Lightnews — Scholar-powered news

Prof Emily

@professoremily.bsky.social

#Writevember Nov 22

Well I started out this month intending to work on #Charagma, & wrote about 25K words!

... Then my muse decided we needed to write #Tenement instead - 11K words! 😅

Unfortunately all the Tenement bits are SPOILERS, so here's the last bit I wrote from Charagma instead:

“Blake,” he repeated, then gave an odd humorless chuckle. “Sorry—I know it must be a common name, so this is probably silly. But... you’re not...?” He cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to the Shepherd Elisgood Blake? The one they called Twoholder?”

Ah, so that was it. Mem should have guessed. Of course he’d already heard of her father. Everyone had heard of her father. It must have been quite a shock to realize the girl you’d been getting to know all night was the daughter of a celebrity.

“He’s... my father, actually,” she said reluctantly. When she saw the shadow in Light’s expression grow darker, she started to panic. “But it really isn’t anything to make a fuss about. He’s a completely normal person, I swear. And I’m sure he’d like you very much.”

Light didn’t say anything for a few moments, which only made her panic worse. He stared at the ground, his thoughts completely unreadable. She waited anxiously for him to speak—to tell her it was fine, to smile again. When he didn’t, she asked in a burst, “You still want to meet later today, don’t you?”

The question shook Light out of wherever his mind had gone. He looked up at her again. Smiled, just like she’d hoped he would. But there was a trace of falseness in it now that she didn’t understand.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you there later.”

“You didn’t tell me your last name either,” she pointed out as he began to turn away.

He glanced back. “Bradstreet. Light Bradstreet. Good night, Mem.”

Then he strode off down the street at a brisk pace, vanishing into the other shadows. Mem lingered on the threshold, watching even long after he was gone from her sight, a faint quake of dark premonition shaking the foundation of her soul.

November 22, 2025 at 3:09 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Samantha Breaux

@woodenvelt.bsky.social

#Bookvember 20: This trope is a staple of the fantasy genre, so I have several favs, but, I am going to go with a less well known one. Skeeve in the Myth series goes from awkward apprentice to leader and mentor with lots of growing pains along the way.

#BookSky #WriteSky #Books #WritingCommunity

A book cover for Robert Asprin's novel Another Fine Myth. It shows a group of people walking down a dirt road with a forest and mountain behind them. The people from left to right are a busty woman with green hair and a skimpy dress, a green scaled demon with point ears, horns, and a tiny loincloth, and a blonde human in brown medieval clothes. A small black dragon walks beside the young man.

November 22, 2025 at 1:55 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Alyssa Lauseng 🐉🩸🔪

@5feetofredfury.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #writingprompt

Somewhere between book 3 and book 4. I'm not sure yet, but
🥰🥰🤭

Though in the privacy of their room with the guqin playing softly from afar, when Daisuke looped a necklace with a shard of rose quartz around Obito’s neck with trembling hands, then dipped his head so his partner could do the same, it only seemed right to trade at least one of the three ceremonial bows—the one meant for each other. No blessing that would never come was needed from their families, no promise that they’d never keep made to the heavens; only the truth about how they felt for one another mattered. A union, but without the baggage of marriage.

November 22, 2025 at 1:26 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Ray Ingles

@ringles.bsky.social

#WIPSnips 22: crystal

Jim can't explain how the RFID chips in his wallet work. But the engineers in the alternate timeline are quite competent.

#SciFi #ScienceFiction

Saloro spoke, slowly. “Those ‘[chips]’… I think I understand how they were made.” A snort. “Not all of it. But they are built with many microscopic layers of silicon, with various impurities. In extremely small, precise concentrations.” A flick of her hand, a tiny spark. “I believe they start with a completely pure crystal. They build on it, layer by layer. With chemical baths… and patterns of light.” She got technical, but the others seemed to follow.

November 22, 2025 at 2:22 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Zed Prospero

@zprospero.bsky.social

#WIPSnips

You don't always need a crystal ball to be clairvoyant.

Virgil discusses the financial state of the gas station with the team.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Writers #AmWriting

November 22, 2025 at 2:24 PM

Prof Emily

@professoremily.bsky.social

#PretendPanel Nov 22

Writing sprints have been surprisingly helpful in forcing me to get stuff down and not be distracted. It's not always good, but it's SOMETHING.

This month was my first time doing a writeathon & it started off great, but fell off quickly. I think my style doesn't fit it well 😩

Hiria Dunning @hiriadunning.com · 7h

#pretendpanel, thank you for the wonderful insightful answers yesterday. I wonder...

November 22nd: Do you find external challenges useful? e.g. writeathons, sprinting, prompts etc.

#WritingCommunity #Writers #Authors #WritingPrompts

#pretendpanel
a daily prompt tag hosted by @hiriadunning.bsky.social
November 22nd: Do you find external challenges useful? e.g. writeathons, sprinting, prompts etc.
Please support your fellow #pretentpanel posters with replies, likes and reposts
New #pretendpanel questions every Friday and Saturday. Hop in any time!

November 22, 2025 at 2:55 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Khonri

@khonri.com

#PretendPanel

Most of them aren't useful to me due work and unpredictably of my ability to function. That said, I'm finding that very narrow scoped ones, like prompts, can be very useful for a "well, why not?"

Like fleshing out an ancient civilization or a wipsnip word making me write 250 words.

Hiria Dunning @hiriadunning.com · 7h

#pretendpanel, thank you for the wonderful insightful answers yesterday. I wonder...

November 22nd: Do you find external challenges useful? e.g. writeathons, sprinting, prompts etc.

#WritingCommunity #Writers #Authors #WritingPrompts

November 22, 2025 at 2:46 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Zed Prospero

@zprospero.bsky.social

#AwesomeCharacters

Virgil became accustomed to not being touched, not that he prefers that. He just has... no one.

Except Lucifer, who limits it hand holding, as Virgil is ace, which being so touch starved kind of melts Virgil.

Once they *FINALLY* admit it, that changes... quite a bit.

#WriteSky

Charlie Delta 🦊🐐 @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 16h

Tell me more about your #AwesomeCharacters

How does your character feel about physical touch?

Are they fans of a handshake, hug, pat on the back, etc?

Do they prefer to keep their distance?

Does it matter how close they are to the other person?

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

November 22, 2025 at 5:27 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Zed Prospero

@zprospero.bsky.social

#Novmemeber

Virgil:

🟥 Apologies are defensive reflex, rarely heartfelt

🟥 Massive Workaholic

🟥 "I would have been right, if I was right"

🟥/🟩 He will help anyone. He can't stop himself.

🟥 Lives entirely off the company expense account

🟥 People become like fog once they're not around

#WriteSky

Sage T. Greene, Author @sagetgreene.bsky.social · 10h

#Novmemeber 22

Earlier, we shared some Antagonist green flags. Now let's see some Main Character red flags! 🟥

22. Your Main Character's red flags

A prompt game for the month of November, titled #Novmemeber (as in meme). Hosted by @sagetgreene.bsky.social . The bottom says "Have fun, interact, and remember alt text!" There is a silly emoji face with wild eyes and tongue sticking out, and some fall-style leaves in the corners.

November 22, 2025 at 6:18 AM

Prof Emily

@professoremily.bsky.social

#Novmemeber 22

Noah can be like this comic at times 😅 He too easily assumes nobody else has ever questioned things like he does, not realizing people HAVE, but they got slapped down.

He also can be a bit selfish & willing to make moral concessions for the sake of his goals... Though he has a line!

XKCD comic of five stick people riding on a subway, all thinking the same thought bubble: "Look at these people. Glassy-eyed automatons going about their daily lives, never stopping to look around and THINK! I'm the only conscious human in a world of sheep."

November 22, 2025 at 2:47 PM

Prof Emily

@professoremily.bsky.social

#Bookvember 22

Well I was hoping not to have any repeats this month 😅 But for this question I'd have to say either Lord of the Rings or Ella Enchanted.

Since LOTR is more well known, let's go with Ella.

Her story is all about her trying to overcome a curse of obedience laid on her when she was a🧵

Samantha Breaux @woodenvelt.bsky.social · 7h

Welcome to #Bookvember Day 22!

Follow the directions on the prompt card and discuss the tropes we love and hate.

#BookSky #WriteSky #Books #Authors #WritingCommunity

Bookvember, a book share prompt game for writers and readers by @woodenvelt.bsky.social

Day 22: Share the book with your favorite hero/ heroine’s journey. What about their journey resonated with you? #Bookvember. Use alt text for images. Have fun and interact with others!

November 22, 2025 at 2:36 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Finn McLellan

@saranadosfiction.com

#WIPSnips | crystal

Context: the physical gender transition enchantment doesn't persist beyond death (a problem that the priests of Ashkenta are actively working to solve), so Archer's the only one who'd know that a dead 'woman's' corpse might be Sabbat's

( saranadosfiction.com/2018/09/09/a... )

It took him ten steps to reach the body. It felt like an eternity.

The sound of the crowd faded, slowly, as he walked. Then the sound of his footsteps, ice crystals crunching under the hobnails of his boots, followed it into the silence, until all he could hear was his breathing and the slow, dull thudding of his own heartbeat in his ears.

The edge of the sheet was frost-rimed, halfway rigid under his fingers, and it didn’t so much fold back as simply slide away, catching a little on the edge of the corpse’s brown, gold-pierced ear as it did so, and dislodging the swathe of long, thick black hair which had been lying across its grey-tinged face.

He felt the bile rise in his throat but choked it down, forcing himself to look closer. He needed to be sure, after all. Nobody else could be.

*The hair’s right. And the nose. And he does wear an earring, on occasion, though I’ve never seen him wearing one of that design. But… the skin’s wrong. Not the right shade at all, even accounting for exsanguination. There’re no scars, and I know those persist through magic. And enchantments can’t change the face* that *much. Not enough that there’d be no chance of my recognising him.*

He sighed, slowly letting the tension drain from his jaw and shoulders as he finally, in the face of incontrovertible evidence, allowed himself to come to the obvious conclusion.

*…It’s not him. Thank all the gods in the heavens, it’s not him.*

November 22, 2025 at 8:45 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Jan Karlsson

@jangoeswriting.bsky.social

I thought I wouldn’t have this … I was happily wrong.☺️

From ‘Reign, Dear’.

#WiPSnips

“But … I j’s … wanted …”

“It doesn’t matter what you ‘just wanted’. It’s an incredibly stupid thing to do.” Flirty rubbed her forehead. This wasn’t her area of expertise, but she wasn’t going to get a quiet life until all this nonsense was stopped. “No more trying to catch a Festive Boy. It’s dangerous. Do you understand?”

“‘s.”

“What was that?” She tilted her head, exaggerating trying to hear him, lips pursed, eyes wide. She probably looked as mad as they were all acting. “I said, do you understand?”

“‘s … m’str’ss.” He nodded, still picking at his fingers while his wife had now brought a shiny crystal toward Flirty, a strange, pleading grin in her face.

“Good. Well.” This had gone far better than she had expected. Brushing down her skirts, she gave an emphatic nod. “That’s alright then.”

November 22, 2025 at 9:11 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Bjørn Larssen (he/him)

@bjornlarssen.com

#Novmemeber Freya, like all Gods and Goddesses, needs to learn how to use her power responsibly. She does that by using it irresponsibly. It’s better to avoid her until she turns ten thousand years old or so, because once she sees you you’ll suddenly develop ♥️ feelings for your sofa, laptop, or cat.

Sage T. Greene, Author @sagetgreene.bsky.social · 10h

#Novmemeber 22

Earlier, we shared some Antagonist green flags. Now let's see some Main Character red flags! 🟥

November 22, 2025 at 9:37 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Dan F. Bispo

@danfbispo.bsky.social

Substituting clear, because even though it's one of my favorite words, "crystal" never shows up in First Light.

Also, I get an excuse to share the other half of the scene with Blob, since people seemed to like it.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

This miniature alien forest, complete with a miniature pond, stepped and dense in all three dimensions, was, Yana knew, purely aesthetic. She always thought Blob would fit in with the Zetan Period forests of Tau Ceti IV; a uniquely CO2-heavy climate comparable to Earth’s Early Carboniferous. In reality, however, Blob felt every bit at home in a nutrient suspension as it did in a lush forest, or calcite desert, or volcanic wasteland. It was, after all, one of the most resilient lifeforms in the known galaxy.
The little amoeba, sensing its owner’s presence, crawled out from a pile of discarded shells. It lingered under the claw shape of one of the Zetan arbormorphs, its organs swirling with excitement, then extended a pseudopod upwards, which trembled like a fearful finger until it touched the lid’s glass. Through that thin life rope, Blob lifted itself up and pressed itself against the lid.
“Sorry, Blob, no new pathogens for you to absorb today.” she said, reaching into the vivarium and reaching out to the amoeba. The clear, jelly-like shape eagerly climbed onto her hand, and there it rested, basking in the warmth of her touch.

November 22, 2025 at 10:19 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Brambonius

@brambonius.bsky.social

For the #NovemberWorldbuilders I can be short if we stick to Pyra and Ronan on Nation Island in the ANOD world.

It's set in the 27th century...

We are the ancient lost civilisation...

Maybe the Liana stories have more interesting ancient civilisations then...

Kira of the Wind (Erika McCorkle) @kiraofthewind.com · 10h

It's our next week, #NovemberWorldbuilders! The theme this week is HISTORY in your fictional worlds. To start off with: does your world have any ancient (perhaps long-lost) civilizations? Did they leave ruins behind? Does anyone know what happened to them?

#NovemberWorldbuilders prompt card

Hosted by Kira of the Wind
Week 4: HISTORY
22: Any ancient civilizations

The image in the background is a blurred picture of a foresty/rocky landscape with lightning and a mountain in the background

A very faded and transparent image of the guy with the hair from Ancient Aliens is in the background as a joke

November 22, 2025 at 10:49 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Sprouting Nonsense

@sproutingnonsense.bsky.social

#NovemberWorldbuilders 22
Oh, boy, DOES IT.

So, there are four main regions in Karatera - the Coastlands, the Red Sands, the Violet Sands and the Expanses. Each of these regions is host to a fallen civilisation, so Karatera is absolutely plastered with ancient ruins.
(1/5)

Kira of the Wind (Erika McCorkle) @kiraofthewind.com · 10h

It's our next week, #NovemberWorldbuilders! The theme this week is HISTORY in your fictional worlds. To start off with: does your world have any ancient (perhaps long-lost) civilizations? Did they leave ruins behind? Does anyone know what happened to them?

November 22, 2025 at 8:39 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Kira of the Wind (Erika McCorkle)

@kiraofthewind.com

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

The alchemists collect a variety of substances which either have magical properties in this world or can be used some other way in their magical-chemistry.

It reminds Shallot of her mother's house, which she can't stand.

Every day, the underground alchemy lab grew closer to the sort of house Granny Tomamato kept. Dried herbs hung from the rafters; ingredients of bone and plant matter lined bookshelves; crystals and minerals of all shapes, colors, and luster sat in boxes against a wall. Nobody ever saw Cookie or Sage leave to collect ingredients—they could afford to hide themselves under a Shroud potion before leaving, then collect the ingredients to make a hundred more batches of Shroud while on their quest. They were on one such mission today, leaving the lab under Aubergine and Grilled’s custody. The only potions being brewed were on a low boil for the next twenty hours.
The more it looked like Tomamato’s house, the less Shallot came down. If asked, she would claim that she wanted to leave the alchemists to their business. They were good and responsible people, and she didn’t have to supervise them. Aubergine suspected the truth to be that Shallot didn’t want to be in a space that reminded her so much of her mother’s house of superstitious nonsense. Even though this lab was full of useful materials and she was making good money off of it, the aesthetic was hauntingly similar.

An insectoid girl with compound eyes, segmented limbs, and wings. She's holding a potion and dressed in a semi-steampunk style

November 22, 2025 at 10:32 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Kayleigh Diaz

@kleighdiaz.bsky.social

#WIPSnips | crystal

🌊

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP w/ a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting

Writing snippet: She stood staring out at the crashing waves for a long time. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—crystal-clear water lapping at her ankles, warm and soothing, welcoming her with whatever secrets it held on its salty breath.

This water was cold. She could tell without touching it. And some small part of her knew that if she waded in, she would never leave.

Shrimp slipped his hand into hers and looked up at her.

“Well, it ain't exactly what I thought,” she said, watching the gray waves slosh. “But it's still beautiful in its own way, isn't it?”

November 22, 2025 at 9:14 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Pamela Jeong

@pamelaelaela.bsky.social

Mundy isn’t usually the most talkative, but when his friend needs him, he speaks up.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #AmQuerying
📚💙

Mundy presses each of his fingers into the floor, and I watch the clay depress and rebound. “I disagree. I think this might be the first time people expect as much as they can and should from you, D.” He stills his hands, folding them in his lap. “And you ending up here isn’t about your dad. It’s because of what’s in you. Chlo and I always saw it. So did Pops.”

My heart warms at the thought of Mr. Connolly. Mess up. Keep going.

“I know you’ve always felt like there was something missing because of your family, but…” Mundy shakes his head. “Sometimes, in the absence of something, that space fills with other things. Things that become just as much a part of you. Kind of like…crystallization.”

“Aw, Mun,” I say with a careless laugh. “You almost had me until you started talking geology.”

But he knows I’m deflecting and only smiles back. “Crystals don’t gain mass from the inside out. They grow when molecules are added from the outside.” He rests his elbows on his knees and looks down, shaking his head. “I know you think that your family is this hole in who you are. And I wish it had been different for you.”

A lump rises to my throat. I stare down at my toes in the clay.

“But even without it, you’ve been growing,” Mundy says. “Stronger. Brighter. And there’s a lot more to you than you realize.”

November 22, 2025 at 12:43 PM

Prof Emily

@professoremily.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

Well I have been kinda taking a break from Mireia snips lately, but considering the main source of magic power in Atalantis is crystals... here we are 😅

Mireia's first time using a kaana crystal, from Book 1 of my #Atlantis trilogy.

Still holding the crystal aloft, Mireia closed her eyes, digging deep inside herself. She stoked the fire of her anger, of her determination to escape, of her will to see this room destroyed. She dove deep into that desire as though she were diving into the sea. She let go of herself and became a droplet in the ocean of her own focused will. In her mind she conjured a clear image of the wall before her dissolving—breaking apart into a million particles, which would break into a million more, which would shatter into nothing.
The wall itself, she suddenly thought, was like the sea: not a single object, but a mass of infinitely small droplets that could be scattered and evaporated like water.
That was all the whole world was, she saw. Every tree and rock and wave and building and person. Just uncountable clusters of droplets bumping against droplets, that could all be broken down and reshaped however she pleased. And beyond this world—beyond the walls of reality—there were other worlds, all made of droplets, all only droplets themselves in a vast sea of universes.
And through it all, there was a current that flowed—a bloodstream. It was the same current now running between her body and that crystal. It was a snaking river that threaded the worlds together like beads on a string. It wove and sang and gusted through all the spaces between the droplets, and Mireia was the sail that could catch it.
The energy was pulsing through her body, circulating through her veins.
“There is no wall,” she declared, and her voice sounded low and strange, as if it belonged to someone else. “It’s only droplets. There is no wall! It’s only droplets!”
A small light sparked to life inside the crystal.

November 22, 2025 at 1:59 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Nicole "Ashrah" Hidalgo

@sayaashrah.bsky.social

#WIPSnips 22. "Crystal"

Ashrah is in yet *another* predicament! (But this time Sareena, Tomas, and Datusha are all there with her!)

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Hot breath and a cacophony of instruments and voices buffeted Ashrah in the face, but above the noise, she heard Sareena gasping.

“Are you alright?” Smoke whispered.

“Quiet,” was all the Nether-Touched answered.

Hundreds more demons waited inside, mining stones with pickaxes or pointed arms, cleaning weapons from a small but varied arsenal, feeding Infernal beasts, cackling and squeaking among themselves, coming and going from tunnels that extended even deeper into the mountain. Stone cabins protruded from the walls, one atop the other, fire lanterns dangling from tiny windows.

And at the centre of this first chamber, an enormous, blue crystal hovered above a depression ringed by cheering demons, emanating enough psychic energy to make Ashrah vertiginous.

“Bloody Hells,” Datusha gasped. “That’s a feat of magical engineering, if I ever saw one!”

“What is this?” Since she could not ask mentally, Ashrah did so aloud.

The azahnu answered first. “You may have led armies to victory and slaughtered devils, elbhyr, but here, I am the master, and you will learn your place.”

November 22, 2025 at 11:32 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Charlie Delta 🦊🐐

@charliedeltawrites.bsky.social

November 22nd – crystal

A brief visit today with someone who is very angry about what Fox and Av’ry did to their previous body.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

A new body would not rival his previous form, he had grown rather attached to that one, but it would be infinitely better than his current prison. This weak cage of flesh was wholly unworthy of him.
It was only temporary, Redacted reminded himself. The only thing that had changed was the timetable. He was no longer willing to be patient. No longer willing to humor his puppet. He wanted the gem, and he wanted it now. He could stand this only so long.
Holding up a soft, pink hand, he watched as ice crystals formed on the surface, steam rising from the freezing flesh.
He chilled the hand until the pain was nearly unbearable, any longer and he knew he would lose the limb, then he allowed it to warm again.
He flexed his fingers and the thin layer of ice on the surface cracked and fell away. Redacted took a deep breath and calmed himself. As good as it felt to punish this body, it wouldn’t do to damage it, not while he was trapped inside. Later.
Until then, there were plenty of human bodies that he wasn’t using. Plenty of suffering to spread around.

November 22, 2025 at 8:37 AM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Khonri

@khonri.com

Lil bb Therion hours. 🥺

Perfectly normal science. Yup.

#WIPSnips
#WritingCommunity

November 22, 2025 at 12:18 PM

Reposted by Prof Emily

Ange

@gunsmile.bsky.social

I passed 20k words the other day! I'm not sure I'll be able to reach my goal of 30k since I'm going out of town for Thanksgiving this year, but I'll try to get as close to it as possible.

Here's a snip from the latest chapter I'm working on. #Writevember

Before Lex could react, Daemrin planted himself between her and the Belenosi men, his back to her. In his raised right hand was a pistol. When had he drawn that?

“Hand her over at once, scoundrel!” Hendry demanded. Peeking around Daemrin’s broad shoulders, she glimpsed her uncle’s snarl of disgust. “Or be charged with kidnapping a noblewoman of House Aden!”

So much for secrecy. Katorgans worked for the highest bidder, and her measly four hundred credits were dust and ash compared to her family’s funds. She had no doubt Daemrin would hand her over for a satisfactory sum, just like he and Stavro had done with the arsonist, Caiseal Gillain. She and Talna would return to Dun Crunath in the escort of armed guards. While Lex might live to see another day, she couldn’t say the same for Talna. Everything since their flight from the palace would be for naught.

But Daemrin did not budge. “Lex,” he said, his voice low, his tone unreadable.

Her stomach twisted. Cautiously, she looked up at him, but he was staring down the soldiers. From her angle, all she could see was the back of his head, his ear, and a sliver of his cheek. “Daemrin?”

“Do you want to go with them?”

“No.” The answer rushed out of her before she could give it thought, desperate, urgent. She grabbed his free arm. “Take me away. Please.”

He made a small, amused sound, then raised his voice to a shout. “You know,” he said to Hendry, “that’s a really interesting proposition, but I got a better one: how about you suck my dick!”

Daemrin fired.

November 22, 2025 at 1:16 PM

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