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chickpeaiswriting.bsky.social
@chickpeaiswriting.bsky.social
160 followers 300 following 250 posts
Editing is my passion and torment. There are ten things wrong in the words I just wrote. No, eleven.

'!' means I really like what I just read.
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chickpeaiswriting.bsky.social
! for being back & !! for the Snip. ! just because.
August 4, 2025 at 11:35 AM
Reposted
42sms1701.bsky.social
Reality Entertainment in the future might not be any better than it is now...

#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting #military #Intrigue #sciencefiction #spaceopera #sffchat #writesky #writingprompts #bluesky #humor
“I am not going through three-hundred and seventy-whatever manifests for now when we’ve got this much of a trend. Spot check a few more then we’ll call the others. Lucky us the Transit Void manifests are part of the public tax filings.” Windsor grunted and swung her feet up onto the glass desk. Pallas Mordecai did the same from the other side. “Not being able to just ask the ship to do all this was worse than Tislayak neurochemistry and they have three pituitaries.” “Oh, that’s new. Why three?” “They morph genders every standard decade or so after puberty. The first pituitary becomes inert then the other two trade dominance. They’ve turned a lot of the equatorial belt into a relationship counseling tourist attraction. They're apparently really good at it and you get free sessions if you agree to let them broadcast some of them.”
August 3, 2025 at 9:58 AM
Reposted
ms-writes.bsky.social
Here's a fun one. The voice is a character that i could just sit and read his dialogue forever and wouldn't get bored.

Do you think he's just a trick of Alex's brain? or something else?

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #AmWriting
“Come on Alex, don’t be such a pushover. Crying won’t make it better.” A man’s voice echoed throughout the bedroom. Alex flung his head up. “What? Who is this?” “looking for me? You’re looking in the wrong direction friend. I am in here.” The voice rang out from everywhere at once. Alex swept a nervous gaze around the room, but darkness and furniture were the only residents. “Told you. I am inside.” “Inside my head?” Alex knit his eyebrows. “Oh… you’re just another hallucination from the garbage collection that’s been haunting me lately.” “Those are not hallucinations Alex. And I promise you, I am very real… right? I mean crazies who see their deceased mother hanging at the edge of their door think she’s of flesh and bone. So real is relative, but I digress.” “Who the hell are you?” “That’s a difficult question. You see, I don’t really remember a thing.” He paused. “But ah, how would you address me then? After all, I am staying here a while. So, how about this? to make communication between us easier, you can call me voice. I am currently without a body… yet.” “So first I have visions, and now I hear voices? Great. Just great. I am going to go sleep.” “But why? Let’s stay here and enjoy the scenery of the couch.” The voice suggested. “What are you going to comment on everything now?” “Not to your liking?” “Who likes living with a commentator inside their head?” “Everyone has a voice inside their head Alex. The voice of self, the voice of reason, of guilt, and many more. But the voice inside your head? Well…” He broke into a loud laughter, one that resounded through Alex’s skull like a death knell. “I think your brain is following a… different trend.”
August 3, 2025 at 9:01 AM
Reposted
camalin.net
Here's an example from my WIP #Ellamir: it's the fantasy equivalent of being drunk and picking up a kebab on the way home, getting carried away with the salad and sauces, opting foolishly to top it all off with a really hot pepper, then regretting it shortly after eating:
A snippet from Ellamir by C A Malin As the coach left Upthorpe Thoroughborne, Nicholls was just beginning to regret his temerity in rushing off to answer Lady Lamont's summons without taking breakfast when he caught the tempting smell of roasting meat wafting in through the open windows. Just coming into view was a roadside stall, where a rotund halfling was turning a porker upon a spit, beneath a sign that read 'Mingo's Meat Parcels' in bright red letters. "Hi there," called Nicholls, "stop the coach!" Climbing down - "perfectly steady upon my feet, I assure you - anyone might take a slight tumble from as high and noble a carriage as the Barouche, and I suffered no hurt from it" - he had ordered the largest available of all the halfling's meat-and-bread offerings, and urged him to add to it in abundance every type of good thing he had upon the stall: fried onions, leaves of lettuce, wedges of tomato, a generous helping of Mingo's 'famous' garlic sauce, and to top it all, a long, lurid-coloured pepper. Thus furnished with much-needed sustenance, and a large paper flagon of pale ale to help it go down, he had returned to the Barouche extremely pleased.
August 3, 2025 at 11:51 AM
chickpeaiswriting.bsky.social
!
August 3, 2025 at 2:13 PM