peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/2n4Z2be

silentauroriamthereal:

writing-and-nutmeg:

ladypolaris:

fanfictionwriter101:

A reminder for when you’re writing 

Thank u Jeff Goldblum

I needed this 😭

Thank you, Jeff Goldblum! You are the Jeff Goldblumiest and I love you ❤️❤️❤️
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/2mIq1c1

ebp-brain:

What do we lose when we condemn the existence of fanworks that include unhealthy, traumatic, violent, or otherwise difficult material?

I grew up celebrating the American Library Association’s Banned Books Week every year, and it has profoundly impacted my views on censorship. While progressive fan communities are generally against banning commercially published literature, sometimes well-meaning fans condemn the existence of fanworks that portray unhealthy, traumatic, or violent material in the interest of protecting people from it. I wanted draw a connection between the kind of censorship that those fans suggest and the kind applied to frequently banned works of commercial literature that we consider politically and artistically vital. What are we losing when we condemn fic that deals with difficult material?

When fanworks are racist, misogynistic, homophobic, etc., we should certainly critique them! That’s not in question here. What I wanted to highlight with this post is what we lose if we attempt to enact a general ban on, or refuse to ever engage with, any fanworks that portray less than perfectly “good” behaviors and experiences.

It would be impossible to talk about this without offering endless thanks to [personal profile] transformativeworks and their maintenance of Archive of Our Own, whose tagging system works to ensure that readers can navigate difficult material as safely as possible. <3 <3 <3

under the cut: image descriptions

Keep reading
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/32dt0ce

tickle-a-bee:

it’s 2019. can we kill the idea that introvert = ‘bookish, reserved, shy, intelligent, boring, “antisocial”’ and extrovert = 'careless, dumb, silly, fun, confident, outgoing’ etc.

extroversion means being energised by being around other people. introversion means being energised by being alone. a lot of people are a bit of both (like it depends on context). someone who’s extroverted may be terrible at giving a speech, and vice versa

AND antisocial doesn’t mean avoiding social interaction. that’s asocial. antisocial is being offensive and disruptive

I actually ended up needing to drag this in to a discussion on Twitter, because someone using the correct (above) definition of extrovert and someone using the common misunderstanding (also outlined above[1]) were getting snarly at each other. I am glad they stopped.

But yes. Reblogging for a general signal boost.

=====

[1] TBH it was my misunderstanding for the longest time and it’s still how I tend to read things; I blame the title of that book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, personally, as it is a catchy phrase which reinforces that introversion is about behaviour rather than recharging.
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/33dxqB0
[tumblr.com profile] captain-truffles:

Know what’s kind of interesting?  Often with a fic, you reach a point – even with a one-shot – where you’re like “Ah, shoot, this isn’t some Platonic ideal of itself” and start to convince yourself that the minor rough edges and uneven-ness are serious and irredeemable.  It’s not the flavor of the story, the character of the narrative, your own unique writing voice – nah, it’s a shoddy version of itself and you hate it.  You’ve read it so many times you can’t un-notice the tiny imperfections, the perceived imperfections.

When you get to that point and someone picks up your fic and says, “This is a nice little home you’ve got here,” there’s a temptation to say “Yeah, but did you notice the creaky floors, the gaps in the walls, the subtle inconsistencies sprinkled around?  It’s structurally sound, sure, but it’s not airtight, it’s not a new way of building a house, in fact our neighbors just built a house like this and we’re pretty sure it’s better than ours.  To top it off, our best craftsmanship is a few years beyond the level we were at when we made this.  It’s not great, it’s okay at best and we know we can do better, so – ‘thanks, I hate it’ is more the reaction we’d expect.  Besides, you’ve probably seen mansions built by people with thirty years of experience, right?  How can this compare?”

And that’s when you’re like “Wait a damn minute, I just made a thing someone wants to enjoy, someone thinks is great, someone wants to spend time with – and I’m trying to push them away from it?”  I don’t care if you made a rickety backyard shed; you goddamn made something, and that is a place others are interested in inhabiting.  And sometimes the reward isn’t the whole fic: it’s about the shading on the walls, that one color you created accidentally that conveys a unique emotion, the way the structure frames the world outside it.  Sometimes it’s just a comfortable place to stay when it’s stormy, and it doesn’t need to be perfect, it shouldn’t be perfect, because it’s a reflection of the person who made it.

Write the damn fic you want to live with in all its glorious imperfections.  We spend so much time searching for things we love, and then we criticize ourselves for trying to make it ourselves, because other people do the thing, too, and they did it differently and sometimes “differently” feels like “better.”  I mean, why should I write whump and h/c and slow burn romances when there are glorious, sprawling, unbelievably well-loved stories out there?  Because I haven’t sated my own appetite for it, and everyone who comes to the door eager to see what’s inside hasn’t lost their appetite, either.  

That’s the best part: there is an endless hunger for fics, whether it’s old fans or brand-new ones searching for their favorite tropes, give me more, give me more.  Heck, even after we move past our current fandom, we leave our works behind, and people find them and love them, no matter if they ever leave a single trace of their presence for us, the creators, to find.  Their presence alone, choosing to step through the door and see what we made, means something.  We can forget that kudos and comments and even hits don’t measure reader happiness and how many times one person returns to it or how much that one line made someone ache.  Quantifying love is impossible, but we try because we’re desperate for validation and proof that the thing we love to do and make and inhabit is worth it.

It is.  I promise you – even if you can barely string two sentences together, even if you haven’t written in ten years, even if you hate everything you’ve ever written – you have made other people happy, inspired them, changed them and their relationship with the thing you love.  These works literally change us.  They enrich our lives.  And we can’t let the Platonic ideal be the line we have to cross before we let other people see what we’ve done.  

It might seem like we shouldn’t put sub-par fics out into the world, but I am literally begging you to do exactly that: write terrible, self-indulgent, absolute clusterfucks of stories.  Drabbles, full-length novels, one-shots, WIPs – whatever!  First time writer?  Fuck yeah!!  Been writing for three years?  Holy shit!!  You’re amazing and I’m so excited to see what you can do!!  Who cares if there are too many commas?  You think my stupid monkey brain says “Comma kill Story – bad Story, one too many Comma” when I’m reading a hurt/comfort fic to die for?  no!!  It’s all about satisfying the craving, babey!!  Perfection is OUT.  Imperfection is IN.

Don’t even put a damn roof on the thing – we’ve got a whole subgenre known as PWP that basically says “You know what?  Fuck the roof.  We don’t need it.”  Just write exactly what you want to write.  Someone out there is looking desperately for the story you would love to write.  That’s the love story of it all: your work is a gift to someone who has a hunger for it, a place to stay, a comfort in a cold, dark, unforgiving world.  It is not about making the most beautiful story humanity has ever witnessed.  It’s about writing a story that will make some people very, very happy, a few mildly overjoyed, and with enough exposure, probably a few people rather angry (“really?  No roof??  it’s fucking raining in the living room!!”).  Ignore the angry remarks (unless you’re looking for someone to spot the flaws, and want to make a less drafty house – then say “thanks for mentioning it!”), embrace the people who are stoked about your story.

Listen – for the love of God, listen – when people tell you that they loved something you made.  It doesn’t matter if it could be better.  It could always be better!  The very world we’re framing with these stories could be a hell of a lot better!!  We are imperfect!  We are going to only ever make imperfect things!  And they’re amazing and entertain an audience desperately LOOKING for imperfect things!  Every human being has the CAPACITY to write, to make stories, and so many aren’t because we have this idea that only people within a percentage of the Platonic ideal are supposed to be writing at all.

Fanfiction isn’t supposed to be about constructing a story with perfect grammar, flawless narratives, spot-on characterization, etc.  It’s about writing more content for a thing you love, even if that content is far from the best you can do and maybe doesn’t hold up to the test of time.  That’s okay!  It’s okay to make bad art!  It’s okay to make okay art!  It’s okay especially to make okay art!!  Make it!  Just write it!  Don’t care if it gets zero notes or you hate it!  Someone is going to find it and love it and hope that you do more!  Because you WILL get even more experienced if you keep at it, and suddenly you will naturally do the things that were once monumental struggles because you kept at it until you sanded down the rough edges.

Don’t punish yourself for the imperfections, the extra commas and run-on sentences and lack of transitions.  I wish there was ten times as much content in the genres I love, but I’m grateful that there is ANY content in the genres I love, and those efforts matter so much.  It matters so much to me that there are literally millions of writers out there, every one of them at some point looking at what they do and thinking “This is objectively terrible” and wanting to burn the whole house down.  Don’t you dare!!  I love that you did something!!  I love that it’s not the Platonic ideal!!  It’s yours!!

I find it both comforting and tragic whenever I am confronted by that feeling, that terrible feeling that the thing I just spent hours, days, months on isn’t everything I hoped it could be.  So what!!  Neither are you!!  None of us are perfect, we’re all making mistakes all the time, accumulating regrets, and yet we are still living good lives, trying to live better lives, and fuck the concept of the best life!  It’s not real!  Just try, do what you’re doing and don’t punish yourself for not being more.  You’re doing good!  And good is a good thing!

This has been a pep talk sponsored by “God, I’m so glad this thing that I’ve written hasn’t inspired me to hate it.”  I promise you won’t hate everything you ever write, and I really hope that you keep writing to find those joyful moments.  (And trust me, even with this thing, there have been parts I’m like “Goddamn it, I could do so much better – I don’t know how, but I could, right?”  WRONG.  That was what I did, and it moved the story forward, good is good enough.)  And if you’re brand new, heck yeah!!  Heck yeah!!!  Welcome aboard, hope you love it here!!  We can always appreciate more of a good thing.  You are capable – you are literally overflowing with talent – of making good things!  Just try!  It’ll be okay!
Truffles, I needed to hear this so much last night, you have no idea. Thank you.
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/2T1EdJC

warm-positivity:

Becoming a positive person does not mean never experiencing negative emotions. It means learning to cope with them in a healthy way and being able to recognize that those feelings are temporary. Please don’t ever be upset with yourself for feeling.

Oof.

Jun. 28th, 2019 02:04 pm
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/2XCsdmr

In which Karolina Dean gets it.

[caption: three panels in which Karolina Dean is talking to her offscreen therapist about coping strategies, looking exasperated and unhappy. Dialogue follows.

Karolina: Stability, sunlight, sleep… Exercise and meditation. This.

Therapist: Sounds like a plan…

Karolina: Sounds like a full-time job.

Karolina: I feel like I’m going to have to give up all the things that make me happy just to have enough energy for all the things that keep me sane.]

It’s been a long week in ways that are tripping me up when I don’t expect it. Take care of yourselves, everyone.
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2XoV3Xb

janeykara:

we seriously need to bring back the concept of “despite its flaws i still enjoy it” instead of ‘cancelling’ every fuckin thing in sight 

*agrees from where I am watching Blood Drive with blood-spattered popcorn* It’s a very cathartic way to live.

(hi I watch trash and I am not ashamed)
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2WGQzGW

Oof.

I do not typically identify much with Kendra Saunders, but this page from the Free Comic Book Day ashcan promo for Dear Justice League is ringing a lot of bells:

I feel horribly seen.
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2I8akBY

thelatestkate:

I’m that person who will have a rough week without any real breaks and then feel confused as to why I’m struggling. Eveeeerrrrry time.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

  °˖✧*•  Shop, Patreon, Book, Mailing List *•. ✧˖°`
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2Lw6cAJ

katieshanahan-art:

“What Fear Said” 

Written by Steven “Shaggy” Shanahan and illustrated by Katie Shanahan for the Valor Comic Anthology 

(You can get this excellent 300+ pg anthology ebook for $5 here)

I’m heading to TCAF today, so this seemed like an appropriate thing to post.

(No laptop for the weekend.)
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2YivB2A

fozmeadows:

I’m starting to lose patience with how the purity/anti movement fails to recognise that, by definition, every adult has the lived experience of having been a teenager at some point, as opposed to just being some weird, separate class of person who exists completely beyond the Realm of Youth. Yes, there is a relevant distinction to be made between people who grew up at different times, under different cultural auspices, and how their varying experiences contributed to both their development then and their beliefs now, but at the same time, the idea that only current and/or extremely recent teenagers are qualified to talk about teenage anything is Deeply Unhelpful, not least because it means continually reinventing the discourse wheel. If your entire intellectual position is that it’s fundamentally bad or wrong for adults to socialise, morally disagree with or otherwise debate teenagers, then you’ve essentially committed to the idea that growing as a person - that growing up, even - invalidates whatever Youthful Knowledge you once possessed, while simultaneously deeming it creepy if said grown-ups continue to profess any interest in youth culture. 

A personal observation: in my tweens and teens, it felt like becoming an adult was this weird, almost brainwashy switch-flip whereby you suddenly woke up one morning and Knew You Were An Adult, as though your subconscious had downloaded a hardware upgrade during the night - and part of what enabled that belief is how little time I spent around non-family, non-teacher adults until I was one. Our society now is weirdly age-segregated, as I’ve had occasion to note before, and any kind of segregation tends to distort our perception of whichever groups we see only at a distance. I understand why there are teenagers in the world and online who think it’s weird that some adults like the same stuff they do, or enjoy stories with teenagers in them, and I also understand that creepy adults do exist - but the Venn diagram of overlap between those categories is very far from being a perfect circle.

Here’s the truth: you don’t wake up one morning and suddenly Become An Adult Forever. You just keep getting better at being yourself, day after day, which means lots of small changes over time - some of them obvious, some of them not, all happening at different rates in response to different stimuli - while your brain chemistry finds an equilibrium, or at least a relative normal, and the novelty of new autonomy is counterbalanced by the addition of new responsibilities. And at some point, you have the realisation that the Adult Switch is never going to flip: that it always was and always will be just you, forever, doing the same sort of mental and emotional self-improvement that took you from scrawled backwards letters in kindergarten to writing essays in middle school, only without a Well Done! sticker or a letter grade to reward you, and without a shared framework of educational tests and milestones to give the illusion of a universal developmental trajectory with the people you see each day, who now vary vastly in age. 

Because really, the way you develop is never universal - hell, it’s not even necessarily linear. I learned to read at three and never stopped; my husband, now a university professor, didn’t read a full book by himself until he was ten. You forget skills throughout your life and have to relearn them; some things you learn to do differently than others. Kids who grow up watching their parents fight in an unhappy marriage can know more about heartbreak at twelve than many well-adjusted adults, but the same is also true of the adult version of that kid, reaching out to someone younger who they recognise as going through the same issues. The idea that teenagers are fluid and developing, whereas adults are static and already know themselves forever, and can therefore have no non-creepy reason for talking to teens or enjoying youth culture, is wrong on every level. 

It is healthy for people to interact with people of all ages - quite literally, it connects us to our shared humanity. Those heartwarming, “surprise, this worked!” articles you see every so often, about how giving students rooms in a retirement community or putting a kindergarten in an old age home was a net boon to everyone involved shouldn’t shock us, because that’s how people are meant to live. The fact that we’ve built our current educational model around separating students by age isn’t some fundamental expression of How People Are - it’s an historical anomaly with a slew of toxic behavioural, cultural and emotional consequences. 

I am not saying that every teenage fan needs to go out and befriend adult fans, or even feel comfortable with the idea of doing so. As I said, everyone develops at different rates! But there is a big, honking difference between saying, “I am sixteen and don’t feel comfortable being friendly with adults,” and “I am sixteen and don’t feel comfortable being friendly with adults, so therefore any other teenager who does is a naive victim of creepy behaviour,” and I would rather not see them conflated.

All of this.

(I miss those grades and shared frameworks. They weren’t the nicest bits, but they were certainly easy and reliable. Still: the stratification was ultimately pretty useless.)
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2vDjpNp

shadow-spires:

iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid:

comment on ao3: this is great! can’t wait to see how it all pans out

me, sipping coffee at 3:42 am and staring down the 8000 word chapter that’s gone off the rails and has no ending in sight: shit, man, neither can i

Alternately, also me: *weeping and staring at the same blank word document/same couple lines for the last couple YEARS*: fuck, I wish I knew.
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2V4EPCq

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

in a constant state of ‘how dare you assume i know what i’m doing’ but also ‘don’t you dare question me or what i’m doing’   
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2ZqGf8E

thelatestkate:

°˖✧*•  Shop, Patreon, Book, Mailing List *•. ✧˖°`

2019 mood

Apr. 8th, 2019 02:04 pm
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via http://bit.ly/2uUIG5s

emperorstyles:

2019 mood: absolutely zero shame in re-reading your own fics and saying “This was good. This was a good thing I did, I’m proud of myself and I’m a good writer”
peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
via https://ift.tt/2TTuBUV

letters-to-lgbt-kids:

Anonymous asked: Wait, I signed up for a trans kid when I decided to become pregnant? Are you joking or are you really that crazy?

Hey there, 

I’m not joking at all and I don’t really see how this would be a laughing matter to you. 

Yes, you signed up for a trans kid. And while we are at it, you also signed up for a disabled kid. Autistic kid. Gay kid. A kid who doesn’’t look like you. A deaf kid. A kid who will have interests that don’t match up with yours at all. You signed up for a shy kid and a loud kid and a kid who wets the bed and a sick kid.  

That’s the beauty, the miracle of parenthood, don’t you agree? You decide to care for a little person you don’t even know yet. You decide to open your heart and home to them, you promise to nurture and love and protect a tiny human being. How can you promise that, if not unconditionally? 

You can’t pick and choose your kid. Maybe even more importantly, they can’t choose you. They depend on you to keep that promise - and not only if they live up to whatever expectations you had. 

With all my love, 

Tumblr Mom 

“This, you see, is the danger of children: they are ambushes, each and every one of them. A person may look at someone else’s child and see only the surface, the shiny shoes or the perfect curls. They do not see the tears and the tantrums, the late nights, the sleepless hours, the worry. They do not even really see the love, not really. It can be easy, when looking at children from the outside, the believe that they are things, dolls designed and programmed by their parents to behave in one manner, following one set of rules. It can be easy, when standing on the lofty shores of adulthood, not to remember that every adult was once a child, with ideas and ambitions of their own.

“It can be easy, in the end, to forget that children are people, and that people will do what people will do, the consequences be damned.”

 - Seanan McGuire, Down Among the Sticks and Bones

Profile

peppercat: Annoyed-looking rat, with other rats, climbing over a pile of rubble. (Default)
PepperCat

October 2019

S M T W T F S
   12 3 45
678910 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 31st, 2026 01:21 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios