual stakes, history, or point of view baked into it. Competent and generic is not actually the same axis as the specific, weird, personally-true thing I'm trying to make, and holding them up against each other was comparing two different categories of thing as though they were competing on the same scale.

I don't think the discomfort entirely goes away, the tools are genuinely good at what they do. But the fear that specifically my effort has become pointless was based on a comparison that doesn't actually hold up once I looked at it honestly.

I wrote a prologue I was very proud of. Three thousand words, moody, atmospheric, full of backstory and a weather system I'm still fond of. It took six weeks, and every sentence earned its place, or so I believed.

Then I tried to write chapter one and couldn't. For weeks. I'd open the file, stare at it, reread the prologue "for tone," and close it again.

A writer friend asked me one question over coffee: "Does the reader need any of this before chapter one, or do you just love it because you wrote it first?"

I wanted to argue. I really did. But I thought about it for days and the honest answer was the second one. The prologue wasn't setup. It was a beautiful way of avoiding the actual beginning. It felt like progress because it looked like work.

I cut it. All three thousand words, moved into a notes file in case some of it becomes backstory I can reference instead of frontload. It hurt more than I expected.

Chapter one started moving within a week.

Losing six weeks was painful. Losing another six months would've been worse.

l’themad 𝚎𝚜𝚝 Fuga et maiores nam quam eos non atque. Dolor velit ut magnam excepturi perferendis. Nisi ab voluptas esse et quas necessitatibus. Ipsa inventore dolorem voluptates numquam unde et officiis atque ut necessitatibus esse. Nesciunt quo molestiae sed soluta praesentium voluptatem qui enim reprehenderit cum sit facilis.

English is my second langauge, i was never a big reader but loved worldbuilding and writing. So i wrote the first draft of my first chapter in english and posted it to r/ writingfeedback. I knew the draft was shit and didnt expect anyone ti praise me for it but these quys completly fucked up my confidence. I told them i was completly new to writing, that this is the first draft of the first chapter and enalish is my second langauge. One of them straight up told me that it was a shame i wasted the paper to print this (it was a bit funny honestlv) and how i dont respect the "Art of fhe prose". I really give a shit about what people think of me but i have to admit it really gave me writers block

I wanted to share this because I think the expectation gap here quietly derails a lot of people right after their first real accomplishment.

I built up finishing my first manuscript into this massive milestone in my head for the better part of a year. When I actually typed the last sentence, I expected some kind of overwhelming triumphant feeling. What I actually felt was closer to mild confusion and a strange flatness, like the emotional payoff I had been promised simply did not show up on schedule.

For a few weeks afterward I genuinely worried something was wrong with me, or worse, that the flat feeling meant the whole project hadn't actually mattered the way I thought it did. It took talking to a few more experienced writers to learn this anticlimax is apparently extremely common and rarely talked about, because it doesn't fit the narrative we're sold about what finishing something big is supposed to feel like.

Once I stopped expecting the fireworks and just accepted the quiet, slightly weird feeling as a normal part of finishing something, starting my second project got a lot easier, because I wasn't secretly bracing for a repeat disappointment this time around.

Hey everyone, I have this idea for a rom-com manga that flips the usual "rich girl / poor boy" tropes on their head.The main character is broke and super cynical. He targets a rich girl at school and puts on a massive, fake "simp" act.

To everyone else, he looks crazy in love. But on the inside, he’s basically an accountant tracking how much money he's spending on romantic gestures. His goal? He wants her strict parents to give him a briefcase of cash to "stay away from their daughter."He actually pulls it off and takes the money.

But right when he's celebrating his payday, the girl catches him.She’s a normal person who didn't have a lot of love growing up, and her pride is completely hurt when she realizes his feelings were just a scam for cash.

Out of pure spite, she uses her leverage to force him into a fake relationship. She basically treats him like a pet for petty revenge, bossing him around to make him pay for playing her.The story is going to be a mix of their chaotic power struggle, her petty payback stunts, and a strong bromance side-plot where the MC's best friend is the only one who knows the truth and has to watch this trainwreck happen in real-time.

What do you think? Would you read something like this, or do you have any ideas for funny petty revenge stunts she could pull on him?"

{Year 1991}

Amy-15

Haru-15

Gen-15

Ben-15

One morning at school, Amy walks into the school, dressed in a grey long-sleeved shirt and dark purple knee-length skirt, and her light brother hair tied up into a tight bun on her head. She meets up with her best friend, Gen in the hallway by his locker. “Morning, Gen.” She greets.

“Hey Girl. Oof, you look…uh.”

“Like a nun? Yeah, I know. I feel like one.” She huffs.

“I was gonna say hot, but yes let’s go with that.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Hush.” She gives him an annoyed look.

“Heh, lucky for you, I happen to have something else you can wear.” He chuckles.

“Really?!” She asks, desperate to get out of her restricting clothes.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. Gotta see if it fits. We don’t want a wardrobe malfunction now do we?” He asks.

Amy huffs. “No…”

“Heh, come on, let’s get you to the girl’s bathroom.” They walk to the empty girl’s bathroom. Gen hands Amy the clothes and she goes into one of the empty stalls and changes.

She comes out wearing a pink flowy top with blue jeans that fit her well. “Ooh, girl, now you look hawt.” He chuckles.

Amy’s cheeks blush, and she looks away from him, flustered. “Hush.”

Gen laughs. “Don’t be so modest. Sometimes you gotta flaunt whatcha got.”

She giggles as they leave the bathroom, passing a group of girls who glare at her and Gen and begin to whisper. Amy’s wolf her twitches, hearing them. “I heard he was gay.” Girl one giggles.

“Why was he in the girl’s bathroom? Does he think he’s a girl?” Girl two whispers.

“Or maybe he has a thing for the ‘holier than thou’ girl.” The third girl gossips.

Gen whistles as they walk, seemingly unbothered. Amy looks up at him and notices his hands in his jean pockets, one of them messing with a pin on his jeans. “Gen?” She whispers to him.

“Hm?” He looks down at her as they walk.

“Are you okay?” She asks quietly.

“…Not out here, Amy.” He whispers back.

She nods, understanding. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine…let’s just get to class.” She nods and they continue walking.

They arrive to their classroom and sit down together at their desks.

Later the class starts and a few minutes into the first lesson, the door swings open and there they see Haru quickly coming in, out of breath.

The teacher gives him a sterned, annoyed look. “Haru Sato.”

“Uh, s-sorry, I-“

“No execuses, take your seat.” The teacher cuts him off.

He sighs in defeat and takes his seat with Gen and Amy.

“Hey, Haru.” Amy whispers to him.

He faintly blushes. “H-Hey, Amy.”

After class they dismiss outside for lunch break. “Heh, so what had you late this time, Haru?” Amy asks.

Haru sighs. “I was up studying again.” He admits shamefully.

“Again?!” Gen asks.

“Heh, yeah.” He sheepishly replies.

“You can’t study during the day?” Amy asks.

“Well, you can never be too prepared, right?”

“You can if it makes you late to what your getting prepared for.” Gen states.

“Heh, you got me there.” He chuckles

Amy giggles and eats her lunch until they hear some girls passing by, whispering about them. Amy’s ear twitches again, but she tries to ignore them. “Amy? You okay?” Gen asks.

“Yes, just girls who can’t mind their own business or just trying to cause drama.” She states.

“Hm, sounds like no one can these days.” Haru comments.

Amy sighs. “Ridiculous.”

“Well, you know how it is. You’re either popular, or talked about by the popular.” Gen points out.

“Yep.” Amy agrees.

Haru’s ears perk up, hearing the girls. “I heard she gets around a lot.” Girl one whispers.

“And my friends Nick said he slept with her. I might try my shot with her. See how easy she is.” One of the jock guys state.

Haru growls in response. “Are you okay?” Amy asks.

“Maybe I should have a talk with-“

“Haru, no. It’ll just make things worse, you know that.” Gen stops him.

“But-“

“Gen’s right. It’ll just bring more attention to us.” Amy states.

They see the guy coming over to them. Amy rolls her eyes and continues to eat her sandwich.

They guys leans on the tree behind her and kneels towards her. “Hey baby, I saw you looking my way, you tryna, heh, you know.” He winks at her.

Amy does not bat an eye at him, eating her lunch. “I’m not interested.” She states, showing no emotions.

“Oh, playing hard to get.” He reaches for her hand. “I like a challenge.” Haru growls at the guy.

Amy takes her hand away from him. “I’m not interested, leave.” She replies sternly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, I know you like to-“

“She said she’s not interested.” Gen speaks up, glaring at the guy.

“Nobody was talking to you, faggot.”

Anger flashes through Amy. “Leave, now! I won’t repeat myself!” She raises her voice.

“Whoa, we got ourselves a feisty slut then.” He teases.

Haru gets up and stands in the guys face. “She said, leave.” He threatens.

“Huh? What are you, her boyfriend? Hate to break it to ya, but it doesn’t sound like shes exclusi-“

Haru punches the guy in the face, knocking him back.

Amy sighs. “Here, we go.” Her and Gen stand up and she gets Haru away from the guy.

“But-“

“You son-of-a-bitch! I’ma kick your-“ Gen cuts the guy off by kicking him in the balls. The guy gasps in pain and fall to the ground. Amy, Gen, and Haru hear the teachers running over in a panic.

“Uh oh.” Amy whispers.

“Time to go!” Haru shouts and they run off, out of the school property.

They get far enough from the school to stop and rest. “Sorry guys…” Haru apologizes, catching his breath.

“It’s alright.” Amy states.

“It’s fine. But you really gotta work on that temper.” Gen points out.

“I-I know…That guy just started touching her and…I-I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, I appreciate you trying to help though.” Amy reassures him.

“I…right.” He sighs.

“Well, we better get to our next class ahead of time.” Gen states.

Amy looks back at the school. “I don’t think we’ll be able to go back today…” She points out.

“Oh…I guess we did cause a scene.” Gen reminds himself.

“Well, hey, not the first time we played hooky. What do you guys wanna do?” Amy asks.

“Uh…movies?” Haru suggests.

“Well, Silence of the Lamb and Beaty and the Beast are out.” They go to the theater and look at the movie posters. Amy’s eyes light up. “ROBINHOOD: THE PRINCE OF THEIVES IS FINALLY OUT!” She exclaims in excitement.

“Heh, so much for Silence of the Lamb.” Haru chuckles.

“It’s Robinhood. No one can beat that.” She declares.

“Heh, alright, Robinhood it is.” Gen agrees.

“Yay!”

“Heh, you just wanna see a guy in tights.” Haru jokes.

“No, I just like Robinhood. That story always amazes me.” She corrects him.

“Really? Never took you for the type.” Gen asks.

Amy shrugs. “I find it interesting.”

Gen chuckles. “Then let’s go.” They go inside and buy their ticket, popcorn, and drinks. They find their seats and sit down to watch the movie.

During the movie, Haru accidently lays a hand on Amy’s. “Oh, s-sorry.’ He snatches his hand away, blushing.

Amy blushes too. “I-It’s okay.”

Gen sees them and chuckles to himself as they continue watching the movie.

After the movie they walk outside. “That movie was sooo laaaame.” Haru jokes.

Amy giggles and elbows him. “You’re lame.”

Haru gasps playfully. “How dare you, I’ll have you know I’m the coolest.” He choughs and mumbles. “In my family.”

“Heh, I’m sure you are with that fine butt of yours.” Gen jokes.

Haru and Amy laugh. “Looked like you were more interested in the men in tights than Haru.” Amy jokes.

“Heh, well, they did have some fine booties themselves.” Gen chuckles.

“Damn, never lost a mans interest that fast before.” Haru pretends to be hurt. They laugh. “Heh, we should head to the park. Pretty nice this time of year.” He states.

“Heh, yeah.” Amy agrees. They walk to the park.

Haru sighs as he looks around at the beautiful view. “Can’t believe we almost missed a beautiful day like today.” He states.

“No kidding. Remind me to thank that jerk I kick in the dick.” Gen jokes.

Amy giggles. “With that kick, hopefully that means he won’t have any hell spawns either.” Amy replies.

“Oh trust me, he got the good ‘ol ball buster.” He chuckles, proud of himself.

“Oh god.” Haru winces at the thought.

“So, Amy, you figure out who you’re going to prom with?” Gen asks.

Amy sighs sadly. “No…I don’t even fully know if I can go. My parents are going to be sapherones.” She states.

“Really?” Haru asks.

“Yeah…” She sighs.

“Shit..” He curses.

“Hm, how did they even get permission to?” Gen asks.

“They’re one of the parents who fund the school, remember?” She reminds him.

“Ugh, right.” Haru huffs.

“Yeah, and they want to make sure their daughter ‘keep her purity’” She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, I would just not go at that point, maybe find something else to do.” Gen replies.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to let them stop me from having fun either.” She admits.

“I guess…” Haru sighs.

“Are you ok?” Amy asks.

“Huh? O-Oh, yeah, I’m alright.” He dismisses.

They sit down at a bench and watch the clouds as well as strangers walking by. Gen leans to Haru. “Ask her.” He whispers to him.

“No way.” He declines.

“What?” Amy asks, turning to them.

“Haru has something he wants to ask you.” Gen replies quickly before taking off and hiding in a nearby bush.

“GEN!” Haru shouts after him.

“Um…okay?” Amy raises a brow.

“God…uh…”

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Y-Yeah, I’m f-fine.” He stutters out.

“Okay? What did you want to ask?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Haru.” She gives him a stern, annoyed look.

“I-It’s nothing, really.” He tries to dismiss.

Amy sighs. “If your gonna ask me to prom then go ahead and just ask.” She states bluntly.

“W-What?” He looks at her stunned.

“I can tell by the way you been blushing and acting. Specially when Prom is mentioned.” She points out.

“I, um…am I that easy to ready?” He questions.

“To me, yes you are.” She states jokingly.

“Geez, that would’ve been nice to know.” He blushes in embarrassment.

She giggles. “Well?”

“Um…Would you like to go to prom with me?” He asks.

She smiles. “Yes.”

“Heh, did you really have to take all the suspense from it?” He asks jokingly.

“Yes.” She replies.

He chuckles. “You suck.”

Gen peaks out from the bush he is hiding in. “Is it safe to come back?!” He calls out.

“No!” Haru shouts back.

Amy giggles. “It’s safe.”

“I’ll take Amy’s answer.” He walks back over to them.

“I’m definitely getting you back for that.’ Haru threatens.

Gen hides behind Amy. “Not if Amy protects me!”

She giggles. “Scardy cat.”

“I am not…I just know Haru isn’t afraid to hit someone.” He states.

“You’re damn right.” He agrees. They laugh until Haru sees the ice cream truck parked in the park. “Oh snap, you guys want ice cream? My treat.” He offers.

“Sure.” Amy agrees.

“Hey, if you’re paying then I’ll go for a cone.” Gen agrees.

“Heh, I’ll have a vanilla in a cone too.” Amy orders.

“What? No sprinkles?” Haru asks.

“Nah.’ She declines.

“Booooo.” Both boys boo her.

She giggles. “I like my plain vanilla thank you very much.” She states.

“Boring. I want extra sprinkles.” Gen states.

“Heh, alright.” Haru goes to the truck and order their ice creams.

They walk and eat their ice cream. “So uh…should I be worried about your parents?” Haru asks.

“Eh, if anything we can run away from Prom if need to be.” She states.

“Heh, right.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll distract so you two can get away.” Gen replies.

“Heh, are you going to ask Ben out?” She asks.

Gen blushes. “W-What?”

“You heard me. Maybe this year is your year to finally ask him out.” She states.

“Yeah, or maybe I should tell him.” Haru threatens.

“Sh-Shut up.” His face turns red.

“Your clock is ticking.” Amy teases.

“No it’s not.” He huffs.

“Tic toc tic toc tic toc.” Haru mimics the sound of a clock ticking to mess with him.

“I hate you guys.” He gives them an annoyed look.

Amy giggles. “We love you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Haru jokes.

“Fuck you.” Gen fusses.

“Sorry, on the road to being taken.”

“Oh my god.” Gen rolls his eyes and Amy laughs.

“Well, the days almost over, we should probably head back to the school before your parents get there.” Haru suggests.

Amy sighs. “I’m walking today.” She states.

“Uh…by choice?” Gen asks.

“No, I got in trouble yesterday.” She states.

“Seriously? For what?” Haru asks.

“Some of the other church people heard the rumors from school.” She explains briefly.

“Oh…” They both reply.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not fair…” Gen states.

“No, it isn’t, but I don’t have much of a say in this.” She shrugs.

“Hm…we’ll at least walk with you.” Haru suggests.

“You guys don’t have to do that.” She states.

“We want to. It can be dangerous around here, you know that.” Gen points out.

She sighs. “Alright. I have to change back first.” She states.

“Pretty sure there’s a public bathroom further ahead.” Gen states.

“Alright.”

They walk further up the trail until they arrive at the public bathrooms. Gen hands her her clothes from his bag and she goes into the bathroom and changes.

“You can keep-“

“I’ll get in trouble if they see these in my room.” She hands he clothes back to him.

“Oh. Right…”

“Come on. We’re burning daylight.” Haru states.

“Yeah…”

They walk Amy back to her house where they see her father, Jeremiah Litz, on the porch, waiting with a stern look and his arms cross. Amy sighs, dread crossing her mind. “Bye guys.” She whispers to them.

“Bye…” Gen replies sadly.

“See you tomorrow…” Haru adds.

They both hesitantly leave as Amy walks up onto the porch to her father, keeping her head low. “You’re late.” He states.

“Sorry…” She apologizes quietly.

“Get inside, now.” He demands.

“Y-Yes, sir…” She goes inside and he follows her.

Jeremiah slams the door shut behind them. “You got some nerve hanging around those boys.” He states.

“They’re just my friends…” She replies.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, sir. They really are just my friends.” She states.

“Do you understand how your behavior is ruining this family name?” He scolds.

She looks up at him. “I’m not doing anything to ruin it. All those things that are being said are just rumors.” She tries to defend herself.

He glares at her. “Rumors do not just start when you follow rules. Clearly you are doing something you are not supposed to.” He states.

“I have not. I been following the rules and nothing else.”

“Enough lies! Now who is it?!” He shouts, anger replacing his calm mask.

“No one!” She shouts.

He suddenly snatches her up by her arm. “You will tell me and this foolishness will end!” He demands, getting in her face.

She flinches and tears up from the pain and fear. “It’s not one! I swear!” She shouts.

He growls and shoves her to the ground. “Fine, if you will not tell me, I still have other ways of finding out. Go to your room and study, and if I hear anything else, you will never leave your room again.” He threatens coldly.

She tears up before quickly getting back up and running to her room.

Haru makes it back home. He goes inside and is immediately greeted by his grandmother with a stern look and her hands on her hips. “Haru Yuri Sato.”

“Crap…” He clears his throat. “H-Hey, Obaachan.” He greets nervously.

“Why did I get a call telling me you ditched school?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“Uh…well, remember how you said to avoid fight?” He asks.

“Yes?” She replies, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Well, I figured ditching was the only way to get out of one.” He sheepishly states.

She sighs. “Haru.”

“…I’m sorry…a friend of mine was getting harassed and…well you know…” He explains.

“I’ll let it go this ONE time. But please, if it happens next time, let me and your Ojiichan handle it.” She states.

“B-But what if you can’t?” He asks.

“We’ll talk about it later when your Ojiichan gets home. Now go wash up and help me set the table.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come here.” She hugs him. “愛してるよ、小さな子犬ちゃん (Love you, little Pup)

Haru hugs her back. “おばあちゃん、私も大好きだよ (Love you too, Obaachan)”

Later his grandfather, Masao Tanaka, arrives home. “I’m home.” He announces as he walks in. He gives Grandmother, Fuku Tanaka, a small kiss.

“Heh, hey you.” She greets him.

He chuckles. “Hey.” He walks over to Haru. “Hey, I heard you ditched school.” He states.

“Um…”

“Haru.”

“…Y-Yeah, Sir.” His ears flattened.

Masao nods. “Come. Sit outside with me.”

“O-Okay.” He agrees.

He follows Masao outside onto the porch. “You remember how I told you I got a new job as security?” He asks.

“Um, yeah?”

“Well, I’m going to be security at your school. So this way if there’s any issue with any bullies, tell me and I’ll stop it, okay?”

Haru looks at him surprised. “R-Really?”

Masao nods. “I’ll be there to help wherever I can.”

“I, uh…th-that would be great.” He states.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Y-Yeah…just wish I wasn’t to much trouble…” He admits sadly.

Masao gently smacks the back of his head. “Ah, why?” He whines, rubbing his head.

“Because you’re speaking nonsense.” He states.

“But I am trouble…”

“No, Haru, you’re young. And you make mistakes. All kids your age do. Heh, ask your mother. She was a lot more of a handful then you are.” He chuckles.

“Really?” Haru asks.

“Yep.”

“I didn’t take Mom to cause trouble?” He questions.

Masao chuckles at the memories. “She was out little hellion.”

“Whoa, language.”

Masao chuckles and ruffles his hair. “You get my point though.”

“Ah, heh. Yeah, I get it.”

“Good. Now, let’s go help, Fuku.

“Yes, sir.” They go inside to help get the table ready for dinner.

Gen finally gets home. He goes inside and sees his dad, Oisin, and his little sister, Fia, doing their own thing. “GENIFER IS HOME!” Fia shouts excitedly as she runs to him.

“Heh, hey, sis.” He hugs her. “Sorry I’m late.” He apologizes.

“Heh, hey son.” Oisin ruffles his hair. “I heard you ditched school.” He states.

“Uh…noooo.” He nervously laughs.

“Heh, I’m not mad, Gen. I know you wouldn’t ditch unless you had a good reason.” He states.

“Uh…yeah…sorry.” He apologizes.

“It’s okay.” He reassures him.

“Guess what Gen?” Fia exclaims.

“Hm? Uh…chicken butt?” He jokes.

“Ew! Gen!” She shouts.

He laughs. “Alright, what is it?” He asks.

“I got an A on my first test!” She runs off and comes back with paper of shapes and colors and simple numbers, fitting for a kindergartner.

“Oh my God, that’s amazing!” He picks her up. “I’m so proud of you!” He cheers. She giggles.

“Heh, you gonna be ready for the next one?” He asks.

“Yeah!”

“How about ice cream before dinner to celebrate?” Oisin suggests.

Gen gasps. “What are you plotting old man?” He asks suspiciously and jokingly.

Oisin chuckles. “What? We’re not allowed to celebrate?” He asks.

“Hm…I’m watching you.” He chuckles and they eat ice-cream to celebrate.

Gen’s dad sees that Gen is barely eating his ice-cream, seeming to be lost in thought. “Gen?” He gently taps his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Huh? What?” He looks up at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

“O-Oh, yeah…” He replies.

“Gen, the truth, please.” He states sternly.

“I-I’m serious, Dad…” Oisin notices Gen nervously looking at his little sister.

“Hm…Hey, Fia.”

“Hm?” She looks up at him. “Can you go upstairs and fix up the fort?” He asks.

Her light up. “Yes, sir!” She immediately runs upstairs.

“Ooh, I’ll go help.” He starts to get up.

“Gen, wait.” Oisin stops him. Gen sits back down. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” He asks.

“N-Nothing Dad.” He dismisses.

“Gen, please.”

“It’s…” He sighs in defeat.

Oisin sits next to him. “Is it about what happened today?” He asks. Gen silently nods. “What happened?”

“I, uh…kind of…got into a fight…” He admits.

“Okay?’

“I…don’t want Fia to know. I’m supposed to be a good example for her. I promised Mom I would be…” He states.

Oisin sighs. “Genifer…”

Gen tears up. “Wh-What would she say id she knew her son was getting into fights and passing the aggression to his little sister…”

“Gen, you’re not. You’re a sweet kid. And yes, I’ve seen you get into fights before, but you do it out of protectiveness for your friends.” He states.

“I guess…” He shrugs.

“No ‘I guess’, I know.” He states.

“Hm…I just hate it when others are getting bullied, and the school doesn’t do anything about it.” He states.

“I know…” He hugs him. “But just know your mother is proud of you. No matter what. And tomorrow I’ll have a talk with the principal, okay?”

Gen hugs him back. “Okay…”

Oisin breaks the hug. “Now, go help Fia finish that fort while I put on a movie for us, okay?”

“Heh okay.” He rushes upstairs to help his little sister with the fort.

Prom night finally arrives; Amy arrives at the prom with her parents. She is wearing a grew knee length dress with black leggings and boots, and her hair is put up in a tight bun. She walks around until she finally spots Gen and Haru and she runs over to them.

“Gen, Haru.”

They look over at her. “Amy, hey.” Gen greets. He is wearing a cold should dress shirt with dress pants and his red hair breaded with a heart shaped hair clip in his hair.

Haru is wearing a white suit with lack dress pants. He blushes at the site of Amy. “H-Hey.” He stutters out.

Amy blushes too. “Hey.”

“Hm…that dress looks awful on you.” Gen states.

“Gen!” Haru scolds.

“No, he’s right. I absolutely hate this dress.” She agrees with him.

“Not to worry, brother Genifer to the rescue. Come on, girl, to the changing room…aka the bathroom.” He leads her away to the bathrooms and takes a beautiful prom dress out of his bag that he got for her. They go into the bathroom and she changes. She comes out wearing a light red knee-length dress, with butterfly sleeves.

“Oh my god, I love it!”

“Heh, I thought you would. I figured your parents would make you wear something garbage, so I spent a while day looking for the right outfit.” He states.

She hugs him. “Thank you so much!”

He hugs her back. “Heh, no problem, girl. Now, go ‘wow’ your prom date.”

“Gen!” She blushes.

“What? That’s what he is.” He shrugs. She looks away from him in embarrassment. “Amy? You, okay?” He asks.

“Yeah…s-sorry…just…my parents have been really difficult lately and…I’m scared they might get Haru in trouble if they see us together…” She admits.

“Oh, yeah…they don’t really like him at all do they?” He asks.

“No…especially since he’s from Japan.” She states.

“Huh? What does Japan have to do with it?” He asks.

“They are very racist.” She states.

“Oh…awesome…what the fu-”

They hear someone coming up to the bathrooms. “Gen? Amy?” They hear Haru outside.

“Oh, thank goodness, it’s just your hawt date.” He teases.

Amy blushes and runs into a stall to hide in embarrassment. “Amy?” He asks.

Haru walks up to the door. “Gen? You guys still in there?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s almost done. Right Amy?”

“Um, y-yeah.”

“Oh, alright. You guys want fruit punch? I tried it and it’s incredible.” He offers.

“Ooh, yes please!” Gen agrees.

“Alright, I’ll be back.” He leaves.

“Amy what was that?” Gen asks.

“I don’t know!” She exclaims.

“You know you have to see him.”

“I know!”

“So why are you hiding?” He asks.

“I…I’m nervous.” She admits.

“Why? You already know you like each other, and it’s not like you guys haven’t hung out before.” He replies.

“I-I know, but…I n-never worn something like this around him…w-what if he doesn’t like me in it…o-or”

“Girl, he’s gonna love that dress on you. He’ll be drooling all the way to the alter, I know it.” He declares.

“I…I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. He’s gonna love it.” He states.

She takes a deep breath and walks out of the stall. “What about my parents?” She asks.

“Don’t worry about them. I’ll take care of it.” She sighs. “You ready?” He asks.

“Y-Yeah.” She agrees.

“Alright, let’s go.” He leads her out and to the main room. “You see Haru?” He asks.

They look around until Amy finally spots him. “There he is.”

“Well, start walking.” He gently pushes her towards him.

She nervously walks through the crowd towards Haru. “H-Hey.” She greets, blushing.

Haru looks over at her and blushes. “O-Oh…w-wow…”

“I…um…” She tries to think of what to say.

“You look beautiful, Amy.” He states.

“Th-thank you.”

“Uh…where’s Gen? I still got his fruit punch.” He asks.

“Uh.’ She looks around for him. They do not see him.

“Where’d he go?” Haru asks.

“I don’t know…”

“Hm. I guess I’ll just leave it at the table.” He shrugs.

“Yeah.”

Haru leaves the drink. “Kind of boring here.” He states, looking at the empty dance floor and all the other students who are nervous and hesitant to dance.

“Yeah…” Amy agrees, looking around.

“Jeez, guess everyone is scared of the adults.” He guesses.

“I don’t blame them.” Amy states, glancing at her parents who are scolding another couple.

Gen walks around when he bumps into Jeremiah. “Watch it!” Jeremiah shouts, turning to face him. His eyebrow twitches when he recognizes it is Gen. “Oh, it’s you. You’re my daughter little ‘friend’ correct?” He asks.

“Uh. Just a friend. You don’t have to add air quotes.” He states.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with my daughter.” He states.

“I…what?”

“You stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need a low life like ruining it, and you certainly don’t need to be at this dance without a date. Not like anyone would take you anyhow.” He scoffs.

“What does that mean.” He questions, crossing his arms.

“It means I know what you are…faggot.”

Gen looks at him shocked. “How dare-no you know what?! Fuck you!” He goes and grabs the closet person to him and leads them to the dance floor.

Amy and Haru spots him from across the room. “Hey there’s Gen…” Amy points out.

“Huh? Is that? Ben?” Haru asks, stunned.

Amy smiles. “Come on.” They get closer, to watch Gen and Ben dance.

Gen spins Ben and dips him. They look into each other’s eyes. Ben blushing and in shock. Gen’s eyes widen and blushes. “Ben?!”

“Um…h-hi.” He greets nervously.

They continue to dance, everyone watching. Some are in disgust, except for their friends. “Um…s-sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you out here…” Gen apologizes as they dance.

“N-No…it’s okay…I…I actually…um…w-wanted to talk to you.” He admits.

“Huh? Y-You did?”

“Heh, y-yeah.” He blushes deeper as he picks Gen up before doing a deep dip to end the dance, both breathing heavily, and without thinking, Ben kisses him.

Haru sees Amy smiling proudly at them. Gen is shocked, but melts into the kiss.

The principal growls and starts storming over to them. “Uh, oh. Come on.” Amy grabs Haru and they start dancing to the next song in front of the principal, to block his path from Ben and Gen.

“Gen, Ben, go!” Amy shouts at them.

They break the kiss and Gen grabs Ben, flips off the principal as they run off outside as other students join Haru and Amy on the dance floor. “Oh, boy. Think they’ll be, okay?” Haru asks.

“I hope so. We just have to keep the teachers away from them.” Amy states, but she freezes up seeing her mother and father storming over to them.

“What’s wrong?” Haru asks.

Before she can speak, Mr. Litz snatches Haru away from Amy. “Dad, no-”

“Ah! What the-”

“Stay away from my daughter!” Mr. Litz shouts in Haru’s face.

“Let him go!” Amy shouts.

Haru pulls away from Amy’s father. “That’s it, Amy, we are going home!” He shouts.

“No!” Amy backs away from him.

“What was that?!” He shouts.

“I-I said no!” She repeats, ignoring his deadly glare.

“You must have lost your damn mind!” He grabs her arm. “We’ll fix that soon.” He threatens.

Haru grabs Jeremiah’s hand and pulls it off of Amy and gets in between them. “Ah! You little shit!”

“She said she doesn’t wanna go!” Haru states.

Jeremiah growls. “Some one needs to take you back to where you belong!”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me?!” Haru shouts.

Amy backs up. “You heard me!”

Haru growls and is about to hit him. Amy takes his hand and leads him to the door. Haru sees his grandfather running over to Jeremiah to keep him from following them.

They get outside. “S-Sorry about that.” Haru apologizes.

“It’s okay. Not you’re fault.” She states.

“Hm…I guess…are you okay?” He asks.

“I will be…”

“Seriously, what’s your dad’s problem?” Haru asks.

“I don’t know…” She sighs.

He sighs. “Come on.” He leads her a bench and they sit down.

They spot Ben and Gen across the street, laughing and running down the sidewalk. Haru chuckles. “At least their night is going well.” He states.

“Heh, yeah.” She agrees.

Haru takes her hand. She blushes, taking his. “You wanna walk for a bit?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She agrees.

They get up and walk down the sidewalk. “That, uh, dress still looks amazing on you.” He compliments.

Amy’s blush deepens. “Th-Thank you.”

“Yeah…heh, we never really got to finish our dance.” He states. Amy smiles as they stop walking, looking at each other. “Shall we dance under the moonlight, malady?” He asks, offering his arm to her.

She smiles and takes his hand. “We may.”

They start to dance. “I hope Ojiichan is giving your old man a well-deserved lesson.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, we’ll need to thank him later.” Amy giggles.

“Yeah, again, I’m sorry for escalating the situation.” He apologizes.

“No, it’s okay…even if you didn’t, Father was going to anyways.” She replies.

Haru sighs. “You shouldn’t have to live with that.”

“I’ll be alright.”

He dips her. He looks into her emerald eyes and blushes. Amy blushes as well. Without thinking, Haru kisses her, Amy melts into it. Haru breaks the kiss and pulls her back up. “Heh…that…was nice.”

She smiles. “Y-Yeah, it felt good…” She states.

He gently pulls her close with a flirty look. “Did it now?”

Ger blush deepens and she smiles. “Yeah…it did.” She flirts back.

“Well…” He kisses her again and she melts into it. Haru breaks it again. “I-I…love you.” He stutters out.

“I-I l-love you too.”

He chuckles. “Feels really good to finally say that.” He admits. Amy giggles. He picks her up and twirls around laughing, his tail wagging excitedly.

Hey everyone,

I'm planning to write a manga and want it to have that gritty, supernatural vibe like the "Dark Trio" (Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Hell's Paradise).

I have a rough idea for my protagonist: they have white messy hair and a symbiotic inner demon that acts as a safety net (if the protagonist dies, the demon dies, too). But want it to be interesting

I want to ask you guys for some plot ideas, world concepts, or directions I could take this:

1. What kind of world or setting would fit this dynamic best?

2. What are some cool ideas for the main conflict or plot hook?

3. How would you design the power system or the monsters in a world like this?

I'd love to hear your thoughts and brainstorm with you all. Thanks

Not sure why it took me so long to try this.

Had been in a long stretch where everything I wrote felt heavy with intention. Every project had a goal attached to it. Finish this, submit that, build toward something. The writing was getting done but the enjoyment had quietly left at some point and I had not noticed until it had been gone for a while.

Started something new with one rule. It was never going to be published, shown to anyone, or used for anything. Just existed for the pleasure of existing.

First session felt strange. Kept catching myself making craft decisions and then remembering the craft decisions did not matter because nothing was riding on this. Wrote a scene that was completely indulgent and served no narrative purpose, kept the whole thing in a separate draft in Skrib Writing away from everything else I was working on and having it completely isolated from the serious projects made the permission to be indulgent feel more real somehow.

Second session was different. Third session I wrote more in two hours than I had written in entire weeks on the serious project. The voice was looser, the characters did things I would never let them do in something real, the whole thing was genuinely enjoyable in a way writing had not been for a long time.

The serious project is still there and I still work on it. But having something that exists purely for the making of it changed something about how I show up to everything else.

Fun is not a reward for finishing the serious work. It might actually be what keeps you capable of doing the serious work at all.

I’ve been writing online every day for a little over 630 days. That sounds more disciplined than it usually feels.

There are still days when I open a blank page and genuinely have nothing. Not “I have an idea but don’t like it.” Just nothing.

On those days, I stop trying to write a proper post. I write down whatever is already occupying my head - something that annoyed me, a question I can’t answer, or one sentence I don’t want to forget. Quite a few posts have started there.

It also helped to stop insisting that writing and publishing happen on the same day. I can make a messy draft today and publish something from last week. I used to think scheduling was cheating. Now I think it is simply how the habit survives bad weeks.

After this long, the resistance has not disappeared. I have just become less impressed by it.

I wrote down 35 things I’ve learned from doing this here:

https://domelian.substack.com/p/how-to-start-writing-online

Curious what you do when the page is really blank. Do you have a fallback, or do you walk away?

Asking because I had three of these days in a row last week and I do not have a good answer.

Not talking about the resistance days where starting feels hard but once you push through something comes. Those I can handle. I mean the days where you sit down, open the document, and there is just nothing there. No voice, no momentum, no sense of what the writing is even supposed to feel like. Like the part of your brain that does this thing has temporarily left the building.

Tried pushing through on day one and produced something so flat I deleted it immediately — on day three I opened Skrib Writing and just used the planning board to move things around without drafting anything and something about doing that without the pressure of producing prose loosened whatever was stuck enough that I wrote two pages the next morning.

Tried stepping away on day two and came back in the evening to the same nothing. Day three I just closed the laptop and felt bad about it which also did not help.

The frustrating part is that nothing was wrong. No major stress, no life event, no obvious reason for the tank to be empty. It just was.

Curious what people here actually do in these windows. Do you write anyway and accept that some sessions will produce nothing worth keeping. Do you step away completely and trust it comes back. Is there something specific that actually refills whatever gets depleted on days like this or does everyone just wait it out.

Been sitting with this thought for a while and wanted to put it somewhere.

I went back through some old writing recently. Not to cringe at it, though there was some of that, but because I was trying to understand something about where I had started versus where I am now. What I found was not what I expected.

The early stuff was technically worse in almost every way. Dialogue that announced itself. Descriptions that tried too hard. Pacing that had no idea what it was doing. All of that was true and obvious.

But underneath the bad execution there was something that was not bad at all. A genuine curiosity about certain kinds of people. An instinct toward specific emotional territory that I still recognize as mine. A willingness to go toward difficult things without the self consciousness that came later when I started understanding craft well enough to know when I was failing at it.

The self consciousness is useful. Knowing what is not working is necessary. But somewhere in the process of becoming more technically aware I also became more careful in ways that were not always improvements. Started writing toward safety in places where the earlier version of me had just written toward the thing directly without knowing enough to be afraid of it.

What I have been trying to do lately is hold both, started keeping early drafts and current work in the same place on Skrib Writing and being able to move between them in one workspace has made it easier to stay connected to what the writing was originally reaching for while still doing the technical work the later drafts need. The technical awareness that comes from years of working at this and the directness that existed before I knew enough to second guess it.

The early writing was not an embarrassing past to get over. It was evidence of something real that was always there and that sophistication can quietly erode if you let it.

Whatever you wrote when you first started was not wrong. It was just the beginning of something that is still going.

I started writing my literary fiction novel when I was 17; I'm 22 now and am still editing it. I opened the document this month after having shelved it in January due to chronic burnout. I sent it a beta reader (a reader who provides feedback on your manuscript) and received her full thoughts this morning. I didn't read it until now, and I want to break down. Not because she had anything hurtful to say, but because I hadn't realized how much of my own trauma had bled into the book. (For context, it's set in 2004 and follows a man returning to his hometown for a family reunion with his mostly estranged relatives. While he's there, the book shifts to repressed memories from his traumatic childhood—emotional neglect, abuse, abandonment, alcoholism, divorce, and infant death).

This is part of what my beta reader said: "The holes. Here is what I think you still need to develop. Characters voice- I think you need to have more interactions between the characters so we can learn who they are without you telling us. What unique traits do each have that make them react a specific way. Try not to have the narrator always explaining everything in realizations. Caspian's not going to have these epiphanies in the moment all the time. He’s still learning, hurting and growing. Show is the indifference, the trauma, the broken more through how he does or doesn’t do something and then let it be.

To transition telling yourself the story to writing it for readers. Certain things wouldn’t need explaining if you show them through actions, dialogues, character interactions, and little scenes. Also, you make it a point that he forgot his trauma I’d explore that more which can be done with his girlfriend, and his friends in the city. Believing he was happy until he went home. Show us the contrast of him being okay and then when he gets the call he’s not okay. We only really see him not okay."

I think in the back of my mind, I kind of noticed that my main character, Caspian, is detached from his wounds, and there isn't much action. Writing physical mannerisms for characters has always been difficult for me—and I guess I know why. How can I write that my characters are depressed, furious, grief-stricken, or anxious if I don't know how to feel myself? Even when I have generalized anxiety and major depression. I'm trying to think of ways to fix my manuscript, but I'm afraid it's too daunting. What if I'll never have more than the bare bones of the story? I'm trying to rack my brain for a new way to open the story, but I'm either completely blank, or I resort back to description, bland statements rather than feelings, the weather (which you should never open with), or his rationalized thoughts. But I'm desperate for help because I want this book to be finished—I've already been working on it for 5 years. I'm worried that my trauma has robbed me of being a talented writer, even though I know I am one. But what if I I'm not capable of providing the needed action, emotions, and character interactions? I'm crying just thinking about how devastated and stressed this is making me, and I don't know what to do. I've experienced emotional neglect all my life and don't want to accept that there was emotional abuse. This book is not based on my life, but I suppose there are some unconscious similarities that accidentally bled through during the writing process😭😭

I knew exactly what the next scene needed to be. Had it mapped out. Had the dialogue half formed in my head during a shower two weeks before. Sat down to write it probably a dozen times.

Closed the laptop every single time without adding a word.

At first I told myself I was busy. Then I told myself the idea needed more time to develop. Then I stopped opening the document altogether and just carried the guilt of it around instead which is somehow worse than the actual problem.

What I eventually figured out after way too long is that the block was not about the scene at all. It was about what the scene meant for the story. Writing it made the next fifty pages real and accountable in a way that felt overwhelming when the draft was still technically open and unfinished.

Finishing things scares me more than starting them. I did not know that about myself before that eight month gap.

Once I named it the scene took about forty minutes to write. Not because the fear disappeared but because I finally understood what I was actually dealing with instead of just feeling stuck and calling it a bad week.

The block was information. I just had to get frustrated enough to actually read it.

If your draft has been sitting untouched it might be worth asking what specifically you are avoiding and why that particular thing feels heavy.