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"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
Here’s the thing.
I read a lot of scripts. A lot. From professionals to aspiring writers to complete newbies. Features and pilots. Specs and treatments.
And 8 times out of 10 the fan fic that I’ve read over the last, oh, 15 years is leagues better than this stuff. It’s more inspired. It’s more compelling. It’s genre bending and creative and heartfelt. It’s well-paced and intense and funny and sexy and meaningful. It’s smart and thoughtful and good. It’s novel-quality. Better than, sometimes.
Rare is the script I don’t want to put down, but how often have we stayed up until 3am to get to the last chapter of a 100k fic? And it’s not even a fan fic author’s day job. This is what they do on the side. In their spare time. For free.
So my point is, fan fic authors, you’re good. You’re good writers and great storytellers. I know it doesn’t always feel like it, especially if you’re one of the authors who’s not a BNF and doesn’t get the notes/hits that a few do. And because some people still view fic as “not real writing.” You guys know the shit that gets made into movies. You’re better than that. So be better than that. If writing is what you think want to do, then just know you’re already doing it. You’ve already started.
And you’re more talented than you might think.
To all of my writer friends. This is so fucking true. <3
Terra pulled a smile, though she knew there was a shred of real unhappiness in his statement. She wouldn’t pry, not with her luck and based on past experiences. When she tried to help someone it usually ended badly. “I dunno, nowhere, really. I was just kind of looking for you.” She laughed. “Guess I found ya, huh?” She shrugged, again letting her hands slide into her pockets. “Wanna hang out? There’s a new place by the park that sells really good iceceam.” She smiled, though quickly blushed and turned her head. “Unless you don’t wanna go… Then uh, some other time.”
— Yeah… That’d be nice — Beast Boy answered, trying to cheer himself up. Keep crying wouldn’t bring back his parents. That was not like him. He was a wonderful family now, and he should be happy to be with them. His parents were… no, are important to him, but living the present should be more important than mourn the past… Right?
— So… Shall we get going?
The old library was a sprawling complex of stone tiles and stone walls, fitted with tomes gathered from the Realms’ highs and lows. It was usually very silent, aside from the occasional muted sighs of pages being ardently turned, or the occasional booming slander of the avidly unlearned. Thor would be that unlearned, stubbornly uninitiated. When they had been younger Loki had to drag him along, kicking and screaming and spewing vile threats whenever their tutor would send them down there.
The iPhone shivered as her master ran their fingers over her touchscreen.
“P-please…” she said softly, her voice wavering. “I’m reaching my limit.”
Her master smiled. “You want me to plug you in, right?”
The iPhone’s battery icon had been sitting at red for a while now.
She gasped as her master ran their fingers along her lower edge.
“But don’t you think this is more fun?” They were enjoying the absolute power they held over the device.
“And I thought you enjoyed the feeling of being filled when you were at your emptiest.”
“How did y-you know that?” she stammered.
“…. I’ve read your notes. You really should invest in a secure diary app.”the fuck just happened
tumblr happened
WHAT THE ACTUAL MOTHER FUCKING FUCK WHAT
reblog because of the everything in above^^^^^^^
(via the-roxylalonde)
"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
"Basically the price of a night on the town!"
"I'd love to help kickstart continued development! And 0 EUR/month really does make fiscal sense too... maybe I'll even get a shirt?" (there will be limited edition shirts for two and other goodies for each supporter as soon as we sold the 200)