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Hello

Yes, there's plenty of room

come in
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Super excited to see this! I'd never seen a bound uncorrected MS before. I'm guessing it's not the same thing as an ARC?
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explicit | steve rogers/bucky barnes | 22,750 words | completed

warnings: no major archive warnings. canon typical violence.

Chapter 1 now posted on Ao3 

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explicit | steve rogers/bucky barnes | 22,500 words | completed

warnings: no major archive warnings. canon typical violence.

The Army owed him leave and 5 million dollars, so Steve Rogers takes the time to get therapy for PTSD and studying law at Georgetown University. When a Supreme Court Justice is assassinated on the street in late January of 2014, Steve follows a hunch that the Justice was killed not for the sake of politics but for greed. Following a a trail of near-extinct butterflies and corrupt real-estate developers, Steve arrives at the Justice’s holiday cabin in Lake Tahoe, Nevada.

While he’s searching the Justice’s papers, his best friend Bucky Barnes breaks into his kitchen, still alive and on the run from his handlers. His memories are dim, but he never forgot Steve…and when he was ordered to quietly snuff his friend’s life, he broke away, ready to come in from the cold.

But Bucky comes back into Steve’s life with HYDRA on his his heels. They want their asset back, and Steve’s not going to give him up without a fight…

coming soon in serial form to Ao3

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 so I ordered a Rhodia hardcover notebook to use as my commonplace book of writing and craft, and I love the smooth, slightly heavier paper. I test drove a page written with one of my fountain pens, and it’s lovely and slick. I think I might just use fountain pens with it, since my other journal’s demanding ultra fine gel pens and tiny block printing and ugh

But I’m pretty excited about my commonplace book! I was going to take a picture of my first page, where I copied out a bit from big magic, where Elizabeth Gilbert talks about making a vow to write forever when she was 16, because it really stuck in my head, like it was something that I ought to have done at 16, what if I had vowed to stay close to writing, if I had realized that young that writing was what I would do forever? Where would I be now, if I had only known then?

But you know what? I didn’t know. I had...other things going on when I was 16, and I didn’t know what writing would really mean to me, and it took years to figure out that it meant something, and it’s only now that I know, sure as anything, that writing doesn’t just amuse me. writing is where I feel the most content.

And it would have been brave and magical and a little bit glamorous to be sixteen and make a serious vow to the universe to write forever...to vow to do anything forever, no matter what the outcome is. maybe it doesn’t have the same cachet, when you’re older and you know or at least have a pretty good idea what forever means, now that you’ve spent a great deal of your own share of forever already.

But I wrote the promise down today, and I mean to keep it.

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I declare a vacation. Usually about a week long. I don't look at any of my work during that week.

I get out my paper journal and pen and I write in it every day. I just brain-dump, all my complaints and worries and selfish egotistical thoughts. I'm writing to purge myself of the crap that has built up.
 
And then I read. I read every day. I read in my genre for one story, and then outside of my genre for one story. I've been catching up on "great" modern novels this year, but I've also been reading historical fiction, mystery, romance, and YA. I catch book recommendations from Stephen King, who hasn't steered me wrong yet.
 
I write about what I've read. just free-form stuff about what I like, don't like, what it sparks in me. It's all private so I can write whatever I really think, no one is going to look at it anyway
 
I go out of my way to enjoy art. a gallery or museum visit, getting lost in the met's website, I listen to genres of music I don't usually listen to every day but still enjoy. I look for award winning or classic film, but if what I want to watch is Captain America, well then okay.
 
I read nonfiction. I should read more nonfiction, but honestly I have to be interested or need it for future projects. I read biographies rarely, but I will read about a period of history or something on a subject that fascinates me.

I listen to podcasts. There are literally thousands of them. google "podcast (subject) and you're likely to find something.

If I get an idea while i'm refilling, i will scribble it down in a bunny folder, but I won't immediately leap on it to make a story. I need seven ideas for a story, so acting too quickly won't help...
 
...But if I get mugged by an idea, then I follow it. getting an idea is one thing. you can scribble it down and forget about it. but sometimes a story comes in and it's like...I don't know. an entity. it's got a setting I can see and characters who were born like Athena and things are happening that I need to write down. There's no room in my brain for anything else, and I'm compelled to record what I see.

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It’s about honeybees, witchcraft, unrequited love, and the price you pay for the magic you need. I wrote the first draft up to nearly the end. it kept me awake until 5 in the morning nagging at me like an unfinished tune until i had a nap, got out of bed, and finished it.

I think I’m going to send it to magazines.

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Currently the project that's getting the most attention from me is a Brooklyn Tweed pattern, Prime:

 Prime by Michele Wang, a Brooklyn Tweed pattern

I'm not knitting it in the recommended yarn or even at the recommended gauge. I converted it to my yarn (a worsted) and I'm making pitiful progress with it so far. I'm about halfway finished the back. maybe not quite halfway...
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Tor.com Publishing Acquires Witchmark and a Sequel from C. L. Polk

Connected to my December 15th 2016 appearance in Publisher's Marketplace, here is the official release for my upcoming debut novel. 

I still can't believe that it's happening, and so fast.

(ETA: Why the link is invisble until you hover over it, I don't know. What on earth.)
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(transcribed from graphic: “C.L. Polk’s debut WITCHMARK, in which a doctor returned from a recent war has faked his death to work at a cash-strapped veteran’s hospital, but when a fatally poisoned patient exposes his secret healing powers to a witness, he must put his anonymity and freedom at risk to investigate his patient’s murder, in a two-book deal, to Carl Engle-Laird at Tor.com, by Caitlin McDonald at Donald Maass Literary Agency.”)

It’s happening. It’s real. My novel is going to be published – not just anywhere, but at my dream publisher. I’m represented by the agent I secretly wished for when I was making my agent research spreadsheet. From my first queries in February to signing the contract in December, I’ve been so lucky.

I think I wouldn’t have managed it, though, if it hadn’t been for entering a novel mentoring contest and being selected by Michelle Hazen. Her suggestions and insight into wrangling the complicated braid of all Witchmark’s plots into something more connected made all the difference. I definitely wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for Liz Bourke, whose kind words about my manuscript tickled the curiosity of Justin Landon, who reached out and asked to see it. We’ll be diving into a new round of edits and I cannot wait to get started.

Witchmark will probably be available from tor.com in 2018. I’ll give more detail when I know for sure.

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 Even Though I Knew The End - a Serial by ceeainthereforthat, Illustrations by kai-art

Expelled High Magician Dean Winchester tracks a serial killer on the streets of Chicago in January 1941, and the Men of Letters don’t like that one bit.


  b e g i n s   j a n u a r y   f i r s t ,   t w o   t h o u s a n d   s i x t e e n

-this work is complete and will update every odd numbered day until jan. 9th.-

“Sanguine, coniunge meum et responsÄ“.”

Three drops of blood fell to the cracked asphalt between my feet, landing on the sigil drawn with the scrapings of alarm clock paint and the spores of a Japanese mushroom picked on a moonless night. The moon hid her face, and magic happened.

It’s the principle of contagion and sympathy, see. My blood, activating the luminescent properties of radium and the living glow of the fungus make the connection to the blood spilled here—

You know what, let’s skip that bit. The ground beneath my feet glowed, spreading along the alley in an obscene greenish smear. It touched everything that was blood and made it light up like the hands on a glow in the dark clock, or a—yeah, a fairy mushroom. I would study these photos and read these smears, divine how Miss MacIntyre died at the red-stained hands of the Half-Moon killer. 


Rating: Mature
Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Jimmy Novak
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jimmy Novak, Castiel, Sam Winchester, fem!Crowley, Bartholomew, Original Male Characters, Original Female Characters
Additional Tags/Warnings: 1940′s Noir/Detective AU, Established Relationship, Period appropriate homophobia, Period appropriate ableism, Period appropriate sexism, early psychiatric practices, canon-typical violence, gore, smoking, alcohol use

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This is an exercise I'm doing to help me find my narrator's voice. This is a supernatural fanfic project.

He was only two years younger than me but he was just a kid with his hair flopping into his eyes and lipstick all over his face after he’d been kissed in by the queens at the Wink. He was jumpy and flustered by the cheers and applause, half of him ready to bolt and the other half rubbernecking at the sight of a roomful of men, drinking together, smoking, embracing. This wasn’t some tourist getting a look at the pansies. He was alone, for one thing. the straight ones came in packs.
 
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Editing is still going well. I've done an hour, and I'll do another hour after a bit of a break.

After writing the dialogue only prompt i got in my tumblr askbox last night, I realized that I've come a long way when it comes to seaming in setting and how necessary I find it to writing now. I thought about writing a post about Setting in stories. I'm not sure how I will structure it, exactly, but I hope it will be helpful.  
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 Evidently I have decided that just editing my MS isn't complicated enough, so I'm creating a style sheet for all my proper names and unusual terms, and I'm mapping out each scene to see if it's pulling its weight. It's possible I will get to 50 hours of editing without actually finishing the editing, and I'm a bit grumpy about that.
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 Just testing a thing. I'm figuring out crossposting between DW and tumblr.
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But I'm going to do a little posting, and see who's around.

Say hi! I'd love to meet more people to follow! 
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 A few hours of sleep would go unnoticed. It would sink into the routine of the morning. I took his wrist. His heartbeat fluttered under my fingers, exhausted but still running for its life. Crescent shaped welts reddened the palm of his hand. My vision slid out of ordinary focus and locked on the glowing paths of life inside Old Gerald’s body: the rush of air as he breathed, the pulse of blood as his heart beat, and something that almost made me shut my eyes and drop Old Gerald’s wrist.
Red-brown muck concentrated itself in Old Gerald’s head.
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6 in 2012 knitting challenge.

The idea is that i name six things I will knit in 2012. and here they are:


  1. A Sweater

  2. A Pair of Socks

  3. A Work in Progress

  4. An Original Design

  5. A Work of Lace

  6. A New Thing That Scares Me a Bit



I'm already working on number 1, 2 is next in line, I know what WIP I want to finish, i'm certain I know what i'm going to design, and the other two? dunno.
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From everyone: Pick up the book nearest to you. Turn to page 45. The first sentence there describes your sex life in 2012.

--perhaps writing letters is not as harmless an activity as I would have thought.
It's Five Hundred Years After by Steven Brust

Interesting.

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