Aldwin Beckett
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aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Aldwin Beckett
@aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
150 followers 180 following 110 posts
I'm writing sapphic fiction.
Sapphic romance novel Souvienne is out: http://mybook.to/souvienne

https://linktr.ee/aldwin.beckett
https://aldwinbeckett.me
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aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
👩 two women
🐈‍⬛ fluffy cat
🏡 wooden shack
🌲 woods and mountains

270 pages of Scottish wilderness, warm vibes, sweet reverie, care and French chants—all that to find out that in the end love wins.

mybook.to/souvienne

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Debut #SelfPub #Authors #BookBirthday
Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
November 24, 2025 at 3:00 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra gets fancy.

Just 12 days till you'll be able to read it! Ebook preorder is open and hardcover is scheduled for release.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Time for a change,” I declared, dropping my backpack and flinging open the wardrobe. “And then dinner! Let’s get a little fancy. I was wearing pants and shirts long enough to get into a dress.” Sou pouted slightly. “I have no dress.” “Nonsense!” I scoffed, rifling through hangers until I unearthed a blue frock from my youth. Petite as she was, it would fit her like a glove. “Arms up! Let’s see…” She wrinkled her nose at the lavender scent. “Bit snug in the chest, but otherwise?” Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
November 12, 2025 at 6:39 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Now it's for real.

👩 two women
🐈‍⬛ fluffy cat
🏡 wooden shack
🗻 mountains
🌲 forest

Some love.
Some madness.
Some waltz under the lone tree.

Ebook: mybook.to/souvienne
Hardcover available at 24th.

It's been quite a ride.

#art #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Debut #SelfPub #Authors
Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range. To those who, at least once in their lives, yearned to abandon the world and vanish into the quiet embrace of a forest hut. 1. Things to Escape From Looking back, I can only marvel at the extraordinary coincidences that conspired to bring me face-to-face with Souvienne on a bleak, snowy eve in January of 1967, amidst the foothills of Strath Fillan. Three months prior, I took my first step off the train that had left me alone on the small, narrow platform nestled between two tracks.
November 12, 2025 at 1:29 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra lives her best first days at her new forest home.

(chapter 1: Things to Escape From)

(Nov 5: trail) #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The night forest transformed into an enchanted realm beneath the lantern light, leaves whispering secrets in the night breeze, though their meaning remained elusive. The stream I hopped over with ease in the daylight, appeared a dark, roaring torrent plunging into the valley’s depths in the deep shadows. At one point I almost got lost in between the labyrinthine shrubs, and panic rushed through me, until I saw a glimpse of the trail between bushes. Now it’s just a pass, I thought, exhaling the relief. True, soon enough I saw the house waiting for me. Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
November 5, 2025 at 9:53 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra observes the view from above.

(btw the book will be available in three weeks from now; I'll keep you posted)

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The train sounded its approach long before it came into view, a strange quirk of nature’s acoustics carried the rumble far and wide. The metal serpent rounded the hill and crawled towards the platform with ponderous grace. Several figures alighted from its carriages, appearing as nothing more than moving specks from my vantage point. Mere minutes later, the train rolled on, its clamour fading as it disappeared from view—and with its passing, that same profound silence descended upon the valley once more, a familiar hush now, barely registering in my ears save for the conscious effort to listen, to parse all that it held: the gentle murmur of water spilling over stone, the soft crunch of snow beneath my feet, the whispering sighs of the wind. Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
November 4, 2025 at 3:40 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Deirdre finds her poncho (and since then she always wear ponchos)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
“I thought witches wear robes,” Gwyn remarked, as they combed through the parallel aisles of the clothing store like two combine harvesters in a field. “They do.” Dei rustled something that shushed with a whispering sound. “A dress is permitted, provided it is black. But personally, I believe—” She paused, fishing out a short, shimmering something, snorted, and returned it to its place. “—the choice is a poncho.” “If there are witches in Mexico, they wear ponchos for sure.” “Do witches exist in Mexico, though?” “By the way.” Gwyn perched on tiptoe, peering over the clothing row at her. “I’ve just found a nice poncho. Care to take a look?”
October 6, 2025 at 6:04 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Sara gets on a hunt.

Even though the main book isn't even started to be written, I'm already thinking about the continuation. This is Tiny Tea Book, a stories that happens after Gwyn and Dei story.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Sara had been a disaster since birth. No matter what she tried, everything fell apart despite her relentless effort. By twenty-five, she had a menial job, a cramped dorm room, no future, and a single, foolish dream she’d never shared with anyone. She knew she was meant for something greater. Sara would never forget the day two young women approached her on the street. The blonde began explaining something about “abilities” and “potential”—Sara was lost in an instant. The dark-haired one cut her off and turned to Sara with a simple question: “Want to be a witch?” If it wasn’t a something greater, then what was? After that, everything changed. A strange cosy house on Margit Island that seem to be growing by itself; a bedroom barely larger than her dorm room, but warm and inviting; a library of strange, forbidden books; classes that stretched from morning to night… And now, two years later, she was on her first solo journey: Sara, like all the other trainees of Deirdre, was on a hunt. For books.
October 5, 2025 at 7:11 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Gwyneth makes a decision.

(with that rate, I'll write all the interesting parts in no time)

#whistpr #WritingPrompt #WritingCommunity
With absolute clarity, Gwyneth realised that the moment she’d been dreaming of all this time had arrived: the chance to drop everything and simply live the way she’d always wanted; but why was it so bitter? It’s so simple. Tell them: go home, the fairy tale is over. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Alicia, a word.” Behind the library door, Gwyneth lowered her voice. “Keep the girls occupied.” “I can’t—I mean, without—“ “You can.” She surprised herself at how firmly she sounded. “Debes, ergo potes, Alicia. We’re all entangled now, you know? Go on, keep them busy with something useful.” The fairy lightly clapped the witch on the shoulder. “And I’ll go straighten out our dear Deirdre.” Easy to say.
October 3, 2025 at 10:03 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Deirdre finds out more about fairies and puts her Veil training to a good use.

(trying not to make any (big) spoilers)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
“Oh, now I understand,” Deirdre studied something ahead, warming her hands under her poncho. Gwyn saw absolutely nothing special except the cliff houses she’d already seen. “What’s there?” “A Veil, a classier one than ours.” The witch freed her hands, spread them wide, and Gwyn thought she almost heard a heavy hum, like a huge string… and then everything went silent. “Well, that’s it. Hibernation.” Deirdre turned to her. “I could have left it as is; the locals don’t come here, but let’s do it according to the rules. You put the house to sleep too, when we left.” “That’s different.” She swallowed hard, remembering. “I had to. When a fairy leaves her house, it dies.” …the houses sank into the ground… …drowned…
October 3, 2025 at 8:50 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Gwyneth loves water running through her beloved Budapest.

(at this point I'm writing random snippets, but the outline is almost done)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
Gwyn was silent for a long time, and it seemed to Deirdre that she would never speak again, but she finally woke from her daydream. “The river flows, and it doesn’t care about us, you know? There were no people, no witches, no mermaids, no one else, but it ran here, carefree water. People put the river into a concrete bed, crossed it with bridges, and it still flows.” Fairy stared at the water again. “Someday we’ll be gone, but it will still flow. Our girls will come to this place and look at the water like we do. Chin up, Dei. Let’s get to work, we only have a couple of centuries left.” “Gwyn, you’ve grown up.” Deirdre glanced at her sideways. “I can’t grow up. I’m a fairy, remember?”
October 1, 2025 at 7:45 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Deirdre finds Gwyneth's tea supply.

Something from my next writing. Rest assured there will be a lot of tea parties, because, you see... Gwyn loves tea. She also loves folk music, but it's a very different story.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
She found the kitchen next. Scents of cooking lingered in the air, and she sensed the place had been used often, with energy and care. She peeked into the cupboards, curious, but found nothing unusual—until she reached the last one by the door, a floor-to-ceiling double-doored unit, opened it and froze. Dozens of glass jars, neatly arranged in square compartments, stared back at her, each labeled in tiny, precise handwriting: Assam, Chamomile, Darjeeling, Earl Grey... “You’ve found my great secret,” Gwyneth said with joyful tease, somehow sneaked at her. Deirdre jumped, slamming the cupboard shut. “S-sorry—” “Curiosity isn’t a sin,” the fairy said, entering the kitchen and heading to fill up the kettle. “Bear with me, I’m a tea addict.” “No, really, I shouldn’t have been rummaging around like I was at home,” Deirdre said, feeling awkward. Gwyneth lit the stove, set the kettle on, and turned to her. “Make yourself at home. There’s plenty of space here for me alone.”
September 29, 2025 at 5:40 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra wakes up her girl with questionable outcome.

(in the meantime, edits are done and I'm ordering the proof copy soon)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
“Wake up, sweetheart,” I chirped, gently tugging the blanket from her head.
 She muttered something grumpy and unintelligible, clearly not eager to leave the warm cocoon of sleep just yet. 
I left her to doze for a few more minutes while I splashed some water on my face and shook off the last vestiges of slumber. When I returned to the bedside, one eye peeked out at me balefully, as if daring me to disturb her peaceful reverie. I held back a smile as she looked so comical, all rumpled and sleep-tousled, peering at me from under the blanket like an annoyed little owl. Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range. Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
September 24, 2025 at 8:58 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Share your favourite black and white movie
Coffee and Cigarettes, 2003
September 24, 2025 at 1:21 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
September 20, 2025 at 6:04 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
A very old one, translated from the other language, and turned out surprisingly well. Oddly rhyming and rhythmic: try to mentally break every line, sometimes in the middle, sometimes... you'll get it.

No meaning intended.
Just an old poem.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #poetry
All goes by of how are you just missing a beat, missing train, missing keys from the exit of here and that’s it. Planetarium fully deserted in dreams, waterfall smoothed out, napping stars by the dome. Why you’re standing in silence, forgotten parole, carved out on skin, hidden under the blouse? Sharpen knife, and forget and invent a new word for the fence, so the wolves unable to step in to rob the wagon. Silence! Listen not to the heather song, listen not to the kindling smoke. We are walking, laying in chain in the bushes. Ouroboros, his tail is eaten and cooked in the pot; and the fire now slumbering slowly in pit. And Atlantis is real, but the guiding stars all are gone, which could lead us, and the soles worn out again, so you wait, and sharpen these sounds of knives: we’re descending to heaven, frozen down and out of lights.
September 16, 2025 at 7:54 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra remembers.

(to read more of this, stay tuned)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
Setting the manuscript aside for a moment, I rested my head on my folded arms and allowed myself to drift into reverie—or perhaps it was more of a fever dream?—recalling those wondrous moments that now felt so distant and irretrievable. Time marched relentlessly forward, carrying with it all the cherished memories that could never be reclaimed, leaving behind only an aching void where they had been.
 For others, good or bad, hatred and tears 
Have become indolent; but touching thine,
 One sigh doth echo, one poor sob doth pine,
 One kiss brings honey-dew 
from buried days. 
I hadn’t a clue what was going on in Souvienne’s mind back then… and to be honest, things weren’t much clearer now. But I did know that we had found each other at just the right moment—a time when both of us desperately needed an escape from our previous lives. Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
September 15, 2025 at 1:06 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra gets trapped.

Book is getting published (expect to read others not-so-cool-and-exciting parts mid-October)

#whistpr #WritingPrompt #WritingCommunity
“Sweet.” The ice let out a dull ringing sound as I tapped it half-heartedly with my axe blade. “Well, that’s just wonderful.” The sarcasm in my voice dripped with quinine bitterness.
 No letters from Souvienne. No way to get out if I need to. I was well and truly stranded here, like a castaway on some remote desert island. My supplies would last until spring and boredom wasn’t likely to kill me—but still, the realisation stung.
 I punched the ice with my fist in anger and hissed in pain.
September 14, 2025 at 7:22 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
From the spooky Christmas story that never seen a light (maybe one day I'll edit and publish it)

It's about two girls spending Christmas night in the old tower-hunter lodge and telling each other spooky stories. This one—a reminiscence of Prague Golem.

#WritingPrompt
He arrived in Pilsner and spent the night there, managing only a few restless hours of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the building seemed to shudder under the weight of the Golem’s slow, heavy steps. From there, he fled to Linz, then deeper into the woods, away from all signs of life, until he stumbled upon an abandoned hunter’s lodge. There, he found refuge. For the first few days, everything felt manageable—the food stores were ample, and he resolved to stay another week or two to steady himself before returning to Prague. At the end of the second week, the lodge trembled again. The door creaked open, revealing a towering, shapeless figure frozen on the threshold. Gavrel was never seen again.
September 13, 2025 at 5:29 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
The whole book vibes is condensed right here: Virginia and Olivia teasing each other. Rest assured Olivia will call her Ginger from now on.

(man I want to publish Souvienne so hard so I can start promoting my next WIP 24/7, it's so fun)

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
“Liv-Olive,” I called. “What kind of bird is there?” 
“How did you call me?!” Olivia propped herself up on one elbow, her brows furrowed—but I could see the corners of her lips lift. “Show me your bird.”
 “It’s not mine,” I pointed at the train window. “Over there in the leaves.”
 She sat straight and squinted, then pulled out a device that turned out to be a silvery pocket telescope, decorated with engravings; the metal had darkened with age.
“Testing me? My Grandpa gave it to me as a gift,” she explained, peering. “Accipiter nisus… ahem, sparrow hawk. He was a sailor.”
 “Who, a hawk?” I couldn’t help myself and was granted a brief, sharp glance. 
“Grandpa. He seemed to be the only one in the family who supported me when I gave up a supposedly promising marriage in order to study at university.” Olivia folded the telescope and put it back in her pocket. “Poor fella.”
 “Who, Grandpa?”
 She let out a guttural growl. “Hawk! He’s molting. It’s fine, though.” 
Lying back down on the bunk, she chuckled. “Liv was my family nickname, but no one had ever thought to rhyme it with Olive. And I suppose yours was Gin?”
 “Ginger.”
 “Oh!” Olivia looked at me. “Makes total sense.” 
I found myself reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear before catching her amused gaze and pulling my hands back down, blushing.
September 13, 2025 at 7:47 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cover reveal cause I guess no better time than now.

A few months of work are right here, in this hand-drawn cover with faux fabric spine. Wish I had proof-copy to show up everything, oh well.

More of what, when and where to read—in the thread below. ↴

[💙📚] #art #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
Cover of Souvienne by Aldwin Beckett. The cover shows the meadow with the tree in the centre with two female silhouettes on the both sides, looking at each other. On the background there are pine trees and mountain range.
September 12, 2025 at 6:35 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra gets a warning.

(I must stop throwing snippets and publish the damn book already)

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Was it really that bad?” 
Souvienne met my gaze over the rim of her cup. “You hurt me,” she said softly but firmly. “And even though I forgive you—at the end of the day, I was at fault too—I can’t guarantee that I won’t hurt you back just as badly someday… and the worst part is, I’m not even sure if it would be deliberate.” 
I was to remember these words of hers more than once in the following days.
September 12, 2025 at 1:34 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
You absolutely can start the story with the character waking up and/or looking into the mirror. Just find a way to make it fun.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity
Alice rushed to the bathroom mirror the moment she woke, her irritation flaring as she discovered the horns she’d once hidden in her hair could no longer be concealed. She knew what it meant: a call from Hell’s HR department was imminent. Her vacation was ending. She didn’t want to go to Hell. She wanted a normal man. And a dress.
September 11, 2025 at 6:08 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Virginia gets her dress.

WIP: Winds of Tomorrow Will Blow Tomorrow

#whistpr
My sister loved dressing up (there was no denying it), but she mostly wore thrift-shop clothes, as she explained: it’s not about money, just that I could find something truly unusual. Her favourite saying was: “And when I saw it, I knew: it’s mine.” When I saw that dress, I knew. Mine. Red—of a shade I couldn’t quite describe: not crimson, not bright red, not pink, not blood-red, but simply red as I’d imagined red should be. A hem below the knee, sheer lace at the bottom, a buttoned bodice, sleeves neither too long nor too short, a lace belt sewn in, all in good cotton. “Ohh,” I said, my voice tinged with involuntary admiration. “Indeed,” Amalia agreed. “Try it on.”
September 11, 2025 at 6:36 AM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
Cassandra has her share of nightly reflections.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
What had Souvienne been like before losing her memories? The woman sleeping beside me was an enigma—a mysterious lady in mysterious circumstances whose true identity remained as elusive as the wind outside our cosy cabin.
 I could only speculate. 
It was January of ’67, and everything was just beginning.
September 10, 2025 at 2:00 PM
aldwinbeckett.bsky.social
From my current almost-to-be-published novel Souvienne.

Cassandra has a secret.

#WritingPrompt #WIP
“Go ahead, tell me what exactly makes me so amazing.”
 “Well, at least the fact that you kiss a girl as if it’s not the first time you kiss a girl!”
 “Oh dear.” 
“There is… something I don’t know? Cass?” Sou looked into my face.
 “Ohh my dear.” I drew her near; that first kiss made me tipsy enough to erode much of my self-restraint. “Do you recall my telling you I was not so prim and proper prior to meeting Richard?”
September 10, 2025 at 6:39 AM