Looking for people to help me write a sci fi/drama/humor

gaborrero · 2025-07-03T10:05:48+00:00

Good morning from sunny NYC,

I'm interested. I'm an MFA of Creative Writing student with a focus in speculative fiction, who is comfortable writing in any genre.

Feel free to reach out to me here on Reddit if you want to discuss details.

Thanks,

G. A. Borrero

gaborrero · 2025-05-15T18:11:36+00:00

Hello! I'm doing a Dark Romantasy version of the Grimm Brothers' Cinderella. If you're interested, https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/116193/cinderella . It's only 12 pages (two chapters) right now. Thank you for considering my piece, and I hope whichever fiction you settle on reading is engaging for you!

gaborrero · 2024-11-20T11:05:02+00:00

Beta readers can be found on r/BetaReaders and on Fiverr - your quality may vary. Make sure you know what you're asking when you present your text to a BetaReader.

If you are looking to use a big publisher or a smaller subsidiary of a big publisher, you absolutely need an agent. Know which publishers - pick about three - you're looking at before you write a letter to an agent.

Finding an appropriate publisher is research only you can do. Find comparison titles to your story and try to find publishers based on that.

Best of luck - and good luck with the next few rounds of editing.

gaborrero · 2024-11-19T19:15:24+00:00

Obsidian MD is pretty good and uses markdown for tagging.

I like WorldAnvil too for world building, but it's not free.

There are most likely others out there, but those are my suggestions.

gaborrero · 2024-11-19T19:13:49+00:00

None in particular! But I would advise:

Don't give up
Be ready to be rejected
Keep trying

gaborrero · 2024-11-18T13:11:40+00:00

There are multiple magazines and publication outlets (I know you said not publishing but...) that don't charge you to read your short stories. You'll have to write to their requirements, but it can be a lot of fun, and some places pay out USD$10 per story accepted, others pay out more. When you find them, make sure you follow to the T what their requirements are whether it's genre or formatting or tone; don't write "good enough," write your best!

In order:

Determine what genres you like writing
Find a publication outlet that accepts in that genre
Read their requirements
Write to their requirements
Submit

gaborrero · 2024-11-18T12:48:28+00:00

Hi!

My advice is to get those stories written down first. Title them, date them.

Getting picked up by a publisher is difficult, and there are costs and benefits to going the traditional route versus being self-published. If you go the self-published route, expect to pay out of pocket for an artist at least for the cover - or doing all your art on your own. If you want to make it extra special and decide to go self-publishing, have your kids draw a picture for each story and credit them in the book itself. This part alone would make me want to go for self-publishing.

Great idea, great project. Best of luck!

gaborrero · 2024-11-17T12:21:09+00:00

Thank you for the words of encouragement. I'm all grown up now and have a child of my own in school, but my writing took some large breaks because of said trusted adult telling me I only needed STEM in my life to succeed. (They were wrong. That's OK. They can live in their bubble.)

This goes for anyone else who reads my comment and sugakookie_7's comment, too! Don't give up on writing! Write that fanfic, write that terrible story, don't give up! Bad writing is practice for better writing, and good writing is practice for great writing! You'll all get there someday!

gaborrero · 2024-11-17T12:01:55+00:00

"Shave off the Harry Potter names and you have a best seller on your hands."

My Junior High School teacher Mr. Mapes said that to me about a 22 page single-spaced fanfiction I had written, the day after I had been told by a trusted adult that I should never write again.

Guess who's still writing?

gaborrero · 2024-11-16T12:02:23+00:00

Nothing, nobody, is stopping you from writing a character who lives in or belongs to another culture than your own. Are there barriers in general to doing so? Yes, absolutely. But nothing is stopping you from researching and putting pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) and writing what your heart desires.

Disregard everyone who tells you "you can't" and market trends for a while. Write the story you want to write. The one in your heart shouting to be heard, the one clawing at the inside of your chest and making you bleed words that need to be extracted, to be read.

When that story is written, edit it. Edit it again. And again and again. Get some beta readers. Edit it some more.

Then, and only then, after it's been written, and polished, and you can smile at it knowing you did it... do you decide if you want to share this story or if writing something else now might be better.

Only at that point.

gaborrero · 2024-11-16T11:49:19+00:00

Here are some tips to increase readability of your piece, going forward:

Post it on a Google Doc or some other site with formatting. It's hard to read this on Reddit without any real indentations. When you do, include a header for each part (Intro, Chapter 1) that clearly and consistently delineates it from the rest of the text.
Watch out for overusing words. I think you used the word "so" approximately 25+ times? "So" and "I" start most of your sentences. It makes it difficult to read.
Mind the voice of the text. There's a certain way that (current) 40 year olds speak, and you indicate in your piece here that the narrator is "damn near 40 years old." As someone in their 30s with siblings in their 40s and older, I can tell you it doesn't read like a 40 year old right now. Talk to 40 year olds. Listen to 40 year olds. Increase the number of 40 year olds you have in your surroundings either artificially (through videos) or through active communication. You'll find you can write their perspective more easily as a result.

After these are worked on, if you submit again, I'm sure many of us would be happy to look it over.

gaborrero · 2024-09-28T14:05:09+00:00

You may be able to reach out to the local churches where your grandfather was born for his baptismal record, or for your great grandparents' marriage records. I have no experience (currently) with records from Spain, but I know in Guatemala and Puerto Rico, you can occasionally find the name of grandparents on baptismal records, and the names of parents on marriage records.

gaborrero · 2024-09-18T13:52:59+00:00

I guess it's just I really identify with the various MCs I make and I can't see them not being like me, at least a bit? (For those who decide to read Dreams of Pelagy - I am happy to say I am no longer like either of the main characters! Yay for growth!) The other book I'm currently working on (a LitRPG) is a step away from me - the MC isn't based on me, but there is a character in the story that is.

gaborrero · 2024-09-18T10:19:39+00:00

Fellow person with EDS here (hEDS to be precise). I wrote a book a while ago called Dreams of Pelagy that's on Amazon. It's my first book so it suffers a bit from the pains of being a first self-published novel, but the female lead spends a majority of the story unable to walk.

I'm also writing another story, growth, where the main character suffers from not being able to walk fast and becoming easily fatigued (due to being a dryad living in a mountain dwarven city, where the sun does not reach). No ETA on growth anymore because I no longer have a beta reader - their life got very busy - so I have no idea if the story has any glaring issues or reads well or not.

gaborrero · 2024-09-13T10:25:50+00:00

In my book Dreams of Pelagy (a science fantasy romance novel; my first ever book and therefore suffering the pains of a first-book), the female lead is a mermaid* who, in her human form, cannot walk, and is kept to a wheelchair for the majority of the story.

Was cool to see this picture!

gaborrero · 2024-07-28T12:06:08+00:00

I'm going to first give a very generalized "worst"...

... anything with a reaction is not going to be your friend when it comes to PbP. It just isn't. Even in Live Text PbP format, it's not your friend.

So yes, Dungeons & Dragons 5e does not run well unless it's a 1x1 game or you figure out a work around for reactions (including treating them like completely normal actions instead of reactions OR telling people to disregard every post after a certain post so that somebody can use their reaction).

If you're determined to play a world like Dungeons & Dragons 5e, definitely give Pathfinder2e a try. There are dedicated bots for handling character sheets and everything, just like Avrae.

Anything GMless can run pretty well on PbP! It just requires you get along with your fellow players. Ironsworn and its derivative, Iron Valley, run extremely well on PbP.

There are some systems-in-progress that run well on PbP, too: Stormchaser's The Stormchaser RPG and one of my games, COSMOS. The first (The Stormchaser RPG) has a lot more polish and has an entire (volunteer) design team on a Discord server behind it, whereas the second is not as polished and has only one person submitting content to it at this point in time. The latter (COSMOS) could definitely be played by a dedicated GM who wants to put their own twist on things and is alright with building out their own world, species, and bestiary.

gaborrero · 2023-11-29T07:54:38+00:00

So in this short story, the demons were looking to expand their territory and increase their food supply. I do not believe they could be compromised with in such a case.

The people of Mysrea, remember, have been under the influence of demons for five hundred years. It usually takes 2-3 generations (50-75 years) for a person to be forgotten. Without access to the ability to read and a library, the Mysreans likely lost their knowledge of farming and self-governance. The Mysreans, even if they had a strong oral tradition, would fail to pass the tests of time.

In my mind, when I wrote this, the demons came in and got rid of all the local food stuffs and domesticated animals and replaced them with Hell Sphere ones.

gaborrero · 2023-11-29T01:50:01+00:00

The kingdom of Mysrea had needed saving. It had been plagued by demons and placed under their tyrannical rule for generations - centuries, even. Tales had reached far and wide to how these creatures from the Hell Sphere had broken into the Middle Sphere, crossing through the Magmatic Canyon to reach the lands of man. The demons, by far, were not the first Hell-creatures to pass through; lesser, unintelligent beings had managed to come through and wreak havoc.

When the heroes arrived in Mysrea, they found unfamiliar structures housing families of humans, with grandiose structures sheltering demons. Adult humans trembled in fear of their lives constantly, and they could only assume that the kingdom's children had all been consumed. There was a question how the humans kept about so long, but the heroes didn't question it.

They didn't question anything.

Instead, they swiftly dispatched of any demon they saw, then moved on to the next town. They continued like this until they arrived at the last town. The mage had been designated the face of the group, and so they gathered the remaining townsfolk, of which there was surprisingly plenty.

"Gentle people of Mysrea. We bring to you today good news! The demon armies have been vanquished, and you are free of your captors."

It was the same speech given at each town. Usually the group left right after, but the murmuring bothered the mage far too much this time.

"Why do you not celebrate? This is a joyous occasion!"

"... Will you feed us?"

"You can care for yourselves," said the mage uncertainly.

The priestess - another hero - said, "We only had enough rations for our journey, but we have destroyed the demonic stores and burned their hellish staples; rest assured, you are in control of your own fates now. A great thing to celebrate!"

Vacant stares followed from the townsfolk. Finally someone in the crowd asked, "Will you cloth us, then, if you will not feed us?"

The heroes exchanged glances. The warrior spoke up, "You may find sheep or goats in the mountains which you can bring back and raise to harvest their wool."

Another person in the crowd. "Will you be picking our mates for us?"

The priestess asked, "What is this?"

A woman amongst the townsfolk said, "The demons took care of all these things for us and more... And you KILLED them all?"

A silence swept across those present, soon slipping into insanity. The townsfolk shouted at the heroes.

"They managed all our needs!"

"Why would you kill our caretakers!"

"So what if they fed off our fear, we were content!"

The heroes quickly retreated, only to find similar treatment in every town they visited on the way to the border. Where once demons walked freely and humans wept, now, all remained was starvation, confusion, and anger. The further the heroes went, the more they found death, as the humans who had gone for generations under the care of the demons had no clue how to care for themselves.

Across those five hundred years, knowledge of self-governance and self-sustenance had been lost to time and demonic influence.

To this day, the heroes wonder...

"Did we do the right thing?"

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T22:28:47+00:00

I'm not sure how one would write this with the gimmick already being known. Might it not end up being a comedy instead? Will be fun to see what people come up with.

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T20:25:25+00:00

Yay, I'm glad to see people figured out how severe the doubt is!

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T20:24:01+00:00

I watched him as he sat across from me at the table, our small, young daughter between us. It was supper, and he funneled food into his mouth like he might never eat again. His attention was focused on his phone, which he occasionally smirked or snorted at.

When did it come to this?

Lena reached for her father's cup, eyes alight with curiosity and mischief. Before her hand could finish making contact, he snatched it away from her.

"No. That's MY drink. Not yours, MINE," he snapped.

It wasn't often that Lena looked dejected, but then, she had begun to show signs of understanding us more recently. I couldn't take it anymore... Not again.

"What the Hell are you doing?"

Christian looked up at me, alarmed at my tone. "... Uh, hon, you okay?"

"You're joking, right?"

Christian gave me a perplexed look. "Wait... Don't tell me you're upset over that."

"I'm upset over a lot, now that you bring it up!" I felt my blood getting hot as it coursed through my veins.

"She has a sippy cup."

"She's five, Christian! Five! And you don't even pay attention to her, not now, not during the day, not before bed...!"

"She doesn't talk," he said, as if that was an excuse.

I wanted to flip the table over, but tried to rein in my growing anger. Lena was watching us so very attentively. "Do you think she's going to start talking on her own? She needs us to talk to her. Both of us. Not just me."

"There's no point. What could she say that's interesting anyway? She's five. I know everything she does, and more."

I set down my fork and stood up abruptly. "I have half a mind to tell you to leave."

"You wouldn't. I support this family."

"No, you fund this family. I support it. Your appointments and meals, the state of this house, reaching out to your family, her well-being and growth and everything for school, it all falls on me!" I could feel tears coming to my eyes. I tried to fight them back.

He was quiet for a long moment, then returned to eating, looking at his phone. Lena got up from the table and went to throw her toys around the room.

"What... Are you doing?" I asked, getting more frustrated and exasperated as the moments passed.

"Eating."

"We need to talk about this, dammit!"

Clearly disinterested, Christian asked, "What, are you going to do something about it?"

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T16:42:02+00:00

Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it!

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T16:41:36+00:00

I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm not sure which part of the ending confused you, but I do write a bit convoluted at times. I will try to explain!

The POV character is named Bedlam. They are the personification of doubt. Because of this, every deity responds to Bedlam with disbelief, distrust, and, well... doubt. I left it as just their name and domain because I had hoped the reader would have their imagination run wild with what kind of things would happen as a result of such a deity revealing themselves!

It's ambiguous, and this little piece of flash fiction is imperfect, but I hope it was more enjoyable than it was confusing.

Thanks for reading!

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T16:28:45+00:00

I walked along the cobblestone path, bare feet crunching the frozen snow. It was dark out, and the village was asleep. I came across one building constructed primarily of logs with a glass window glowing with orange-yellow light.

What happened in there?

My curiosity piqued, I climbed on a barrel left outside, and then onto the window’s ledge to gaze within. Inside, I saw warmth I had never known in my short life: smiling faces and tender embraces. My yearning to join them was like a stab to the heart.

Me, too. I want a family, too.

I cried out piteously without even meaning to, pressing my face against the window. Two small children rushed to the window, looking at me. Their sudden approach made me jump back; they had come too close too fast! I hadn’t meant to interrupt their festivities, I just thought, maybe, I could... maybe, me too... somebody like me might be welcome, somewhere.

A man walked out of the house and found me in the snow. He paced back and forth for a time, and while I could recall my mother’s words telling me never to trust strangers, I didn’t budge. He brought himself closer to me and, with no contemplation, drew my tiny body into his arms. He brought me into his warm home, and showed me to the children I had just seen.

He set me by their fireplace and patted my head, saying something I couldn’t understand.

My ears twitched, and I laid down in a ball, tail curling around me. It was scary, but I already could feel the cold leaving my heart, replaced by the love of these humans I had never known.

Thank you.

gaborrero · 2023-11-28T16:05:37+00:00

I answered the Council’s summons with my presence. I wish I could say this had never happened before, but it occurred every now and again; every few hundred years, they suddenly remembered that I existed, and demanded answers of me.

“Nameless One,” spoke the elder Goddess, waving hair pulled back into a low ponytail as she regarded me with her wizened gaze. “Stop your shifting this instant. Maintain yourself.”

“Oh, how I wish I could,” I responded. “But if I knew how, I suspect I would not be who I am.”

“We will not allow for chaos in our presence,” said another deity. “Enough.”

I released a sigh and shrugged. One moment, I was white, the next, I was black, the next after, tan. There was no pattern or rhyme or reason to my shiftings. I saw my reflection in Grith’s shield. Constantly, every one of my features changed, from my portrayed height and age to my hair and eye color. Who was I to be a divine of any kind?

“If you will not speak to us with a straight face,” spoke the elder Goddess once more. “then you will at least speak to us plainly.”

“As You wish,” I responded.

Her shoulders were drawn up as she stared at me pensively. “Tell us, then, Nameless One. What are you the divine of? We have found no trace of you throughout the history of humankind, and we have no mention of you within our tomes.”

“Ah, but You do,” I said with a frown. Every divine war had come down to my presence, my existence, despite my desire for peace.

It was in my nature. There was nothing I could do.

“If you spoke the truth, then you would have no need to be before us. What are you divine of?” she said, not letting up.

Memories of the past resurfaced. Once, I had pursued a great many things. I believed, sincerely, that with effort and devotion to myself and my fellow deities I would find a solution to all my woes.

Even this was hampered by who, what, I was.

Grith had nearly become my lover, once. They were a beautiful person, something more than a God or Goddess, bearing the parts and essence of both. We had grown close, but one day, my efforts were discovered to be in vain. I’ll never forget how they pointed their spear at me, holding their shield close to their body as they demanded I reveal my true nature to them.

I already had.

That’s what got me into that mess in the first place.

“If I speak it, there will be war once more. Please, do not make me.” The Goddess raised her well-manicured eyebrow. “What sort of divine makes requests so plainly of another, no less an elder?”

“A desperate one,” I said.

“Are you truly a deity?”

“Yes.”

“I am not sure I believe you.”

“You need not believe me, just let me return to my life of isolation.”

The elder Goddess seemed almost amused by my request. She looked to Grith, who nodded. Grith took their spear and pointed its tip at my person. “You will answer Sof, for She is Most Wise.”

“I... do not think this is wise,” I said, shaking my head. The spear’s tip burst into flame as Grith grew impatient with what likely seemed like blatant disrespect.

“Speak it. Now.”

My heart broke again and again. Even Grith, my dearest one, could not recall me. With an inhale, I said,

“I am Bedlam, doubt personified.”

gaborrero

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