r/writers

Ive always wanted to write a book. I've been working on one now that I actually like and I feel like I've gotten my groove. It needs a lot more work but eventually when its somewhat ready I'd like to take it to a creative writing class or something to see how far I can take it.

The only thing is I guess all writers get some nerves. But what do I do if I put all this time into it and it's actually just terrible?

I’m crying. 😭 😭

Seeing a mix of opinions on this, and wondering what writers think. The writer wrote the story and made the typo. The editor's job is to help scrub for and fix errors. Most books have typos every few thousands words which is expected, so is it acceptable to shrug and carry on?

pls msg me and I'll share it with you

I have introduced the main character and his goal but not the main plot but it’s a very content heavy chapter by the rest of the books standards is this a bad thing that will turn readers off or should i trust that it’s fine because this is a rewrite towards my final draft?

This is something I've been thinking about and can't come to a decision on, so I wanted to ask here

The setting is 'historical' low fantasy with anthropomorphic animals, the location the story takes place is very heavily based on the British isles in terms of culture and linguistics. Generally the people there don't have a god, simply spirits or ancestors

Our main character is from a far off land, The many Isles of the Emerald Sea (The Emerald Isles), which I am basing on ancient Greece. She worships the Hellenic pantheon and references a number of myths as a way of sharing her culture and making the people comfortable with her being there.

I have been using the Greek god names so far (our MC is a Huntress of Artemis) but I was wondering if I should change them and if keeping the real names would detract from the fantasy aspect.

(callous means emotionally hardened, unsympathetic, and insensitive to the suffering of others)

I have been a writer almost my entire life. Struggling with writer's block for the past few months. Back when I was younger, I had hours a day to spend sitting down, getting everything "right" before I even started to get words onto the page. I get distracted easily, my desk is too messy, I think of 48 different things I have to do, or the music I always listen to while writing suddenly feels all-consuming.

It takes me two hours to even get started putting words down, which wasn't an issue back in the day, but nowadays I don't have the time for that anymore, and so I barely write at all. Does anyone have any tips on how to get started more easily? How do you do it?

My professor suggested starting with five minutes of freewriting before going to the actual drafts, but sadly that doesn't work for me.

CHAPTER 2:

AARON SOLILOQUY

June 24, 2023.

At first, it was a completely normal day for our family.

But for us…

It was the day everything fell apart.

At that time, I was in the second year of middle school, and my big sister had just started high school.

That day also happened to be the final match of my interschool football tournament.

My family was very excited. Why wouldn’t they be? I was not only part of the team; I was also the captain.

Our morning started just like any other day.

We all sat together for breakfast, and everyone wished me good luck for the match.

Even though I was happy, I didn’t really show it outwardly.

It wasn’t that I didn’t feel emotions—I just wasn’t good at expressing them. It was one of my weaknesses.

After breakfast, as I reached the door to leave, I heard my father's voice behind me.
“Aaron, go and win this final. After that, we’ll celebrate your victory together.”
Beside him, my mother smiled warmly, as if she meant the same thing.
My sister walked up to me, hugged me, and said, “I believe in you, little brother. Go and achieve this.” After hearing those words and receiving that hug from my sister, I gave them a small smile before leaving for the match.
“Yeah… we’ll do that, it’s a promise,” I said.
If I recall correctly, that smile truly came from my heart.

My parents were both successful businesspeople. They were quite wealthy, and their work kept them busy most of the time. But even so, they always made sure to spend time with my sister and me.

In short… we were a happy family.

When I arrived at the stadium, the place was already packed with people. The crowd was loud and energetic, cheering for their teams.

Both teams eventually walked onto the field, and after a few minutes, the match began.

From the field, I quickly spotted my parents, my sister, and my three childhood friends sitting in the stands, cheering loudly for our team.

The first half ended with us leading 2–0, and I had scored both goals.

Inside, I felt happy.

But as usual, my face remained completely neutral.

No smile. No excitement.

Just a calm expression.

Because we were leading, everyone believed we would win the tournament easily.

But that day—

Fate had something completely different in store.

Especially—

As the second half began, everything started going wrong.

Our team lost its rhythm. We made mistake after mistake. Our coordination fell apart.

Compared to the first half, we looked like a completely different team.

By the time the final whistle blew…

The score had changed to 2-4.

We had lost.

I still remember the scene after the match ended.

Many of my teammates were crying. Some were sitting on the field in disbelief.

But I simply stood there.

Like a mannequin.

My face showed no emotion at all.

But that didn’t mean I felt nothing.

Inside, I was deeply hurt.

After the match ended, the crowd slowly began leaving the stadium.

My parents had already left earlier.

A little while later, my sister and my friends came over to me.

They tried to comfort me.

They told me that I had played well. I had done my best, and that winning and losing were both part of the game.

And honestly…

They were right.

Eventually, I accepted the loss.

Before leaving, my sister told me she had somewhere to go and asked me to make sure I returned home before six in the evening.

After that, my friends suggested we go to a café together.

It was their way of cheering me up after the match.

I didn’t mind the idea.

In fact, I was starting to feel a little better.

But just as we were about to reach the café…

My phone rang.

It was my sister.

When I answered the call, I heard her voice.

“Little brother, come to ward ‘104’ at the city hospital right now.”

At first, I was confused.

But something in her voice felt strange.

Heavy—

Serious—

It didn’t sound like a joke.

So, I didn’t ask any questions.

Together with my friends, I immediately headed to the hospital.

As we walked to the hospital, time felt strange. On top of that, I noticed a black cat cross our path. I didn’t believe in superstitions—I knew that—but somehow my whole body started sweating, and there was an itch in my palm that wouldn’t go. I didn’t know what was happening anymore. After 25 minutes, which felt like an eternity, we finally arrived at the city hospital.

But as we got closer to the hospital, my heart began beating faster and faster.

A strange feeling filled my chest.

When we finally arrived, the atmosphere felt strangely numb and cold.

It smelled like any hospital. Everyone—patients, doctors, nurses—seemed to be doing their jobs. But when I met someone’s gaze, even for a second, I saw pity in their eyes. I didn’t understand, so I looked away.

But I think—still—I could feel their eyes on me.
As we approached the cabin where my sister was supposed to be waiting, a faint sound reached my ears.
Someone was crying.

I tried to convince myself.
No… it can’t be. My sister can’t be crying like that… can she?
It’s just my imagination… nothing more.

But somewhere deep inside my heart, I knew the words I was telling myself were hollow.
They were nothing more than a desperate lie.

As we reached ward ‘104’, I didn’t peek through the transparent

glass first. I took a long sigh, and when my hands reached the door

knob, they shook a little and were sweaty too. Then, my eyes on the floor, I opened the door rather slowly.

 

As the door finally opened, my gaze stayed on the floor —

But I heard it. A small sob. Ryan’s. which he tried to hold back.

Then —a thud behind me — Ethan had fallen, clutching the chair tightly. His tears hit the floor —I could hear each one —but he was

Holding back the sobs. My chest caved in.

The lie I’d been telling myself? It shattered at that moment.

But my brain —it wouldn’t let me accept it.

Then I finally looked up —with numbness in my heart —

I saw—

My sister was clinging to two bodies, which were covered with a white Blanket. Blood soaked through it.

And there I saw Dad’s hand. The ring still on his left. Skin pale—cold.

I could tell—without touching.

And Mom’s right hand—limp—lifeless.

And it was the first time I saw her hands so loose.

My hand slipped from the knob.

She looked so small, face buried —eyes swollen red.

And I—

Couldn’t breathe.

The air just… stopped.

  That room— suddenly, it wasn’t just cold—it felt alive with some absence.

  Our parents— they are—dead. Any hope I thought could be there, but after seeing them like that, it completely disappeared.

Without realising it, my hands curled into fists.

Then, as I was not able to move or go near her, I felt…

Someone hugged me from behind. It was Lucas, my friend.

Then I finally came back to the cruel reality. In that moment, the only thing I could feel was regret—the only emotion I could name.

Regret that I will never see them again.

Regret that we will never speak to each other again.

Regret that I would never get to call out—‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ ever again.

Regret that our promise of celebrating the win… together would never be fulfilled again, my sister and I. We are left alone.

They were gone—

Forever, because of a car accident.

But I was not able to move from the spot. I wanted to run.

Towards my sister and—confront her.

There was a storm of words raging inside me — things

I wanted to say, wanted to scream — but my feet stayed frozen.

One step. That’s all it would have taken. But I felt hopeless.

I couldn’t move.

When my sister finally noticed me standing there, frozen in place, she slowly stood up and walked toward me.

Then she— hugged me.

As tightly as she possibly could.

That hug felt desperate.

As if she was saying—

"I don’t want to lose you, too." That was what her embrace told me.

I couldn’t bring myself to look into her eyes or wipe away her tears.
But… gathering my courage, I slowly looked at her and said,

“Sis… I know I don’t really have the right to say this. It’s natural to cry, and I won’t stop you.” Then, while wiping her tears, I added,
“I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

The words I said were meant to reassure her.
After hearing them, she hugged me again and said,

“Yeah… and I’ll be there for you, too, little brother. No matter what happens, I’ll support you in every way I can.”

We had already lost our parents.

My friends tried their best to calm my sister down.

And me as well.

But at that moment…

Something inside my heart quietly closed.

A void.

Before that day, I could still feel my emotions.

But after that moment, it felt like those emotions had disappeared. I asked myself only one question: why?

Why was I feeling like this?
Shouldn’t a tragedy like this make my emotions come out even more?
Then wh—why did it feel like everything inside me had closed off?

When I received no answer from my own conscience, I gave up and accepted what I had become.
Something I had never wanted to become.

I once believed this would never happen—that my second personality would become my reality now.
But reality doesn’t follow a person’s wishes, does it now?

After all, we are only mortals.

We can control the things that can be controlled, and I tried to.

But in the end, I failed, so I simply learned to accept the way I had become.

I accepted the personality and the traits I once hated—
the ones I never wished to possess.

Because in real life, you can’t simply control such things.
Even if you try—

You will fail. As time passed, I noticed something strange about myself.

I didn’t really feel emotions anymore.

Instead…

I realised I was simply mimicking the emotions of others, rather than truly feeling them myself.

Smiling when people smiled.

Reacting the way people normally would in certain situations.

But none of it truly came from inside.

After that day, one question kept repeating in my mind.

What’s the point of getting close to someone— when you know they will eventually leave you behind? Due to any reason.

I know there are many answers to that question.

But for me—

It felt like I would never find the answer—

Three years have passed since that day.

Now I’m about to start my second year of high school, and my sister will soon begin her college.

But no matter how much time passes—

I still remember that day clearly.

Every single year—

Whenever a new school term is about to begin…

That memory returns. But still, maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all. Because there are some memories in life—that we shouldn’t forget—right?

 

---------------

Well it's the end of this chapter, i know it is quite a long chapter for a SOLILOQUY but i hope you could tell your honest feedback, and to be specific it's just my first draft for this chapter though!

They say that the hardest part of starting a story is the beginning… and for me that is definitely true.

I used to struggle with the first scene because everything I would write felt somehow fake.

But I recently wrote an 80k fantasy romance novel and love my opening chapter.

What inspired me you may ask?

Crazy story: I was on a 5k run around a lake. It had metal barriers around it and the sky was stormy, the water reflecting me whilst looking like melted iron. I was speeding, listening to Panic at the Disco, and feeling great… then I saw a pigeon.

I went to run around the pigeon and instead it flew straight into me. I ended up tripping and falling flat on my face. Eating the concrete, my two front teeth broken in half, crying and calling my dad to come pick me up.

This led me to a couple of days of wallowing in self pity, eating ice cream and looking at my new fake teeth a lot. But it also made me slow down enough that I picked up my laptop and started writing my book.

So now the beginning of my book is of a character sat by that very same lake, looking out on the water and pitying herself (with an added beautiful man popping up out of the water).

So, the end of my teeth became the beginning of my book. Silver linings, huh?

How did you all start your books?

P.s. no pigeons were injured in the making of my book.

does anyone else love them (and writing them) as much as i do? like, they could be doing the most heinous shit imaginable, and all because someone they hate stole two dollars from them or something.

one good example is (ace attorney 4 spoilers) >!kristoph gavin. he's a successful lawyer. he also killed someone and ruined a lawyer's life because that man picked that lawyer to represent him instead of kristoph. that's literally all there really is to it. he's extremely full of himself!<.

there's a villain i'm working on who's like that. he's a self-proclaimed alpha male who believes that women are hypergamous. he's like that because of a horoscope that came true one day, convincing him he's above everyone. from there on, he gets deep, and i mean DEEP into redpill nonsense. once he hears about gemstones that could grant untold power, he seeks to find them so he can prove his alphaness to every 'beta' on the planet. he goes on to do things so horrifying i'm hardly comfortable sharing them.

that's where his motivation ends. yeah. it's seriously that stupid and that's the point. he's a shallow piece of shit.

i wonder if anyone else likes to write these kinds of villains. to me, they're kind of frightening, because it highlights just how easy it is to do bad things. just one minor inconvenience can make some people murder a family. do you have a villain who's like that?

Hello. I'm making this post to see if the idea for my book seems interesting or not. English is not my first language, so bear with me.

At first glance, the story might seem basic: a medieval fantasy world ruled by a Church, with a teenage protagonist who blindly believes in the system and their leaders, who joins an academy to become X (For the sake of naming, I'll call it "Warriors"), where she make new friends who broaden her horizons. The reader will see clear examples that the society, the system, has major flaws, and as one might expect from this type of story, they'll expect for the secondary characters and the protagonist to gradually discover them, ultimately fighting against the system they once wanted to join. But no: in my story, the protagonist ends up choosing the system over her friends, thinking that she's doing the correct thing, but basically sacrificing them; since 16 years of indoctrination don't just disappear in a couple of months.

The tragedy lies in the fact that, after finally becoming a Warrior, she only then realizes the flaws in the system, the horrific injustices, and, above all, the truth of her world. Ultimately, it's a story about guilt, about imposter syndrome, and about how one should never blindly follow any type of leader or system, especially if to them you are nothing more than another citizen.

There are, of course, more details to add, but I just wanted to know if the basic idea is any good or not!

hi! i'm looking to practise my writing skills again after a brief hiatus, however, my creativity is severly lacking. because of this, i ask for any (short or long) ideas that you would like to see written as a scene or a couple of scenes.

i'm open to anything, as long as it is fiction. it could be one sentence, or a description, or a prompt, anything truly.

p.s. new to reddit so i apologise if i used the wrong tag or this is not allowed, i didn't see anything in the rules on this 😅