Kurt Vonnegut: 16 Rules For Writing Fiction
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them — in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
9. Find a subject you care aboutand which you in your heart feel others should care about.
10. Do not ramble.
11. Keep it simple. Simplicity of language is not only reputable, but perhaps even sacred.
12. Have guts to cut. Your rule might be this: If a sentence, no matter how excellent, does not illuminate your subject in some new and useful way, scratch it out.
13. Sound like yourself. The writing style which is most natural for you is bound to echo the speech you heard when a child.
14. Say what you mean. You should avoid Picasso-style or jazz-style writing, if you have something worth saying and wish to be understood.
15. Pity the readers. Our stylistic options as writers are neither numerous nor glamorous, since our readers are bound to be such imperfect artists.
16. You choose. The most meaningful aspect of our styles, which is what we choose to write about, is utterly unlimited.
Don’t ever feel bad for making a decision that upsets other people. You are not responsible for their happiness. You are responsible for your happiness.
I see your shifting gaze, that disgusted glance. I know you’re questioning my parenting from across the elementary school assembly.
Let me tell you a little story about the kindergarten student with bright purple hair, my little Raven Marie…
A month before school started she decided to play hair stylist with the craft scissors, and to save what was left I had to opt for a pixie cut. She was absolutely devastated. It was about three hours before she stopped her harsh sobbing and hiccups.
She has thought that the length of a girls hair was what made her “girly”. I know I’ve personally had many hairstyles around her before, including a purple mohawk, which many people criticized as not being “girly” enough. Media, other children, other parents, and society made it worse. She would randomly burst in tears while out in public for the first week of her new style, screaming that she looked like a boy. That everyone would think she’s a boy.
At one point she took off her bow in her hair, threw it at a cashier and screamed, “I DON’T NEED THIS BOW TO TELL YOU THAT I’M NOT A BOY, BECAUSE I’M NOT”
Proudly stomping away in her blue jean overalls, head held high.
Once we edged closer to the first day of school she kept asking questions like, “Do you think the other kids will like me? Do you think they’ll be my friend? Will they think I’m a boy? Will they pick on me because I have boy hair?”
So I went to the grocery store, bought some dye, and spent the whole night transforming my bright blonde little girl into a plum punk rock fairy. I then assured her that if any of the kids didn’t like her, they were just jealous.
As for you, mothers and teachers with the wandering eyes filled with disgust and judgement, I’m in the business of raising a free spirit.
Here’s to you, Raven Marie. I love you.
Look at how fucking adorable that kid is holy fucking shit
Reblog this if you would buy a book with an LGBTQ main character, whose sexuality was not the primary focus of the novel
If you would not, reblog this.
reblogging because I wrote one of these… and if it wasn’t my book which I could get for free I would totally buy it
are you a boy? your clothes are boy clothes.
are you a girl? your clothes are girl clothes.
are you outside the binary of boy and girl? so are your clothes.
did someone just tell you your clothes don’t match your gender identity? they are a trashcan and their clothes are trashcan clothes.
Or in the words of Eddie Izzard..
Because this cannot be reblogged enough.
Screaming silently in adoration