shoot all the birds
whitelinelinx:

Mitchy needed the bitch slap

for real I could probably watch this a thousand times and not get tired of it

whitelinelinx:

Mitchy needed the bitch slap

for real I could probably watch this a thousand times and not get tired of it

nosdoog:

sometimes distance just happens
we still friends tho

nosdoog:

sometimes distance just happens

we still friends tho

Hi Doug. I'm writing a short story at the moment, but it's not going well. I've scrapped what I thought was bad twice now and I'm onto my third effort to write up a proper draft. What advice do you have to offer a person like me? I'm currently torn between the age-old idioms of perseverance is best and knowing when to give up. It just feels like currently I'm beating my head on a stone wall and nothing good's coming out of it.

dougbeyermtg:

It sounds like you’re brute-forcing your way through writing and revising in one step. I sympathize. In my experience, that will drive you crazygonuts. Try separating your process into two phases.

In the first phase, take your Inner Editor and stick ‘em in an Oblivion Ring. All thoughts that have to do with evaluating what you’re writing get shelved for now. Your goal in this phase is not to write something amazing—“amazing” is evaluative. “Good enough to satisfy my aesthetic standards” is evaluative. “Non-crapola” is evaluative. All those Inner Editor thoughts get turned off, as best you can. Your goal during this phase is this: FINISH. WRITE WRITE WRITE until you FINISH and type the words THE END. A this point it matters ZERO PERCENT what goes on in your story; you are just hurling clay at the potter’s wheel so that you can craft this sculpture later. This phase is not about quality — it is about finishing. It is Supposed. To. Suck.

THEN put your writing aside for a while. Simmer. Take a walk. Take two walks. Eat something delicious. Pet a fuzzy animal. Refuel.

THEN enter the second phase. Now you’re a different person, in a way. You Naturalize that O-Ring and bring your Inner Editor back in full force. You aren’t criticizing the author of this clay in front of you— you’re using the raw materials they’ve provided you to shape it into something. The something might be almost there, and it might just take a bit of smoothing and spinning to get it to be great. (My rough drafts are not like this, and if yours are, I kind of hate you a little.) Or it might take squashing the whole thing back into a lump of clay to begin to form it into something beautiful again. But I find that every draft d’ crapola has at least one shining hint of a great idea buried in it. Look for that. Look for those moments that move you, even though you wrote it. Look for things that make you giggle all alone at your laptop. Look for stuff that makes you want to say, “Wait. Go back. Zoom and enhance on that last part”—that’s your cruddy draft, and your Inner Editor, telling you when something is working.

When you do both of those phases at the same time, what happens is that the Inner Editor becomes paralyzing. Its voice becomes so loud that it reaches beyond words on the page, all the way to words you haven’t even typed yet. You toss out everything you have before you’ve even whipped up a batch of raw materials. You stop working before you’ve managed to create that tiny gorgeous detail that you were trying to reach. Resist the urge to bring in the critical thoughts too early. Give yourself permission to go to weird and awful places, because just beyond those places are the best ideas and the best lines of dialogue and the best heartstring-plucking imagery you’ll ever have. Keep going. Your breakthrough might be ten thousand words from now, so you have two options: write ten thousand words agonizingly slowly over the next year, criticizing yourself about every line and hating every minute of it, or blast out ten thousand words THIS WEEK, and be basking in the glow of that tiny mote of awesome by Sunday.

sailingto-nowhere:

you should plant a tree

or some flowers

or your lips on mine

It was a story of only 4 months.
But those times would never lose their colour.

timefor1stworldbitching:

angryblackman:

I can’t mid lane for shit.

>Pick Kayle/Fizz/Kha/Ziggs
>Faceroll
to be fair I can only zed and kayle mid anywho

buy 6 different pairs of shoes. trust me i’m a pro

norkia:

ふたりなら! | 朱暮 [pixiv] 

its past midnight and I’m legitimately lying here in bed thinking about shipping a girl with her clothes

gdi trigger