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markpaleo.bsky.social
Mark Paleologopoulos
@markpaleo.bsky.social
640 followers 590 following 2.3K posts
Nearly-retired IT Professional and Curmudgeon
Registered Independent Political Consultant
Wokester
Fashionista
Author of Riverwalking - a Young Adult Fantasy Adventure Buddy Comedy that would be perfect for a major motion picture
https://www.markpaleo.com/
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markpaleo.bsky.social
Mark Paleologopoulos @markpaleo.bsky.social · Jan 20
And so it begins. January 20th MLK Day 2025. Trump will be replaced by Vance due to advanced dementia via 25th Amendment by June 2026. #Resistance
Trump is a cancer. Resist. Resist. Resist.
markpaleo.bsky.social
Wait, Megyn Kelly said it was okay for 50 year old men to sexually assault 15 year old girls? I thought it was R Kelly.
November 15, 2025 at 2:48 AM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
jesseduquette.bsky.social
The Patron Saints of Wraparound Oakleys and Indictable Hard Drives are having one helluva time right now
November 14, 2025 at 11:36 PM
markpaleo.bsky.social
This is AI food on haunted china
patriottakes.bsky.social PatriotTakes 🇺🇸 @patriottakes.bsky.social · 10h
A salad at Trump’s Mar-a-Lago country club
November 14, 2025 at 11:11 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
tarasgeir.bsky.social
For today’s #WIPSnips it’s what the anniversary surprise Gloria got for Isley. #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
November 14, 2025 at 9:34 AM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
smnortonwriter.bsky.social
Sorry for the delay! Been incredibly busy! But today, I have the #WIPSnips word of “week” #QueerFantasy #amwriting #writersky #LGBTQ
Excerpt from my WIP
November 14, 2025 at 2:39 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
hoodedfaybles.bsky.social
WIP for the next book after Turncoat Witches.
#WIPSnips word “steel" ~ Nov. 4 30
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
November 4, 2025 at 8:16 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
jundlife.bsky.social
I can use my Friday snip on Friday! Happy Friday y'all.
From "HatWIP"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
After five long days it is the end of the school week. We use the word Friday for this symbolic day of liberation, named after the Norse God Freyja or Frigg. I like Frigg. It’s funnier. Frigg off Friday.
November 14, 2025 at 9:52 AM
markpaleo.bsky.social
I'm Going Home from Woodstock is worth the 11:30 minutes of your time.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=2YB7...
Woodstock Ten Years After I'm Going HomeLive
YouTube video by RADIO CERO Online
www.youtube.com
November 14, 2025 at 7:30 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
danwoodswriter.bsky.social
The Company campus has closed seemingly overnight, the churning of the steel plant silenced. Something is terribly wrong, and Laetitia knows it...

Today's #WIPSnips #writingprompt is "week"!

Enjoy this snippet from "Where The Battle Is"

#WriteSky #Fiction #WritingCommunity #ReadSky
Screenshot of narrative text describing a character named Laetitia entering a dark office suite. The text details her discovering the electricity is cut, navigating the dim space, and finding her desk drawer emptied of years of employment documents including employee records and personal information. The word 'week' appears highlighted in gold/yellow. The passage conveys a sense of dread and urgency as she realizes she needs to leave immediately.
November 14, 2025 at 5:08 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
acturek.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #fantasy #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #week

Rush and Lara are going to have a Talk.
Rush’s brain is doing Rush’s brain things.

- Brother’s Keeper, book one of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
They skirted the lake's edge until it opened to the River, and as they picked their way along the bank, he stubbornly held his peace. She would have to begin, for she had imposed the silence between them. Not the strained, stilted ache of these passing minutes, but rather the long silence of WEEKs tense and drenched with the unsaid, heavy as a mudslide about to dislodge. Now that silence weighted his steps, sucking him into a morass of confusion. At times the aching sparkle of the River threatened to pull him free, and then a shaft of sunlight would set her hair afire. Just when he thought himself slain by the need to touch it, she veered from the sun-drizzled bank into the brooding Forest shadows. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
November 14, 2025 at 12:50 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
pjccahill.bsky.social
#WIPSnips - Demon King Daughter - the origin of Kyoka's exorcism work. Exorcism, in-setting, includes treatment of almost any curse or demonic effect.
#writesky #writingcommunity #fantasy #yafiction #demon #witch
-Print/eBook/KU: a.co/d/c4RtAOj
After a few of these events over the next couple of months, Masuyo enlisted Kiseki's help with setting up a kind of message board site. The 'little witch from the bar' could look into spiritual ailments, provided the need was serious, not a simple inconvenience. This also kept the path of least resistance for people seeking their aid away from trying to figure out where Kyoka and Masuyo actually lived. With the messaging page established, Masuyo or Kiseki escorted Kyoka to a couple of appointments each week. The results always shocked the patrons, who ran the full gamut from poor to influential, but Masuyo didn't want the service to get too popular either, so she always asked for them to keep it quiet. #WIPSnips a Bluesky Writing Community Tag Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social November 10th - November 16th. November 10 - local November 11 - burger November 12 - shirt November 13 - build November 14 - week November 15 - progress November 16 - run
November 14, 2025 at 2:05 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
jangoeswriting.bsky.social
Knitting skills and mythological creatures don’t mix …

From ‘Reign, Dear’.

#WiPSnips
“Oh, hey! That’s not fair!” The voice of the creature howled as Parsimony brought it closer to Boulder, who shook Dollop at it. “I’ve done my bit. By lore, you’re supposed to let me go!” The creature struggled, but Boulder would bet on Parsimony’s knitting skills over any possibly murderous fae creature any day of the week. Except Sundays. She never knitted on Sundays. There was always far too much to do. She held the creature in a tight grip and no matter how much he struggled, he wasn’t getting away from Boulder’s dear wife. He knew that feeling. Not that he had ever even considered getting away. Well, perhaps once, at eight years old, but it was surprising how fast an eight year old can accept the inevitability of a future marriage with the right kind of stare boring into him. Pippy had inherited that stare.
November 14, 2025 at 9:10 AM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
tlmatson.bsky.social
#WIPSnips -week
It had been weeks since I'd seen Nash & there should be no reason I couldn't stop thinking about the man. But he & his hot hands haunted my days and nights. And damn, his talented tongue.
It had also turned me into a stalker. A crazy creepy sex-starved stalker.
#spicy #romancebooks
November 14, 2025 at 1:46 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
jimthevampire.bsky.social
Little one today waiting to arrive after a long trip. Older piece. Needs work.

#WIPSnips
#WriteSky
#WritingCommunity
#WritingPrompts
#SciFiWriters
#sff
“Okay then. We are four weeks out now. I know everyone is itching to get groundside to get some real air, but it’s not too long to go. The Park has some real plants, so do spend some time there.” Elara wished she was in the park now, or even better, somewhere with a breeze created by real wind, not dusty old fans in rat filled vents. Feeling the growing heat, she unzipped the collar of her flight suit a little hand fanning some air on to her neck. The Bridge was too small for these gatherings, but the Captain liked the gravitas of it. McLellan halted for a moment. “In less enjoyable news, we are under orders to run another set of Insurance Scans.” There was a collective groan Alex rubbed his arm grimacing. Even Toren put a hand on his temple massaging an ache that hadn’t happened yet. Caul murmured, “So that’s me sick for the rest of the day then.” McLellan nodded in sympathy. “Nobody enjoys them, but we need to make sure we aren’t carrying anything harmful to the good people of Azazel. This is the last one. Get in there, get your brains mapped, blood sucked out and that’s it. Done. Doctor Golgi has promised to use the small needles.” He tried a smile that wasn’t reciprocated
November 14, 2025 at 8:37 AM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
adregem.bsky.social
I'm so happy to have a chance to use this snip ... It's one of my favorite early moments between Sunday and the king. #WIPSnips #WIP #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #Fantasy #FairyTale #Romantasy #AmQuerying
The Moth King is still looking at me. “What is your name?” “Sunday Hale.” He’s silent for a beat, then he says, “Like the day of the week?” This is how literally everyone responds when I say my name. Apparently, it is also how terrifying moth monsters respond when I say my name. Somehow, I manage to feel irritated even as my adrenal gland screams at me to get out of this place right now.
November 14, 2025 at 2:58 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
pauldixon.bsky.social
From Carpathians II. This is Anne Johnston, aka AJ, aka Anahita Jonestown, captain of the Accipiter.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
November 14, 2025 at 2:00 PM
markpaleo.bsky.social
#WIPSnips - week
November 14, 2025 at 2:52 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
camalin.net
Today's #WIPSnips entry from #Ellamir - my #JaneAusten X #Fantasy WIP - is the magical moment that we *almost* meet the Elves, feared and maligned by the townsfolk, as they create the perfect setting for Hannah & Maqine's #sapphic #romance to begin

#romantasy #fiction #IndieAuthors
The distant voices were swelling now in number and volume, some high, almost impossibly high, some deep and resonant. It was most unlike the singing of the congregation at the Lady's temple, far superior even to the choirs that sometimes accompanied Her Sunday devotions. It seemed of the landscape, evoking the trees and the river and the grass, and of the sky, carrying upon the light evening airs and welcoming the vast blue cloak of night that followed in the golden wake of the setting sun. The wind was dying away, and it seemed as if all the countryside had ceased its whispering to listen to the song of the elves: even the sheep had fallen quiet. "They were at it last week, too," said Maqine in a low voice, "but that was well after sunset, almost midnight. Probably singing to the stars: they love trees and stars most, you see. Come on, let's get a bit closer." Without Maqine's reassuring presence, Hannah would certainly have gone no further, but her new friend's authority on the matter of Elves was reassuring - she promised it was most unlikely that they would see one - so they left the silent sheep and set off slowly in the direction of the singing, which seemed to emanate from up where the deep green curtain of forest was draped over the northern slope of the valley. Hannah walked as if in a dream; she hardly dared breathe. It was as if the beauty and expressiveness of the words themselves, woven into such a haunting harmony, infused the landscape with a depth of colour that, rich as it already was, became so much richer. The countryside seemed to glow intensely with the golden solar rays, and then, as gold began to fade to evening grey, a flash of silver low on the horizon drew Hannah's gaze. A great star was rising, emerging from the last light of the dying day and flashing out brilliantly, just above the treetops. All at once, the song of the elves changed, becoming yet more complex and beautiful, a joyful hymn of celestial reverence.
November 14, 2025 at 8:44 AM
markpaleo.bsky.social
Per Encyclopedia Britannica:

The average MAGA cultist has 4,591 memes stored on their device because spelling is hard.
November 14, 2025 at 2:18 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
luckyludor.bsky.social
Squires doing the heavy lifting.
#WIPsnips #WIP #fantasy #characterart #ocart #WhiteCliff
Image of Sherman a dragonkin in golden armor wielding a maul. Text - Sherman stood on tippy toe and leaned to the side, but all he could see were the backs of squires and surrounding greenery. He hopped, “What is it? What's going on? Why did we stop.” “Shush,” replied the wolfkin next him, clawed finger to his muzzle. He was holding his other hand to his furry ear. It twitched. He looked down at Sherman and spoke in a low grumble, “We've come to the river. They're debating how to cross it.” “What do you think they're going to. . .” Sherman started to say, but the wolfkin held his finger up again. Sherman sighed. The wolfkin glared at him. A few tense moments later, a knight on a light grey horse came trotting by. He pulled the rein and brought his horse round, “Squires, get your tools, it's time to build a bridge. - You lot, come with me.” - The Fall of Ebonwald, White Cliff, Book 1
November 14, 2025 at 3:00 AM
markpaleo.bsky.social
How many Republican congresspeople will take their ill-gotten gains and flee the country when Trump is inevitably declared mentally unfit to serve as POTUS?
November 14, 2025 at 12:30 AM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
jesseduquette.bsky.social
Emails on an unsecured server > emails from an insecure pervert
November 13, 2025 at 11:18 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
mercymercury.bsky.social
If only we all remembered how terrifying teenage crushes were.

#TreetopHollow #WIPSNIPS #horrorwriters #booksky #writesky
It wasn't any set of features that made him so disarmingly attractive, as he stood there with his jacket held over his shoulder, and Lexi's poem in his other, outstretched hand. He held it with the delicate adoration of an autumn leaf. It was the synergy that radiated from the whole package of him. It was more than the touches of silver at the temples of his smooth dusky hair that flowed to his shoulders. Just like it was more than the way his glasses, pushed down his long nose, framed his piercing eyes like the works of art they were. He looked like a professor, a scientist, a tattooed academic who understood the raw, sexual truth of the world, from experience.  And that face! Ugh! It didn't matter how stupid and vapid the prose, if his face were on a romance novel, Lexi would order enough copies to build a bed of his visage to sleep on.  "Did you write this?" He asked. Lexi had been right about his voice, as it rumbled and whined in a way that Lexi could feel reverberating in her chest. It left her breathless.
November 13, 2025 at 7:48 PM
markpaleo.bsky.social
Trump has got to be heavily medicated right now. He hasn't brain-farted on TruthSocial all day.
November 13, 2025 at 10:52 PM
Reposted by Mark Paleologopoulos
pjccahill.bsky.social
#WIPSnips - Demon King Daughter - the little kernel that blooms into attraction for Kiseki toward Hasava. This is still early, and part of developing Kiseki's inner world for the reader.
#writesky #writingcommunity #fantasy #yafiction #demon #sapphic
-Print/eBook/KU: a.co/d/c4RtAOj
Kiseki thought more on Hasava as she left her work building. A little, reflexive smile unconsciously grew. Initially, Kiseki had been too scared to offend Kyoka or her 'general' to admit how scared she was. That faded quickly, however. Hasava had become her friend. Likely a one-sided friendship, Kiseki accepted that, but the warmth was welcome. Hasava was diligent and patient. She listened intently. The way Hasava looked into Kiseki's eyes was so clear in memory. It was almost piercing, but the pure fixation and focus in it -- after Kiseki's life of being ignored, shunned, and avoided -- was deeply affirming and soothing. #WIPSnips a Bluesky Writing Community Tag Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social November 10th - November 16th. November 10 - local November 11 - burger November 12 - shirt November 13 - build November 14 - week November 15 - progress November 16 - run
November 13, 2025 at 2:05 PM