About Writing


When you’re a writer, there’s an unspoken pressure to describe things poetically — probably because no one ever says, “I love how concise and to-the-point all the descriptions are!” when they talk about their favorite novel.

Oftentimes, that pressure turns into purple prose, which is laborious and awful. Most readers will skip over purple prose rather than slog through it.

Some people are naturally more poetic than others, and can effortlessly pull metaphors and similes out of their mind. Me? I’m not. I’m a concise and to-the-point sort of person.

But thankfully, the real world is pretty awesome without all of them fancy descriptions, and you can still create an immersive scene without resorting to purple prose.

Step one: See the world.
I mean, really see it. Internalize it. Notice the small things that are easy to miss, and use ALL of your senses. Pay attention to how it makes you feel.

Step two: Write what you see.
Use the language that comes naturally to you. A sense of vividness comes from including those small details, such as smell or sounds.

Storm clouds rolled in as the sun was setting. The sky turned from gray to a pale gold, with rosy patches intermixing with the darkness of the clouds, but the wind was warm and dry without any hint of rain. Still, it whipped at my clothes and hair, and brought with it the scent of brine from the Great Salt Lake, which was enough to send a thrill pulsing through me.

About Writing


I’ve seen it around writing communities that you should never use “suddenly” or it’s synonyms to describe something happening abruptly — instead you should just jump in and have it happen.


I strongly disagree.

As a writer, you are telling your story to an audience.

While events might take the characters by surprise, sometimes it’s more polite to refrain from punching the reader in the face with a jarring transition.

Words like, “suddenly,” “unexpectedly,” “abruptly,” etc, slow down the transition into the new event, and make it easier to mentally process. So, when you think that the new event comes on too roughly, go ahead and throw those words in. Don’t let random people on the internet tell you otherwise.

Use your own judgment.

Picture not remotely related.
Stories, The Scion Suit

Lartmann and Hambert Are Dead

A/N: …I wanted a break from serious writing...


Hartmann paced around the empty room, occasionally flipping a coin and studying it, before continuing on his circuit. Lambert, on the other hand, sat still in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

“Do you …” he began, then hesitated.

“Get sick of all these tails?” Hartmann suggested. “Can’t say I do.”

Lambert gave him a flat look. “I thought you were getting heads.”

“Not from you,” Hartmann muttered in reply.

“What I meant to say was that it seems like we’re stuck in a featureless void.”

“Looks more like a room to me.”

“Do you see any doors or windows?”

“No. But there are distinct planes and vertices.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “Alright then, a featureless cube.”

“Clearly, the answer is that when we were told we were going to be integrated into a biomechanical alien species, we were lied to. Either this room is some sort of alien prison, or we’re dead,” Hartmann replied.

“Yes. That makes sense,” Lambert mused. “But why do you have that coin?”

“It was in my pocket.”

“And why does it only ever come up heads?”

“Alien space magic. Why else?” Hartmann answered.

“Do you ever think that you and I are ultimately interchangeable?”

“We’re the variables. You represent the noble side of humanity, while I’m the cavalier aspect. Lawful good versus chaotic neutral.”


“You wanted to talk about it,” Hartmann muttered.

“Sometimes we might as well be the same person,” Hambert said darkly.

“There could be some truth to that,” Lartmann replied. “Our identities are already intermixing.

“I liked who I was,” Harbert said sulkily.

“How do you think I feel? You are a comparatively boring person,” Lamtmann pouted.

“Damn alien technology,” Hartert grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Lambmann agreed.

“Fading …” Hartmet gasped.

“No …” Lambeann sobbed.

And together, they merged into Lartbertmann – half man, half another man.


About Writing

Exploring What ifs

I confess, when it comes to writing I often feel like I’m inserting things that most people are never going to notice.

Which is how The Scion Suit became a love triangle.

It’s not the stereotypical “Which guy will she choose?” sort of thing, though, because of the branching timelines. Carol never attempts to pursue both men in the same story arc. She’s not remotely the sort of character who would even think about doing such a thing, considering that she starts out completely asexual.

Aaaand I’m not remotely attracted to the sort of woman who plays/exploits multiple men. It’s a quirk of mine to write female characters that I would marry if I were a man, which drastically changes how everything plays out. Hence why Carol’s romantic prospects both make around $80~90k a year, and will never buy her any expensive cars or jewelry, lol.

Instead, it’s more about exploring a number of “what ifs”.

What if Carol’s human nature overrides the Commander?

What if Carol never gets back into the Suit?

What if Hartmann is the antagonist?

What if Lambert is the antagonist?

But since I’m not bluntly labeling each timeline with my underlying reason for writing it, I figure that most of my themes are going to slip by unnoticed. People are going to assume that I’m aiming for “Team Hartmann” vs “Team Lambert” and not realize that one of them works with the Commander, while the other fights against it.

Not to mention, Carol starts off as a blank slate, and the final shape of her personality depends on which man she interacts with the most, versus how much time she gets in the Suit.

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About Writing

Carol, again

A bit of random trivia is that Carol was actually the name of the main character from the first novel I ever finished … when I was 14.

I technically still have the file, but it’s encrypted so it can never come back to haunt me, lol.

As you’d expect from a novel written by a 14-year-old, the main character was a Mary-Sue. She had unlimited magical abilities, fell head over heels for a handsome prince, but was tragically the daughter of The Evil Antagonist. So. Epic.

But, because I’m a MAJOR weirdo, I didn’t name her anything AWESOME like Silver Raventhorn or whatever.

I named her Carol.

Yeah … I dunno.

I guess I had a pragmatic streak back then, too.

My current Carol, with The Scion Suit, is not in any way related to or inspired by the original. I recycled the name because it fit as normal and average.

And maybe also as a nod to my teenage self.

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