K.L. Jones
@kljoneswrites.bsky.social
Author & bookwyrm. Neurospicy & chronic pain warrior.
Will post cooking & cat pics.
Books, video games, anime, and Jim Henson are my happy places.
Current WIP: Labyrinth x Silent Hill
Will post cooking & cat pics.
Books, video games, anime, and Jim Henson are my happy places.
Current WIP: Labyrinth x Silent Hill
Pinned
K.L. Jones
@kljoneswrites.bsky.social
· Oct 19
A little about me: I love cooking, drawing, painting, reading, writing, animals, music, and video games.
I'm currently editing my Labyrinth meets Silent Hill dark fantasy WIP, so I'll be posting my favourite excerpts from each editing session! I hope you'll enjoy them! 🥰
I'm currently editing my Labyrinth meets Silent Hill dark fantasy WIP, so I'll be posting my favourite excerpts from each editing session! I hope you'll enjoy them! 🥰
Hey, everyone! I'm back, I think! Imposter syndrome got me and I haven't written since 2024. 😅My pretend worlds felt hopeless, pointless, worthless. But I've been reading a lot and I've decided it's finally time to try writing again. Maybe with time, my stories will regain their shine. 👍
May 18, 2025 at 8:14 PM
Hey, everyone! I'm back, I think! Imposter syndrome got me and I haven't written since 2024. 😅My pretend worlds felt hopeless, pointless, worthless. But I've been reading a lot and I've decided it's finally time to try writing again. Maybe with time, my stories will regain their shine. 👍
A lot on my mind this weekend, but as long as there are words on the page, it's progress!
Today's excerpt: And I wait for his next retort, or the next touch from hands that are surely grave-cold, maybe stiff and leathery, a whole year degraded and melting from the bone.
Today's excerpt: And I wait for his next retort, or the next touch from hands that are surely grave-cold, maybe stiff and leathery, a whole year degraded and melting from the bone.
November 23, 2024 at 6:51 PM
A lot on my mind this weekend, but as long as there are words on the page, it's progress!
Today's excerpt: And I wait for his next retort, or the next touch from hands that are surely grave-cold, maybe stiff and leathery, a whole year degraded and melting from the bone.
Today's excerpt: And I wait for his next retort, or the next touch from hands that are surely grave-cold, maybe stiff and leathery, a whole year degraded and melting from the bone.
It's been a stressful week, but despite my scattered brain, my fingers are still on the keys. ❤️
Today's excerpt:
“You’re dead,” I say, like reminding him will remove him.
He laughs at that, though his lungs are starved. “Not while you’re around.”
Today's excerpt:
“You’re dead,” I say, like reminding him will remove him.
He laughs at that, though his lungs are starved. “Not while you’re around.”
November 22, 2024 at 8:12 PM
It's been a stressful week, but despite my scattered brain, my fingers are still on the keys. ❤️
Today's excerpt:
“You’re dead,” I say, like reminding him will remove him.
He laughs at that, though his lungs are starved. “Not while you’re around.”
Today's excerpt:
“You’re dead,” I say, like reminding him will remove him.
He laughs at that, though his lungs are starved. “Not while you’re around.”
Reposted by K.L. Jones
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
November 22, 2024 at 12:35 PM
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
Audiobooks count as reading.
This a long shot, but there's a pretty good chance I'm going to get laid off from my marketing job. Does anyone here know of any remote entry-level/year-ish of experience positions in publishing? I'm based in Canada and am physically disabled, so I find I do my best work from home.
November 22, 2024 at 2:28 PM
This a long shot, but there's a pretty good chance I'm going to get laid off from my marketing job. Does anyone here know of any remote entry-level/year-ish of experience positions in publishing? I'm based in Canada and am physically disabled, so I find I do my best work from home.
Today's excerpt:
I try to forget the shadow, but the details keep filling in.
The dirty blonde of his tousled hair, the slate of his suit, the rings on his fingers, the mud under his nails, the cuts on his cheeks—his every detail the same as when they’d pulled his body from the tree.
I try to forget the shadow, but the details keep filling in.
The dirty blonde of his tousled hair, the slate of his suit, the rings on his fingers, the mud under his nails, the cuts on his cheeks—his every detail the same as when they’d pulled his body from the tree.
November 16, 2024 at 7:55 PM
Today's excerpt:
I try to forget the shadow, but the details keep filling in.
The dirty blonde of his tousled hair, the slate of his suit, the rings on his fingers, the mud under his nails, the cuts on his cheeks—his every detail the same as when they’d pulled his body from the tree.
I try to forget the shadow, but the details keep filling in.
The dirty blonde of his tousled hair, the slate of his suit, the rings on his fingers, the mud under his nails, the cuts on his cheeks—his every detail the same as when they’d pulled his body from the tree.
Reposted by K.L. Jones
What if, instead of trying to have a productive writing day, you aimed for a satisfying one instead?
November 16, 2024 at 2:40 PM
What if, instead of trying to have a productive writing day, you aimed for a satisfying one instead?
Happy weekend, everyone! It's the end of another workweek for me and I'm excited to get back to my writing. This story's been coming together slowly in my mind and conceptually it's really taking shape; just a matter of getting it down now. When in doubt, give yourself time and grace. It'll come.
November 16, 2024 at 4:34 PM
Happy weekend, everyone! It's the end of another workweek for me and I'm excited to get back to my writing. This story's been coming together slowly in my mind and conceptually it's really taking shape; just a matter of getting it down now. When in doubt, give yourself time and grace. It'll come.
Another victory today: words on the page.
Today's excerpt: Best I can do is strain my eyes through the mist and find one of the gravel or dirt-patch pull-offs and wait for this to pass us by—as quickly as it came on, with any luck. If Miriam won’t listen to me, then I’ll let the passengers say it.
Today's excerpt: Best I can do is strain my eyes through the mist and find one of the gravel or dirt-patch pull-offs and wait for this to pass us by—as quickly as it came on, with any luck. If Miriam won’t listen to me, then I’ll let the passengers say it.
November 11, 2024 at 6:09 PM
Another victory today: words on the page.
Today's excerpt: Best I can do is strain my eyes through the mist and find one of the gravel or dirt-patch pull-offs and wait for this to pass us by—as quickly as it came on, with any luck. If Miriam won’t listen to me, then I’ll let the passengers say it.
Today's excerpt: Best I can do is strain my eyes through the mist and find one of the gravel or dirt-patch pull-offs and wait for this to pass us by—as quickly as it came on, with any luck. If Miriam won’t listen to me, then I’ll let the passengers say it.
Reposted by K.L. Jones
Use you library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
November 10, 2024 at 4:05 PM
Use you library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
Use your library
A smaller editing session today, but still feeling successful:
Magic’s sweetness is further smothered by fuel and cigarette smoke the longer we drive here, and it’s wrong—like there’s nothing left untarnished, no air left to breathe. Smirks curve in the rear-view and Miriam sharpens her glare.
Magic’s sweetness is further smothered by fuel and cigarette smoke the longer we drive here, and it’s wrong—like there’s nothing left untarnished, no air left to breathe. Smirks curve in the rear-view and Miriam sharpens her glare.
November 10, 2024 at 11:07 PM
A smaller editing session today, but still feeling successful:
Magic’s sweetness is further smothered by fuel and cigarette smoke the longer we drive here, and it’s wrong—like there’s nothing left untarnished, no air left to breathe. Smirks curve in the rear-view and Miriam sharpens her glare.
Magic’s sweetness is further smothered by fuel and cigarette smoke the longer we drive here, and it’s wrong—like there’s nothing left untarnished, no air left to breathe. Smirks curve in the rear-view and Miriam sharpens her glare.
Reposted by K.L. Jones
As bsky grows in popularity and while tensions are high—PLEASE be kind to each other. Please ask questions if something isn’t clear or doesn’t sound right, etc rather than jumping straight to judgment. Please assume the people who share your values are acting in good faith and doing their best.
November 7, 2024 at 6:50 PM
As bsky grows in popularity and while tensions are high—PLEASE be kind to each other. Please ask questions if something isn’t clear or doesn’t sound right, etc rather than jumping straight to judgment. Please assume the people who share your values are acting in good faith and doing their best.
Today's excerpt:
It smells like easier days of grasses without fear of ticks or needles. It smells like when things were okay, and my legs moved unfettered by ache and pain, my youth so close I could climb inside, zip myself tight, and pretend I was myself again.
It smells like easier days of grasses without fear of ticks or needles. It smells like when things were okay, and my legs moved unfettered by ache and pain, my youth so close I could climb inside, zip myself tight, and pretend I was myself again.
November 8, 2024 at 5:05 PM
Today's excerpt:
It smells like easier days of grasses without fear of ticks or needles. It smells like when things were okay, and my legs moved unfettered by ache and pain, my youth so close I could climb inside, zip myself tight, and pretend I was myself again.
It smells like easier days of grasses without fear of ticks or needles. It smells like when things were okay, and my legs moved unfettered by ache and pain, my youth so close I could climb inside, zip myself tight, and pretend I was myself again.
Please be kind to yourselves. Examine what you need, wrap yourself in grace and kindness, and don't pressure yourself to be creative right now. Use it as an outlet for all this... everything, but if you need time, take it. You're going through so much right now. I see you and I'm so sorry.
November 8, 2024 at 12:54 PM
Please be kind to yourselves. Examine what you need, wrap yourself in grace and kindness, and don't pressure yourself to be creative right now. Use it as an outlet for all this... everything, but if you need time, take it. You're going through so much right now. I see you and I'm so sorry.
Another scene done today! My favourite part is how the chapter ends:
My heart thuds an ache into my chest.
Hours. Only hours. That’s all someone has left.
My heart thuds an ache into my chest.
Hours. Only hours. That’s all someone has left.
November 1, 2024 at 4:21 PM
Another scene done today! My favourite part is how the chapter ends:
My heart thuds an ache into my chest.
Hours. Only hours. That’s all someone has left.
My heart thuds an ache into my chest.
Hours. Only hours. That’s all someone has left.
I hope everyone had a fun Halloween! My household's tradition is to make dinner together: empanadas and butternut squash soup. It's so fun to spend quality time with everyone, working together to make delicious food. How do you spend Halloween?
November 1, 2024 at 2:35 PM
I hope everyone had a fun Halloween! My household's tradition is to make dinner together: empanadas and butternut squash soup. It's so fun to spend quality time with everyone, working together to make delicious food. How do you spend Halloween?
Exhausted, but I got some writing done! Meet Miriam, my novel's tour guide diva:
Miriam’s always the last to board, a vision in plaid and gemstones with her purple-grey hair piled tall. Striding high on heels, she sweeps past me in a perfume cloud to smother her last smoke.
Miriam’s always the last to board, a vision in plaid and gemstones with her purple-grey hair piled tall. Striding high on heels, she sweeps past me in a perfume cloud to smother her last smoke.
October 27, 2024 at 8:30 PM
Exhausted, but I got some writing done! Meet Miriam, my novel's tour guide diva:
Miriam’s always the last to board, a vision in plaid and gemstones with her purple-grey hair piled tall. Striding high on heels, she sweeps past me in a perfume cloud to smother her last smoke.
Miriam’s always the last to board, a vision in plaid and gemstones with her purple-grey hair piled tall. Striding high on heels, she sweeps past me in a perfume cloud to smother her last smoke.
Uh-oh. Scrivener froze when I tried to save and it isn't un-freezing. Fellow writers, I think I need some good energy. 😨
October 27, 2024 at 8:14 PM
Uh-oh. Scrivener froze when I tried to save and it isn't un-freezing. Fellow writers, I think I need some good energy. 😨
Another good day of edits, even though I started late:
I’m in Grandma’s garden again, in the shade of hawthorn boughs. Foxgloves look like fairy hats and hot tea patters at the bottom of a willow pattern cup. Then the memory is gone, replaced by stain-splattered posters.
I’m in Grandma’s garden again, in the shade of hawthorn boughs. Foxgloves look like fairy hats and hot tea patters at the bottom of a willow pattern cup. Then the memory is gone, replaced by stain-splattered posters.
October 26, 2024 at 7:31 PM
Another good day of edits, even though I started late:
I’m in Grandma’s garden again, in the shade of hawthorn boughs. Foxgloves look like fairy hats and hot tea patters at the bottom of a willow pattern cup. Then the memory is gone, replaced by stain-splattered posters.
I’m in Grandma’s garden again, in the shade of hawthorn boughs. Foxgloves look like fairy hats and hot tea patters at the bottom of a willow pattern cup. Then the memory is gone, replaced by stain-splattered posters.
Reposted by K.L. Jones
Anyone who says authors shouldn’t promote their own books knows nothing about how publishing works
October 26, 2024 at 11:52 AM
Anyone who says authors shouldn’t promote their own books knows nothing about how publishing works
Reposted by K.L. Jones
It's wild seeing creators popping off now that they are posting on Blue Sky. It's very clear that this platform is better for engagement. You love to see it.
a close up of a man 's face with a smile on his face .
ALT: a close up of a man 's face with a smile on his face .
media.tenor.com
October 26, 2024 at 6:44 PM
It's wild seeing creators popping off now that they are posting on Blue Sky. It's very clear that this platform is better for engagement. You love to see it.
Today's edits are going well so far! Here's a passage I liked:
I shrug. “Sorry,” I say bitterly, timidness a curse in how it warps my words. My skin’s too tight with sudden heat. My sensible jacket smothers. I resist the urge to rip it off as I pressure cook and try to remember how to breathe.
I shrug. “Sorry,” I say bitterly, timidness a curse in how it warps my words. My skin’s too tight with sudden heat. My sensible jacket smothers. I resist the urge to rip it off as I pressure cook and try to remember how to breathe.
October 25, 2024 at 6:36 PM
Today's edits are going well so far! Here's a passage I liked:
I shrug. “Sorry,” I say bitterly, timidness a curse in how it warps my words. My skin’s too tight with sudden heat. My sensible jacket smothers. I resist the urge to rip it off as I pressure cook and try to remember how to breathe.
I shrug. “Sorry,” I say bitterly, timidness a curse in how it warps my words. My skin’s too tight with sudden heat. My sensible jacket smothers. I resist the urge to rip it off as I pressure cook and try to remember how to breathe.