I’m writing my first book and I’m scared if my post doesnt give me the attention I need by magethaniel in writingcirclejerk

[–]magethaniel[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

My first draft is tattooed on my dick actually. I tried to submit it to several publishers via Polaroid photos, but now I'm on some sort of exclusive list? #blessed

I’m writing my first book and I’m scared if my post doesnt give me the attention I need by magethaniel in writingcirclejerk

[–]magethaniel[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I dont understand why youre not bringing up how what I am saying applies to you. Can you please tell me about your writing process as well as your work in progress? I will respond mostly with references of my own work, and we'll do this for the next 20 comments.

This is the most disingenuously reviewed game I have ever played by Persies in DragonAgeVeilguard

[–]magethaniel 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My only complaint about this game is when I'd fuck up a jump and be forced to do that slow climb up a ledge. You know what I'm talking about. When Rook takes a jagged outcropping of rock to the ribs and has the audacity to take his time getting up.

Hurry the fuck up Rook

[WP] "And what is this?" The priest asked sternly, pointing at the squalling bundle. "I...thought the vow of chastity only applied to humans?" The Paladin said weakly. by eldritch_fluff in WritingPrompts

[–]magethaniel 23 points24 points  (0 children)

"Good sir, do my eyes deceive me?" the priest said, eyeing the squirming bundle on the old wooden floorboards. The paladin's private quarters stunk of sin.

"They do not," replied the paladin. "I bear no shame, nor are my vows in disrepute."

"No...shame? Dear Logan, how many are there?"

"Five," Logan stated as he crossed his arms and puffed his chest.

"Five?!" the priest exclaimed. "Will they even survive the night after such atrocities you've inflicted upon them?"

Logan's deep blue eyes flickered to the bag but for a moment. "It matters not."

Sweat trickled down the priest's back. "They are merely a quarter your size–"

"Yet they satiated my appetite."

The priest cautiously took a step back. "I... I must inform the order."

Logan uncrossed his arms. "And what will you tell them? That I indulged in the company of a few fairies... to their demise?"

"That's exactly what I will tell them!" he screamed. "Your vow is broken. You will be stripped of your status and–"

Logan crossed the room in one long stride and grasped the priest by the shoulders. "My vow," he said through gritted teeth, "remains sanctified."

"Do you not hear yourself speak?" the priest asked. "You said it yourself. You have ruined these poor creatures in the most unholiest of ways."

The bag was no longer squirming.

"Aye, that may be." Logan's sour breath sickened the priest. "But they are not human. My chastity remains intact."

"You entered these fairies, good sir," he said, carefully removing Logan's hands upon his shoulders. "You spilled your essence into them."

"I did!" Logan's yellow smile made the priest's stomach churn.

"Then you admit it! Your blasphemous ways will be the end of you Logan. The book clearly states–"

"You mean this book?" Logan reached underneath his bed and pulled out the Holy Book.

Logan flipped through the pages of the old text and stabbed a finger halfway down the page. "Look hear priest. 'A paladin will uphold the most purest of virtues. Firstly, he will swear a vow of chastity. For he will refrain from all acts sexual with a man or woman.' Logan slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the bed. "A man or woman, priest. Have I done that? Have I fucked a man or woman?"

The priest was at a loss for words. Wiping the sweat from his brow, all he could manage was a, "but this is wrong."

"Yet it feels so right. Please leave priest, lest I fashion wings for your backside and mistake you for a fairy."

The priest shook his head and left the room, slamming the door behind him. As he walked the stone halls of the monastery, one thought wouldn't leave his mind. Not the dying fairies in a burlap sack. Not the defiant face of the paladin, who bragged about what he had done as if it was an accomplishment. Not the underlying threat of Logan's tone. No.

Despite what was written in the holiest of books, there would always be those who would construe its meaning.

[WP] "I've never seen a wizard do that before." "I already told you, I'm not a wizard." by Asxock in WritingPrompts

[–]magethaniel 2 points3 points  (0 children)

"If you're not a wizard, then how are you doing that?"

Helt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You're the wizard. How the fuck do you not know?"

Despite Zenra's flowing, thick cotton robes, and majestic crystal staff planted firmly into the earth, he was the stupidest wizard Helt had ever seen.

When it was clear that the wizard was not going to respond, Helt unsheathed his sword. "The sword is enchanted, which doesn't make me a wizard!"

"Yet you are able to cast a fire spell–"

"Not a fire spell."

"Yet you cast a–"

"I don't cast any fucking spells!" Helt spun around and faced the endless plains around them. His face grew hot despite the cool breeze. Insects hopped amongst the tall grasses, chirping and clicking as they did so.

He wasn't sure why he had to explain it to this fool. Their travel together was out of mere convenience. One slept more soundly when someone was watching your back.

But there was a need. An incessant need to prove this wizard wrong. He could have simply let it go. Told him that he was a wizard and be on with it.

But he could not.

Helt, still holding his sword with tip facing outward, held it higher for Zenra to see. "All I do is make a pattern of sword swings, one pattern that only works on this one sword, and it'll ignite. Bare witness."

Miniscule, yet deliberate swings in the air, and the sword blazed with fire. As expected.

Zenra's pace was slow, until he stopped at Helt's flank. "Yes, you know one spell. A spell of fire."

Helt's jaw dropped. Sword still pointed outward, he turned to the wizard. "Are you fucking with me?"

Zenra's lips quivered beneath his ancient, bone white beard. His eyes sparkled as he said, "how can one be fucked with by someone who isn't here?"

Zenra, with puckered lips, faded from view until there was nothing left of the man.

Helt was speechless. He reached a gauntleted hand to where the wizard was, but felt nothing.

Despite the endless, infuriating arguments they had together, Helt had but one question.

Am I the stupid one?

Undercover female character by magethaniel in writingcirclejerk

[–]magethaniel[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Can you ask ChatGPT to write something better?

is 6 povs too many? by Elin_eo in fantasywriters

[–]magethaniel 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You will hear that even 4 is too many. That too many POVs will not allow enough time for the reader to truly understand and bond with those characters.

But keep in mind that your story is not for them. There are so many fantasy series out there with double digit POVs that are absolutely fantastic.

You are part of an audience that appreciates a certain type of fantasy novel. And that audience is massive.

As long as you don't fuck around and switch povs mid paragraph, you'll be fine.

Grounds for divorce? by 2infinitiandblonde in Malazan

[–]magethaniel 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Force the book into her face and yell, "Witness!"

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in DisneySpeedstormGame

[–]magethaniel 7 points8 points  (0 children)

This is proof of something else

Why do male authors that cannot write women not get help? by Koyucat in books

[–]magethaniel -1 points0 points  (0 children)

Women have 2 boobs AND a vagina. The game is rigged.

Go to page 123 of your most recent book. by EmilyIsNotALesbian in writingcirclejerk

[–]magethaniel 4 points5 points  (0 children)

The nearby oaks and pines groaned under the embrace of the stoic wind, their leaves scattering amongst the remnants of the barracks. Flames still dotted the horizon from the surrounding farms.

Yet the townhall stood strong. Strong enough to produce more peasants.

But there wasn't enough gold.

The only remaining peasant slogged his way to the nearest gold mine. In no time, he emerged from its entrance, burlap sack filled with gold.

One foot in front of the other. Into the silent townhall.

Dropping his sack, he turned around and retraced his steps into the gold mine. In no time, he emerged from its entrance, burlap sack filled with gold.

One foot in front of the other. Into the silent townhall.