Some indie authors over on Bluesky are doing a casual, 30 day writing challenge through the month of July, with the aim of it being a relaxed space for sharing cool snippets from your WIP.
I figured I’d give it a shot, and that it might be nice to have a little thread to keep it from cluttering the positivity/general thread. Don’t know how much I’ll share, exactly, but I’ll be working on my current IF WIP: The Love We Buried, from which I entered three excerpts into the NeoTwiny jam we just wrapped up over at the Neo-Interactives.
Transcript: A collaged paper styled poster, in cream and light brown with floral accents. Title: 30 days, 30 Lines. Sub title: A Writing Positivity Challenge. The body text is bulleted as such:
You have 30 days. These don’t have to be consecutive, but don’t let a week go by without working on your WIP.
Post your favourite line that you’ve written or edited on each day that you’ve worked.
A line can be a line, or it can be a paragraph, a bullet on an outline, a poem, a note- whatever you’re most proud of that day.
Use the tag #30Days30Lines, and don’t forget to support each other!
Probably just on here, though I imagine I’ll use it more as a casual check in thing. I don’t really post much on Bluesky, asides from reblogging my friends’ art and like, a cascade of kitten pictures, but the latter is expected from me on any social media platform, more or less.
Well… between coding some stuff and writing reviews, I’m trying to finish the re-writes of a WIP (which I had hoped I would have been done with last month, but oh well). The sentence(s) of the day:
Before you let Camille finish this first sentence, you pen down ADJ — a fine adjective, but not to your standard. Still, the page slips away, once more folded, once more inscribed, once more passed along. And while you are not particularly happy with your choice, your friend beams at hers. What I would give for that peace of mind…
Since the Decker Fantasy Camp began, I came back to te/ra/to/ma to maybe finish it for this month lol
I couldn’t give my organs because I wasn’t dead yet and I couldn’t give my blood, since I wasn’t old enough, but I could at least serve as a case study, which could perhaps turn into something greater down the road.
The mortals shuffled in herds, down the packed sidewalks between towers of steel, their minds preoccupied with the tedium of commerce, or the unlikely hope of romance, ignorant of the peril looming over their fleeting existence. A sudden revelation crept into your consciousness. If the mortals were incapable of perceiving their eminent destruction, let alone stop it, would it not be kinder to leave them blissfully ignorant?
Spent a good deal of time setting up my cute little notebook for this monthly writing challenge- a tracker to colour in for every day written, rules of the challenge, working synopsis and title, and a little page where I get to doodle one new cat for everyday I write, as a little treat for myself, and to have a fun colourful little something by the end of it. Pretty pleased with it. Anyway, here’s a chunk I liked well enough, so far:
When Nicholas disappeared, Joel chainsmoked himself hoarse. His mouth was still unbearably dry the next morning, when he stood in front of the don, smelling of stale cigarette smoke and poor decision making.
Ooh, this seems fun! Let’s find a line that’s not spoilery.
Barely a moment later the door slams open and Inspector Hughes strides in, his bulky frame wrapped in an enormous overcoat. “None of the suspects, she says. All four of the theories ruled out. Have to look deeper. And Biddlecombe doesn’t find a single bloody thing. It’s time to take care of this myself.”
No points for guessing what genre I’m writing in, yet again…
The raven haired woman chuckled, a low rasp caught in her lower throat. “Oh, Uriel, you still love them, don’t you?”
Your turn your face, red with anger, toward the ground away from her. She was right. Despite your feigned disinterest, you did indeed love the mortals. “And what of it, Asbeel? You yourself once loved them, did you not? Isn’t that how you came to be cast aside by Him?”
With defiance, you turn your head back to Asbeel to challenge her. She feigned boldness, but only briefly, before turning away in ancient shame. “I’m over it, darling. Their destruction is their own doing.”
Wished I had been able to write more, but here’s my sentence for today:
But you are not alone in this disappointment, as your friends’ faces too bear the mark, with Camille going as far as pouting in rejection. Yet, you restrain your rolling eyes, dreading the ire of Renaud, and bite your tongue instead, afraid more bitter words would sour the already tart moment.
I was incredibly drained by the weather today so. Not a lot of new stuff. Just some girl talk shenanigans from Passerine Hills
Holly
-like, fine, I kissed them, and I’ll admit, it felt nice, but it doesn’t mean anything, right?
She looks at us desperately, hoping to find any support for her denial. Naturally, she finds none of it because both me and Clare can see right through it - I wonder if it’s because we were both in the same place before.
Clare (slowly and carefully)
Do you… want it to mean something?
