It takes, at least, an hour to write a thousand words. And that’s when the words flow easily and it doesn’t include editing time. At least that’s my experience.
It’s hard. It takes time and focus and so much dedication that it’s mind-boggling. Fic writers plot while they drive to work, when they pick their kids up at school, when they take a shower, when they try to fall asleep. Basically? We plot all the time. Scenes play over and over and over in our heads until it’s like watching it on tv (this is, admittedly, awesome but also at times problematic). Lines pop into our heads at the weirdest times and we make notes on scratch papers and napkins and on our phones so we don’t forget them. We eat, breathe, and sleep our stories.
Some writers write on their lunch breaks at work instead of eating. Some stay up half the night and show up exhausted to work the next morning. Some spend weekend mornings writing at a coffee shop instead of hanging out with their family or friends. Whenever they write the fanfic you read, they do it for free and it costs them time, energy and (for those of us who camp out in coffee shops for hours on end) sometimes money.
So here it is.
If you have constructive criticism? Great. Be mindful of how you give it. Ask if the author is open to it first. Be specific. Be focused. And balance it with good points. If you are instead inclined to leave a note explaining that you won’t be reading because you don’t care for a plot element, hit the back key instead. The writer owes you nothing and comments like these are rude, self-entitled and egocentric as fuck. That fanfic you just spent fifteen minutes reading and the author spent 8 hours writing? It’s a gift. If you don’t like it? Politely back away and go elsewhere.
You are free to dislike anything you like, even if its a canon plot element. You are also free to express that dislike. However – and here’s the kicker – that doesn’t mean you should.
I’d like to think that some day I won’t feel the need to reblog this. It’s probably not true. And it’s definitely not true today.
Simone Giertz, the self-proclaimed “Queen of Shitty Robots.” She intentionally engineers terrible robots just for fun.
everything this woman makes is goddamn fantastic
So I went to her YouTube channel cuz I was like “yo I want some more funny robot videos.
Turns out:
Her latest update on twitter just came out less than a day ago:
Hopefully, her recovery goes well.
On a lighter note, when she discussed the possibility of going blind in one eye as a result of the surgery she got a comment:
She’s recovering wonderfully and she is not blind and doesnt have any complications! And she rented a full workshop, she used to work literally on the other side of her tiny basically one or two room house but now she has a whole workshop! I’m so happy for her
I hate this. Things like this scare the shit out of me.
Yes a parent should be protective. No they should not STALK their child.
Yes a parent can get upset at a child. No they should not flip out or let their anger make them out of control, or take out their anger on their child.
Yes a parent can lecture and maybe the kid feels like their parent is driving them crazy – but after the last two statements forgive me if I don’t exactly trust these definitions.
A parent should never be their child’s worst nightmare. A pain sometimes, ok, but not a nightmare.
And the idea of a parent “stalking” and “hunting down” their child is horrifying. If you were a good parent, maybe your child would have communicated whereabouts upfront with you already.
And the last statement is the worst. “I will subject you to terror and treat you like my property…. Because I love you!” No one would ever put up with this from a partner, a friend, even a grandparent…. Why is it suddenly okay from a parent?
Fuck toxic parenting.
That graphic is basically acting like emotional and psychological abuse is okay as long as it’s framed as “it’s because I love you.” Which is basically part of the abuse cycle.
If i’m telling you, “this is a hot plate.” But I make no effort to put it down, i’m internally yelling at you to move your shit. Your phone. Your keys. Your bread. Whatever is directly in front of you is from that point on is now classified as your shit. The shit you are suddenly responsibly for and I am burning my hands for. Move your shit. I’m not going to move it for you.
Shoutout to the people who see me approaching with their food and immediately start clearing the way for me. You are the real MVPs. You know what’s up. You understand.
As for everybody else. Move. Your. Shit.
Me
We see that and we respect the fuck out of you. Thank you.
In addition: when I say “this is a hot plate”, I am not offering it to you. Yes it hurts, but I’m used to it. You, on the other hand – I’m going to assume you have baby hands. Virgin hands. Hands that have not be baptized by the fire of really hot plates. I’m not offering you this hot piece of ceramic for you to burn your hands on. That makes no fucking sense. Like, thanks for not just sitting there doing nothing, but trying to take the plate from me is the wrong action
I’m telling you it’s hot so you will move your shit
In addition to this ^, stop trying to reach for it. I keep jerking it back from you for a reason. This shit came on a crowded tray and it sat burning my neck the entire walk here. So I know its hot. I can not and I will not give you this plate that’s straight from the embers of Mount Doom. Because I know what will happen: I’ll give it to you and you’ll say, “Oh, that’s hot!” and then you will proceed to fucking drop it. Ain’t nobody got time for you to be a hero, Seat 4. Just let me do what I need to do, so I put this hot ass plate down.
QueerGalaxies 