Writing And Poetry - Blog Posts

help i’m inching closer and closer towards cementing a plot point that’s been planned for sometime now and i’m *dreading* officially writing it so badly omg😭

but as it is written… it shall be done😪 (i’m already sobbing profusely)

insane to think there was a time in my life where my characters didn’t reside in my head 24/7

the concept of one of my characters being this super smart intuitive guy who can read a room/person with the snap of a finger, but couldn’t figure out the love of his life was keeping a scandalous secret from him is soooo😭

just had a #writerscare thinking i astronomically fucked up a crucial part of a storyline in my book series…😁

one of the hardest parts of writing interconnected stories tbh lol the stress of everything having to perfectly align as to avoid even the tiniest plot hole is a lot

thankfully, i figured it out and saved myself from the impending meltdown!

that moment when everything just clicks in your writing or in a scene you’re putting together or an unexpected last minute idea pops into your mind that ends up fitting perfectly with what you wrote >>>>

the excitement that consumes my body is out of this world

does it take anyone else a good minute to get immersed into their fictional world before you can start writing for the day?

like i need to sit in front of my computer with nothing but tumbleweed passing in my brain for at least an hour before i can really lock in.

especially after a solid writing break. i need to re-read the most recent scene i’ve written at least ten times to bring myself back into the character’s mind and feelings

about a quarter through writing the first draft for the third book in my series!

it’s been my fav book to write so far because of all the storylines i have planned, but it’s also been the most complicated to write for the same reason😭

there’s just so much that has to happen — between the main storyline *and* the side plot that it’s literally making my brain feel like this: 🫠

it’s so fun yet so stressful at the same time but hey i love writing!!!!!!😁

it’s the anniversary of two of my characters today yall🥹 february 7th❤️🧁💜🌙

(yes i’m acknowledging and wishing them a happy anniversary, no that doesn’t make me clinically insane)

happy anniversary logan and rachel, mama (me) loves you and your beautiful love story❤️❤️❤️ u definitely have not been one of my fav couples to write bc that would be so rude of me to admit!!!

do you think your characters would be friends with you irl? honestly, i don’t think mine would be friends with me😭

only because they’ve all been friends since kindergarten — they’re a solid friend group of eight. very found family. they all prefer sticking to their circle and secretly (jokingly) get jealous whenever one of them tries to befriend someone outside the group. (it’s called friendship cheating)

which is fine because i’d totally be too scared to even try and befriend any of them anyway😭 when your own characters are too cool for you

yall one of my characters has the saddest lore, i hate it sm i just wanna hug him😭😭😭 (me acting like i didn’t give him the sad lore in question)

GIRL

When I was sixteen, studying for an exam in the school library, I met a girl.

Not any old girl.

It was obvious that she wanted to be a man but it was obvious that she was not quite ready to admit it and she clung to her female pronouns the same way a fictional knight clung to his pig-iron shield against the fiery breath of a dragon.

This was a girl who had seen life in ways, with certain hardships, I could never imagine.

A girl with brown mousy hair that was hastily chopped to her chin and above her pastily white bare shoulders as if she had cut it with a pair of garden shears, dark eyes reminded me of the mud that dripped off the bumper of the right side of my mum's car from when she drove through the murky countryside visit to my grandma's house, wrinkled lips that were pulled so far back by her tight skin that I could see where her cheekbones arched and how much her sallow cheeks had been sucked in as if there was a vacuum residing under her skin.

I had never met anyone quite like her before.

There was a dwindling fire in her brown eyes, lined by sore red scratches where it was obvious she had itched away the hay fever that made her heavily pierced nose sweat and run with snot.

I was tired that day. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sit through the exam without my head drooping towards the table like a weeping willow and my eyes dying to slip shut.

She could tell that I was struggling, so she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me awake.

Mind, I'm perfectly sure she was sober.

I was worried that I was going to fail the exam and that my mother would punish me if I didn't do well. This girl wasn't buying an ounce of my unnecessary panic.

She looked deep into my soul and whispered, slurring her words like a drunk man, "There's no room in life for other people's bullshit."

Such crude words of wisdom from such a wise young person.

After all, it was those very same crude words that changed my life and gave me the courage to take the reins of my own life.

Girl, if you’re out there, and you recognise yourself within my words, thanks for being a tough bitch and giving me the harsh truth.

BEE KINGSLEY