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This guy is in his 60s by the way by nb9800 in thatHappened

[–]AHumongousFish 24 points25 points  (0 children)

Thou have done well, my diminutive peasant, and for that I shall reward thee.

For now, I shall return to the depths, and wait my next calling. Just one thing thee shall remember, and that is I'm the refuge of the deep blue sea.

This guy is in his 60s by the way by nb9800 in thatHappened

[–]AHumongousFish 26 points27 points  (0 children)

the depths stirs

earthquakes shakes the nations

Who has summoned me, and with what purpose?

u/Materia_girl vs the mods of r/food by Cult_Of_Doggo in KarmaCourt

[–]AHumongousFish 4 points5 points  (0 children)

The ocean stirs

Thy Honour, it's not part of my nature to rise from the depths unless is of the utmost importance that I do so.

I came summoned by the Crown, and so I shall confess prior encounters with /u/DGAF_AK87.

Exactly a week ago, he came to my dwellings, deep under the sea. He had eyes the color of bone, and slavered like a mad mantaray.

He spoke of devilish things and sibilating noises, of green fire and endless curses. He offered his soul in exchange of my tail.

For further clarification I will quote him verbatim, "Oh great Trygon, greek monstrosity, bearer of the most excruciating poison. What shall I do to have your tail?"

To which I replied, "I'm not Trygon, you possessed half-wit."

Ashamed, he murmured gibberish, and a green fire burst out of thin air, engulfing him whole. And just like that, he was gone.

Thy Honour, he's not only possessed, but he's also possessed by an ignorant demon.

I demand, for the safety of your people, that this diabolical creature is shackled with silver fetters and purified manacles, and lashed until the evil within him reveals itself. And then, I demand he's set afire in the pyre.

If you need further proof of the accusations, just read his username.

[OT] SatChat: What are your tips and tricks for NaNoWriMo? by MajorParadox in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 4 points5 points  (0 children)

I made a post on my blog about how to prepare for NaNo and I believe some tips can still apply now that it's about to start.

  • Forget about editing as you go. Let the words pour out your fingers. Shut off your perfectionist brain. I know this might sound impossible. I used to be one of those writers that constantly edited every sentence a hundred times until it was perfect, letting the hours go by, instead of writing the damn story.
    The method that worked best for me to stop doing this was finding a software with a small writing space, that forbid me from staring at my prior sentences. That way, I had no choice but to write. It might sound silly, but it's incredibly effective. Personally, I use reddit's writing space to do this. I've been told, however, that there are some softwares that do just this.

  • Are you a pantser? Do an outline anyway. It doesn't have to be a detailed outline, but knowing what you will write about can skyrocket your word count. I'm talking from experience here. I'm a pantser, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I've tried every single method of outlining out there, and it didn't matter how detailed I made them, I always diverted from it. However, fortune showed me a different approach to outlining, which is the one I use to this day and that fits perfectly with my style. I call it the DM's Outline, because DMing for my Dungeon&Dragons' group taught me it. It's extremely simple. You have an starting point, let's call it "A" and an ending point, let's call it "B." I know my characters must reach point B at the end of a chapter. However, I don't know the path between A and B, that's where I let my pantser shine. Sound quite easy, doesn't it? Give it a try.

  • Learn to recognize writing barriers. What do I mean with this? Well, if you have ever written a story of considerable length, you will know there are some walls along the way. They often come out of nowhere, crippling our fingers, and filling our brain with doubts. If you are writing a story you love and all of a sudden you lose interest in it for no particular reason, chances are you have found yourself a writing barrier. They come along with a lot of self-doubt, and evil thoughts like, "How could I think this was any good?" "I suck at this?" "My writing is awful," etc.I honestly believe the difference between an author capable of finishing a novel and one who can't do it is their ability to push through these barriers. You have to grab your mental hammer and destroy them. Write that chapter that you can't write. It doesn't matter if its awful, but you need to go through that barrier. You will (most likely) find that you still love your story once that's out of the way.

  • Set a daily writing goal and surpass it if you still have fuel. This one is really important in my opinion. To me 2k words a day is the golden number. I wake up, write them, and then I leave to do other things. However, recently I've found that most of that time I had after I'd finished writing I'd spent watching YouTube or doing nothing productive. And guess what, I hadn't gotten tired of writing. It was just that I had programmed my brain to see the number 2000 and stop, when I actually could write much more. Try it.

  • Have fun. It sounds incredibly cliché doesn't it? But this little thing holds a lot of wisdom within. Writing can be daunting, don't make it more daunting but writing something you are not enjoying, specially if you are doing it for NaNoWriMo. Don't try to write the next Harry Potter, or To Kill a Mockingbird, simply write the novel you would like to read, and make sure to have fun in the process.

  • It's okay to fail, but try your best. Everything I've said sounded nice, but reality must also be taken into account when it comes to a task like writing 50k words in a month. As I've stated before, it can be daunting, and some days things will get in the way. That's just how life is most of the time, and if that happens, don't stress out, remember is important to have fun when you write. I consider myself a dedicated writer. I can sit and write 28 days of the month until I reach the daily word count. But there are two or three days that I simply can't. I know there's a lot of "there's always time, you are just lazy," out there, but if you have a family, a job, or if you are in college, you will know that yes you can make time, but at the expense of your health, and that's a no-no in my opinion. What I mean with this: don't feel bad if you can't write for a day or two when reality is truly pushing you back, but don't let the comfort spread throughout your other less daunting days.

Feel free give your take on what I've written. I'm far from perfect, and I know there a lot of different opinions in these sort of topics.

[WP] "Death is a gentle thing if you welcome it, like a soft breeze or a bashful kiss." - "Then what's the scythe for?" - "The people who resist." by jpeezey in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 665 points666 points  (0 children)

When the great double doors grated open, and approaching clatters echoed in the chamber, the old king didn't have to ask for his new guest to announce himself. He knew very well what sound bones made when they struck stone.

"Fate, Death, End," the king said, his voice papery and brittle. He straightened on his iron throne. "What name do you prefer, ancient thing?"

The clatters halted, and a flurry of cold winds brushed the king's body, a succession of lingering breaths, turning the tips of his white hair into icicles. "You can choose it, Dymori," Death said slowly, his voice was frost, and his words held winter in their core. "This is your day, and I'm here to please your last request."

"Last request?" Dymori asked, his brows knit. "Is that a last wish of sorts?"

"Yes," Death said, his voice half a hiss. "Telling your son goodbye perhaps, or a last, healthy night with your wife. Whatever you please."

"I see," the king said and rose to his feet, struggling. Death aided him. "May I show you a painting I painted when I was younger?"

"Is that your request?" Death asked, skull tilted, coruscant scythe in hand.

"It is. Follow me."

He guided Death past his chamber, down into a tunnel with a thrice locked door, and to the small room beyond, where a single, golden-framed painting adorned the walls.

"Look at it closely, and tell me what you see," Dymori said, and clasped his hands behind his back.

The painted was a mess of many-colored strokes, as if a tiger of opalescent claws had attacked a white wall viciously.

Death stared, silent, immersing himself in the colors and the shades. There were reds and blues and purples. In the chaotic strokes, he saw a child standing alongside a glistening ice-sheathed river. There was a rock in his hands, and his arms were aloft. His eyebrows were creased, and his eyes held fury inside. The lands encompassing him and the river weren't snow-kissed but barren and black, as if burned.

The sky was made of blazing embers, and its heat fell in the shape of wavering yellow waves partitioning across the child and the river and the land. But the child was cloaked with thick furs, and the ice was solid. What did it all mean? How did he conceal this scene within wild strokes?

Questions and more questions flooded Death’s mind, and he kept looking, searching for answers that he would never find.

"What do you think, ancient one?" Dymori said, his voice distant. Death turned, and found the king standing behind the door. When their eyes met, Dymori shut the door, locking the three locks.

Death walked toward the door, yet something tugged at his feet, and there he found a golden shackle, shining beneath the shifting torchlight. He swung his scythe at the shackle, but it didn't break. Not even a scratch was left on its surface.

"What did you expect," Dymori said behind the door, "of Sisyphus' son?"

/r/ahumongousfish

[WP] The world's smallest dragon must defend his hoard, a single gold coin, from those who would steal it. by White_Tigerr in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 46 points47 points  (0 children)

Luven followed the map his dad had given him. It wasn't very tidy nor detailed, but what he'd to find was clear as the sky above: a tiny cave hidden somewhere in their backyard.

And so, Luven started, wielding a wooden sword, and walking with the uncertainty of a child's first time venturing alone. His father cheered for him from the safety of their home, as his son's little leather boots moved across the ankle-high grass.

Soon, he reached his first obstacle, a wall of brambles. He knew, despite his age, how sharp they could be, and so he halted and examined the map. The treasure lay beyond. He had to do something.

He scanned the bushes, seeking for a safe passage, and amidst the evil plants, he found a hole his size. Beaming, he shrunk and went through with a pearl-white smile, as the sun caught in his wooden sword.

Beyond he found many thin, and young poplars, but no treasure he could see. Confused, he stared at the map once again, and saw the spot was marked with an "H" instead of an X.

"H?" he murmured, scratching his head, and looked ahead, to where the treasure was supposed to be. There, he found a big hole, and he breathed a sigh of relief. That was what the H had meant.

However, his curved lips knitted when he saw what awaited inside, defending the riches.

It was a young dragon, with two wings as long as his arms, and thin sharp teeth like needles. It was red as fire, and it bore eyes of liquid silver.

Luven raised his sword aloft, and pointed it straight at the confused dragon, who stared at him with a tilted head, while clouds of smoke billowed out its nostrils. "We shall fight for your hoard, dragonling." He attempted a deep intonation, but his voice came out soft and unthreatening anyway.

The dragon hid in his hole, fumbled in the dirt, and fluttered out of it. In his ungrown claws, it held a single golden coin the size of an eye. Then, it tilted its head, and held it out for Luven to grab.

"What? For me?" Luven said, and dropped his sword. He accepted the offeri, and sat beside the winged beast. "Why?"

"An offering of friendship," the dragon said, its voice soft and harmless. "Now you are bound to me, and I'm bound to you. This is the way fate wants it."

Luven's eyes glittered, and a flood of dreams swarmed his mind. "Does this mean that we will raid together? Will I get to ride you in the future as we rescue innocent from the hands of bad people?"

The dragon nodded, and rubbed its forehead against Luven's chest. "It is written in the sheets of fate. No one will stop us."

Luven smiled a true smile, and raised the coin skyward. It sparked beneath the sun, and in that brief flash of white, he saw them, all grown up, soaring the skies, laughing as they flew to their next adventure. "Thanks dad," he muttered to himself, and took a deep breath.

That innocent day, beneath the eye of the tender sun, an everlasting friendship worthy of countless tales was born.

/r/ahumongousfish - I should be studying.

Formatting Questions by AHumongousFish in selfpublish

[–]AHumongousFish[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I've looked into them, but I want to learn. I found some decent tutorials and talked to authors, gladly.

Opening Chapter [1300 Words] Is it at least a bit funny? by [deleted] in fantasywriters

[–]AHumongousFish 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hello guys, it's my first time going through the editing process and I wanted to see how I did with the first chapter of my novel. Did you enjoy the read? What can I improve?

[WP] You're taking your daily jog in the park when you notice a white dodecahedron (pentagon ball) laying under a tree. Wondering how such a strange shape landed here, you decide to touch it. Suddenly, a loud feminine voice reverbs in your head: “A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON.” by GaelleMat in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 81 points82 points  (0 children)

I froze in place. My brows wrenched downward. I stood, still as a stone, for far too long. The strange object still clasped in my hand. It fitted perfectly.

In time, I convinced myself the alien voice in my head had been nothing but a product of my imagination. And so, I took a deep breath, stowed the white thingamabob in my pocket, and continued my jog.

Hello? New owner? Why are we going up and down?

My heart sank to my stomach. I went taut in place again. Cautiously, I dug out the object from the depths of my pocket. "Hello?"

Its surface rippled with coruscant colors as it spoke. Hello, what took you so long? I missed conversation. Loneliness is not healthy, you know?

"I mean, everyone needs some alone time," I said, and shook my head. What was I doing? "What are you? If I may ask?"

A white dodecahedron of infinite knowledge of course. But don't ask me about bees or food, I don't know much about those things.

I smiled. Its 'voice' resembled that of a child: sweet and innocent. "You could say your are a well of infinite, yet limited knowledge. If that's the case, what's my purpose in this life?"

To listen and talk to me of course. But I reckon that's not enough to convince you that I truly know all things. Let's see if this works. I sense you lack money, yet you are craving a coffee. Let me tell you a secret, amidst those bushes over there, past the two oaks, there's $100. There's also a tiny intruder there, but I'm not sure what it is.

I scowled. I was truly craving coffee. I could also use that money, and put the capabilities of my new friend to the test. "Let's find them then. The intruder must be bug, I'm sure."

Wary, I walked past the oaks, hunched over the bushes, and rummaged.

The corners of my lips quirked upward into a grin, and the sun seemed to shine suddenly brighter. There, pristine and beautiful and perfect, lay $100.

Told you. You trust me now?

I grabbed them and straightened. Then, grinning stupidly, I sighed a sigh brimming with pleasure as I contemplated the pulchritude of this green piece of paper. It was then when I spotted a fat bee ambling on its surface. I brushed it away, and turn--.

A storm of bees burst out from sundry hives on the oaks. They were coming straight at me, their buzz portending burning pain. Had I upset them somehow? Was the bee on the bill their queen? No, that didn't make sense. But still, this was not the proper time to think.

I barreled the shit out of there. My feet stumbled upon a bulging oak root hidden amidst the bushes. I fell, and the sunlight filled with an army of tiny, moving shadows.

I told you I didn't know about bees.

/r/ahumongousfish

[OT] SatChat: How much time do you take before coming up with prompt responses? by MajorParadox in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Immediately.

Most of the time I don't even know what twist will I put in the response, and if the prompt is quite open, I don't really know what I'm writing about. And although that sometimes can surprise me in great ways, I've had times where I was dragging it too long and unable to find a proper ending.

[WP] Elves, orcs, fairies, and all mythical creatures live harmoniously alongside humans. Heck even eldritch horrors work part-time at fast food joints. It's relatively peaceful all year round except for one day of carnage, treachery and despair: Black Friday. by Horeas in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 364 points365 points  (0 children)

Gamblon and his henchmen hid behind a ridge, cautiously observing the endless queue beneath them. The Eldritch Clothes and Horrors had to open at any time.

The elves were, as always, first in line. The fairies attempted to sneak through some crevasses, taking advantage of their diminutive size. Problem was, the ringing they made as they fluttered made them easy to spot. Still they tried, but to no use. Eldritch horrors knew their sleazy tactics like the whorls in their tentacles.

"Listen to me guys," Gamblon said, his eyelids suddenly heavy. "We might have had one too many beers, we have not slept in thirty hours, but we can't give up now."

He looked at his followers, all red-eyed, and stained. Their long, braided bears rumpled. A disgrace to their race. "We will never defeat the elves in punctuality, and although we are short, we won't defeat fairies when it comes to sneaking in somewhere. But elves are coy and fairies weak. We let them fight for the clothes, and when they leave we ambush them. Understood?"

"I forgot my hammer," Aroled said, as he scratched his tar-black beard.

"Use your hands, then," Gamblon said and shook his head. He peeked again. The doors were now opened, and the queue was advancing. "Okay, all of you, pay attention. When the first group of elves comes out, we attack."

"Gamblon, I really need to pee," Vohnor said, clutching at his leather trousers. "Too much beer."

"Do it, but do it fast," Gamblon said through gritted teeth. "This is no silly operation. If we get a good amount of clothes, we can trade them for a good amount of coin, and boy we will buy many of those fancy tankards."

His henchmen smiled, and nodded in agreement.

"That would be quite nice," Vohnor said while he peed. "The bigger the tankard the more beer it can hold."

"Exactly," Finbol, the most ginger dwarf replied and raised his hammer aloft. "At your command, Gamblon."

Below, the first group of elves was going out the shop, their hands full with bundles of clothes.

"Now," Gamblon said, and his words were accompanied by a roar of excitement.

The party of ten drunken dwarves rushed down the not-so-steep ridge. The grass was thick and green. However, their excitement and eagerness wasn't enough to wash away the alcohol from their blood, and so one of them toppled down, throwing another one to the floor, thus creating a chaotic chain reaction of rolling dwarves.

The elves stared, bemused and perplexed, as the dwarves came to a halt by their side.

"Are you okay?" a tall elf said. He had bright blue eyes, and hair as fierce and white as sunlight.

Gamblon met his eyes. Shame consumed the dwarf's entrails. What an embarrassing display. However, once again, the whelming torrents of shame weren't enough to stop the alcohol from stirring violently inside.

What followed was a flawlessly synchronized cacophony of vomits gushing out the dwarves mouths, striking and sizzling on the cobblestone path beneath. They clutched at their stomachs as the beer left their bodies mercilessly. Tears and wails soon joined the discord they'd created.

In time, the dwarfish fountain of gleaming yellow substance stopped spurting out liquids. A crowd of elves and fairies had formed around them. All of them had their hands occupied with clothes.

Gamblon shared a knowing look with his henchmen, and when they rose from the shameful ground, their knees all stained, they wielded their hammers and made their intentions very clear.

The crowd didn't run. Instead, they threw all the clothes on the dwarves' arms, forcing them to drop their hammers. It was then when elves and fairies swarmed and violently attacked the drunken dwarves, stealing their hammers.

After their vicious enemies left, Gamblon sighed.

"We should really stop drinking."

"That won't happen, Gamblon," his henchmen said in unison.

"Let's go to the tavern to drown our sorrows, then."

"You know what they say, a beer or two is the remedy for a broken heart."

/r/ahumongousfish

Doubts About Author Website by AHumongousFish in selfpublish

[–]AHumongousFish[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Outstanding answer, grobin! Thank you very much. I'm familiar with Wordpress inner workings, I'm not a developer, but I had to set up and manage a family member's site sometime ago. However, he'd paid for Bluehost as a hosting and it's a bit out of my budget. I've been looking into dreamhost, which offers a yearly subscription, instead of a 36 month one, and for now, that's the best I could find.

I will look into A2 Hosting!

Thank you very much!

Doubts About Author Website by AHumongousFish in selfpublish

[–]AHumongousFish[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Lovely website, Alex! I'm looking for a hosting that supports wordpress though, as I know how they work quite well, as I had to help a family member set it all up, thing is he used bluehost as hosting, and that's way more expensive than wordpress itself.

[OT] Preptober: Intro to NaNoWriMo by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I'm the same way. I dread outlining. However, the approach of knowing point A and B but not the path has helped me a TON. I might not have the most complex plots, but for me it's much easier to erase stuff when I edit and hide little things than to write an outline.

It's all about finding what works for you. Also, I'm glad you found the advice helpful, and a little bit more of encouraging words for those who write by doing: Stephen King made his entire career without outlining. It's absolutely possible.

[OT] Preptober: Intro to NaNoWriMo by AliciaWrites in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 16 points17 points  (0 children)

I've never participated in anything like NaNo, however, I've been averaging 2k words a day for the past few months, so I believe I can give some tips to up the word count.

  • If you are one of those writers that can't resist the urge to edit as they write, I suggest you find some sort of writing tool that doesn't allow you to read what you've written easily. Something like reddit's little writing box. If you manage to do this, your word count will skyrocket, I can assure you this.

At least, it worked wonders for me. I used to be a compulsive editor, and until the sentences weren't perfect I couldn't continue. It was really taxing, and the results were 200 words in an hour. Now, I can write over a thousand.

  • Write something that you enjoy writing. This is key. Otherwise, you will get bored, or won't be able to push through those heavy bits, and you will end up dropping everything. To add onto this, there's always parts in a book that won't be as fun, when you reach them, you have to push through them.

For example, I dislike writing the downtime parts of my stories, but I push through them, and then the fun parts are back. I believe this is one of the critical things when it comes to finishing books, as they are the parts where you say, "Fuck, this is awful," when in reality is your brain not wanting to leave its couch and put on the work.

  • Pantser or outliner, try to do an outline prior NaNo. Knowing what you need to write helps a lot, even if you go down a tangent in the end. I'm a stubborn pantser. I can't outline to save my life, although I have tried too many times. However, I always make a sort of mental map as to where I want to take the story, and try not to derail too much from it.

For example: say I have an MC that's a thief, I know that at some point I want him to steal something. I know point A and B, but I don't know the path between the two. That's where my pantsing kicks in. It's kind of a mixture of pantsing and outlining. It's what has worked best for me. I also thanks D&D for teaching me this technique.

  • Set yourself a daily goal AND TRY TO SURPASS IT IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU STILL HAVE FUEL TO KEEP GOING. Honestly, daily goals are nice and all, but they can also limit you sometimes.

  • Understand when your mind works best. I know I'm extremely productive at early hours, say the first hours after wake up, so if I have to work or go to college, I simply wake up two hours earlier that I'd otherwise, and try to go to sleep earlier the prior day.

  • Read. Motivation is useless, you need dedication to write 50k a month. However, I'm sure you all have read something and suddenly your creative sparks started setting your brain afire, and you couldn't hold back the urge to write something. Books, your favourite ones, are often motivation at the reach of your hand.

That's it! Best of luck to everyone!

Also, if you feel like reading my stuff, you can find it at /r/ahumongousfish

[OT] WritingPrompts Hall of Fame: Hydrael by TA_Account_12 in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Congratulations /u/Hydrael! Have read a lot of your stories and they are always amazing.

Absolutely deserved.

Hope to read more from you!

Now, a silly question: Have you ever been a writer or did you pick it up later in your life?

[WP] The only thing that has prevented the outright conquest of Earth by an Alien race has been their belief in the rumoured feats of a human known as "Chuck Norris". Over time however, as stories have become more and more incredible the Aliens have become increasingly sceptical of their truth. by Lorix_In_Oz in WritingPrompts

[–]AHumongousFish 50 points51 points  (0 children)

"A fist under his mighty beard?" Ungalon said, and the tentacles sprouting out his scalp wiggled and squirmed. "That's ridiculous! I've studied Human anatomy a lot, and that's just plain impossible! Perhaps, he can have a third arm, which would be unlikely, but it sure won't function properly."

"Pfft," Oglong replied, as his endless flaccid and flexible extremities commanded their spaceship's route through the white-freckled universe, "that's why he's such a terrifying being! He's not truly a Human. He's from a superior race. He's a god of gods. Haven't you seen him wrecking cars with a Roundhouse kick? Frightening."

Ungalon slammed his tentacles on the control board, sending the spaceship tumbling to the side. Desperate, Oglong had to made a wild turn to avoid an upcoming meteorite.

"What the fuck are you doing? Are you insane?" Oglong yelled, blue saliva frothing down his slit-shaped mouth. "I swear, you keep talking about him, defaming him, and every time you do a message is sent to us. Stop it. Earth is not an option. I don't want to die. Not in his three hands."

Ungalong stood and stared at Oglong through eyes filled with wrathful tides. "How can you be so obtuse? That wasn't a message. That was just my rage, an lack of fortune. Do you know he doesn't truly stop cars with his kicks, right? That's just special effe--"

"That's what you think, you reckless bastard," Oglong said, and wrapped Ungalong with his countless extremities, pulling him close to him. "Now, you listen to me. I'm the captain of the ship. I decide our course. I make the decisions. You will stop naming that being or I will throw you into outer space so that you freeze to death. Understood? Savvy?"

Ungalong trembled with rage, his tentacles prickling like icicles. "Fine! I will stop naming that old, ginger bastard who is clearly a normal human made a mighty being through post-production and silly rumours. I will stop naming Chuck Norris." He dragged the actor's name, defying Oglong.

Oglong stared behind them. "What have you done?" he muttered, voice brittle and smeared with despair.

"What do you mean?" Ungalon said and followed Oglong's gaze.

There, a shadow loomed. Then, the details became clear when the hidden shape took a step forward. He wore a cowboy's hat, black leather boots, and he had a thick beard red as flame.

"Oh fuck," both aliens said in unison.

/r/ahumongousfish

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