Story Where Everyone Is Gay And Also A Kinda Shitty Person

Yes, I am writing a deeply vulnerable exploration of the psyche and the human condition.

Yes, I am writing about blorbo getting railed nasty style.

They are the same work. This is not a contradiction.

Your best writing happens when you stop worrying about what’s “good” and just write. Messy, chaotic, too-long sentences. Weird, overdramatic dialogue. Scenes that make you feel something. You can always clean it up later, but the rawest, realest writing comes from writing like no one will ever read it.

“can i read your draft?” can you survive secondhand embarrassment?

Two rules for creating anything.

1) Make it weird.

2) Make it with love.

I assume it’s important…

Reading a book: “Ah, yes, brilliant. That totally makes sense. How clever!”

Attempting to write a book: “I am a complete and utter fraud. Who gave me permission to wield words? Someone revoke my keyboard.”

"How do you read so many books??" I am simply trying to avoid reality, what are you doing

Me when I finish writing something: