Wip Introduction - Blog Posts

tehe i made a little uquiz you should take it tehehehe

About me

• Turkish/Kurdish

• English Major

• Introverted perfectionist

• Lover of art, classic literature and aesthetics, morally grey fictional characters, novels with lots of gloom and doom

Writerly Habits

• I write in the same font as most legal documents—Times New Roman (bland, I know)

• Single-spaced forever—I like big chunks of text

• Fountain pen enthusiast

• Could spend the rest of my life at the desk

 Wips (some of which fill me with dread to continue)

• Yellow Houses /// adult lit-fic novel. Unhinged university students vandalize houses, painting them school-bus yellow, then write about wondering who did it in the local paper. Hmm...

• Liquor and Locusts /// adult modern fantasy novel. TW because this is a pandemic story! A squatter crashes at a countryside manor during a pandemic, befriending an elderly gardener and his very emo apprentice. There is somehow also a talking locust who loves brandy.

• Red Pleather /// lit short fiction. A teenage girl’s relationship with her older brother who constricts her from the world outside their crowded apartment complex. Warning: a lot of stair climbing and internal monologues in this one.

CURRENT PROJECT: PROJECT ISTANBUL

lit fic? Thriller? Noir Novel // Heavyyy dark academia aesthetics // Set in Istanbul, Turkey.

You would like this if you enjoy reading about morally grey journalists, secret clubs, etc.

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Note: Wanted to say that this is an updated blog introduction— I’ve been away for some time,,,, but anyways! I’m back here now to share my current wips, writerly frustrations, and general artsy aesthetics.

That said, other writeblrs! Please interact so I can read all of your beautiful wips~

Also, I attached a random illustration I made for the Project Istanbul MCs, as well as a link to the wip intro. Hope you enjoy!

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Flowery Prose

Hello friend, it’s been a while. I completed the first draft of my adult thriller novel, which I’m currently referring to as Project Istanbu

See link above for the wip intro!

I love this pov!! :oo Please add me to your taglist???

I N T R O D U C I N G: 996 CATHERINE CLOSE. this is a story about a house, which is to say my story, which is to say a story with walls, and doors, and people passing through them. they go and they do not stay. this seems unfair, at least to me. does it seem unfair to you?

GENRE: a ghost story minus ghosts. POV: mostly first person and some third person sections. THEMES: homes as monsters, memory, preservation and loss, good and bad families, letting go, holding on, abandonment, every house is haunted. CONTENT WARNING: abuse, mental illness, some horror elements.

All I could do was watch. 

My voice was too low. I could barely even sing to myself, the walls creaking and shuddering the tiniest bit when I tried to create voice. Jonathan had built me too well. I fit together like one of those puzzle sets, all the edges aligned perfectly, no room for air to whistle through holes and for me to rattle the walls like percussion. I could whisper. I would soften the sounds of my floorboards when Marie was bedridden with one of her headaches, her body turned away from the light streaming through the windows. I couldn’t dim that light. But I could make everything around a little quieter and a little less. She was always dearer to me than Jonathan, so I did more for her.

There were many things I couldn’t do. I couldn’t scrub my floors for her. I couldn’t remove the tiny shards of glass stuck in lines of grout that she painstakingly scoured the kitchen floor for, on her hands and knees, wincing when her palm dragged across one that she hadn’t seen. I couldn’t stitch my walls back together where Jonathan’s fist had opened holes. I couldn’t save Marie.

I’m sorry. This isn’t a tragedy like that.

I have a flair for the dramatic now, from the stories that I’ve heard throughout the years. I have always been an eavesdropper, ever since I was born. But I used to tell things better. So allow me my confusion, and I will correct it. They didn’t die here. They simply left. Only one person has died here, and if they remained as a ghost, then it is not as one that I have ever personally known. When I say that I am haunted, I mean that I am haunting myself. I asked for them to stay, and they did not, but the images do. 

I can hold onto those forever.

find out more.

TAG LIST: @phloxxiing / @nouveauweird / @pilipalea / @starrywritingg /  @carnalbanshee/ @flynnswritings / @ohsugarfoot / @reya-writes / @onfablesandfiction / @reeseweston / @cohldhands / @klaythestoryteller / dm or reply to be added!

I want to read this :oo

[TRANSCRIPT/TAGLIST AT END OF POST]

W.I.P. (re)Introduction:

TINY FLEA

[OLD INTRO]

GENRE/S: Speculative, horror, dystopian pandemic, soft elements of sci-fi & supernatural.

SETTING: The fictitous town of Tiny Flea, New South Wales, Australia; 2024.

AUDIENCE: Adult.

POV/TENSE: Third person limited (multi POV), past tense.

STATUS: First draft.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Horror themes (incl. psychological&body horror); violence and gore; bugs/parasites; murder/death; alcoholism/smoking; unreality; paranoia; religious themes; portrayals of bigoted beliefs; discussions/mentions of abuse; references to grooming & coercion. (Note: may be updated later).

CONCEPT: In the year 2024, a parasitic disease breaks out in Tiny Flea, a fictitious town in NSW, Australia. In an attempt to control the spread of the parasite, the town is closed off from the rest of the country. The story follows several perspectives, showcasing how each person deals with their newfound circumstance. Some band together in order to survive, to try and restore order and to discover the true nature of the parasite. Others, however, have more sinister intentions...

SYNOPSIS:

Returning to his hometown of Tiny Flea after serving a twelve-year prison sentence, thirty-six year old Gavin DeRossi is eager to redeem himself. However, any hopes Gavin had of going back to a normal life are dashed when he finds his hometown in the grips of a parasitic pandemic. Worse still, both of his parents, the people he considered to be his only allies left in the world, are dead—killed by the mysterious brain parasite which plagues the town.

Banding together with a ragtag group of survivors, Gavin is determined to save the town of Tiny Flea by learning more about the true nature of the parasite. The answers he finds, however, are far more bizarre than he ever could have anticipated...

TRANSCRIPT 1: In the eyes of Gavin DeRossi, Tiny Flea had been aptly named. Hovering somewhere between being classified as a town or a city, the place he had grown up was a blood-swollen parasite. It had latched onto the surface of his youth, sucking dry his aspirations and potential, leaving him nothing but a bloodless, lifeless host for the countless memories it had left him with. But oh, how he’d missed it.

TRANSCRIPT 2: Gregory wasn’t entirely sure what Graham’s condition was. Lying on his back on top of the bedcovers, he didn’t look obviously unwell. He wasn’t injured. He hadn’t thrown up. His face, however, was contorted in pain. He struggled and thrashed about in a pathetic sort of manner, like a weakened animal making a last-ditch effort to fight off its attackers. It was his eyes, however, which told Gregory that his father-in-law’s death was at hand. His eyes, normally a lively grey, were dull, staring lifelessly ahead at nothing. His body protested against his fate, but Gregory recognised that his eyes belonged to someone who knew that they were facing death head-on. He had seen those eyes once before.

TRANSCRIPT 3: He checked his wound one last time before going to sleep, and was satisfied. It no longer looked inflamed. Without a doubt, it would heal without much trouble at all. But the wound had already done its damage, regardless of whether it was infected or not, regardless of whether it healed cleanly or left a ragged scar. Unbeknownst to Craig, the larvae had already begun to move beneath the skin.

TAGLIST (ask to be added or removed): @aetherwrites @ljscrawls @chloeswords @avi-burton-writing @kitblogsthings @ravens-and-rivers @writerlywonders @alicewestwater @bookpacking @theelectricfactory @ryns-ramblings @alexsidereus @kowlazovdi @ezrathings @sunwornpages @bijouxs @pamsdrabbles @melpomeny @peepos-prose