Grilled Cheese

ExploreLog inSign up
Terms of UsePrivacy PolicyCommunity StandardsHelpGet the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-12 04:31:30 EDT

Explore

PostsPeople
LatestRanked
Load more
@bethturnage.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:56 PM

@wipsnips.bsky.social #booksky #writesky #fantasyreaders
From my nearly finished collection of novellas under the Arekan's War banner.

“I wonder,” said Santir, “how he knew Hanifin was related to the money lenders?” “Look around,” said Arekan, hunched over his beer. Santir’s eyes swept the room but didn’t see anything unusual. “I don’t see your point,” he said. “Sandy,” said Arekan derisively, “You haven’t been away from Oshijia that long. Take a good look. Every man here looks like the other. “The next town is a good clip away. It’s just like Windshadow, a small isolated community,” said Arekan in a low voice. “They are all cousins here.”
@tomhauthor.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:54 PM

The AI is not going to grind those beans. It's time to plink some change on a budget grinder and get to work. That cup of coffee won't make itself.
tomhauthor.blogspot.com/2026/10/grin...

#writingcommunity #writesky #booksky #writer
#coffee #CoffeeNerd #coffeepeople #coffeesky
#indieauthor #author

@karlamedrano.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:41 PM

We took our five year old to an open day and test day at the Royal Conservatoire The Hague. If you were ever curious about your child's musicality, read on #WritingCommunity #Writers #WriteSky #Motherhood #Accordion #Netherlands #Parenting #Music #Memoir #Substack

@bornangelauthor.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:37 PM

Wrote the Epilogue for A BORN ANGEL last night then told my Alpha Reader and Editor:

"2000 words of an Epilogue where I had zero idea what was coming next and the end slapped me."

This is what happens when you right from the Villains perspective.

#UF🌃📚 #Writesky #BookSky #authorLife #Done

@rjmartinwrites.comOct 11, 2026, 4:31 PM

#SundaySnips "Witch"

#WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Writesky #HQpress

“Yeah but they say the skalds are on the warpath and there hasn’t been water for a century.” The Marshal glanced at her, her eyes hard. “There’s water if you know where to look. And they do, or else they wouldn’t still be there. As for the skalds, it’s the same fighting there’s always been, it’s only that this time it’s the skalds leading the aggressors and not berserkers or blood witches or beast-shifters.” “Sounds like a mess.” “Life is messy. It just gets messier in some places.”
@chandrastorm.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:30 PM

I'm suffering from severe writer's block at the moment. The words just aren't wording. #WriteSky #WritingLife #WritngIsHard

@patrickjohanneson.comOct 11, 2026, 4:17 PM

#WIPSnips Oct. 11: "cousin"

A wintry interlude at the family farm.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #PrairieSFf

Christmas at the farm was a sedate affair. My Grandpa Ormansson, Mom's dad, cleared the land and broke it for farming in the early 1930s. He married Grandma in 1935 and they farmed till sometime around 1982, when Uncle Charlie—Mom's brother-in-law, Auntie Janet's husband—bought the place. But I always thought of the place as Grandma and Grandpa's place, and it never seemed to bother Uncle Charlie to hear it called that. Mom, for her part, always just called it "home". "We're going home for Christmas," she'd say, or "home for the weekend." The whole world was white. Snow covered everything. My cousins John and Lori (Janet and Charlie's kids) and I were expected to spend a certain amount of time outside each day. We crunched through snow, past evergreens with their boughs bent nearly to the ground, wandering through the yard. We rested our forearms on the weather-silvered top rail of the barnyard fence, watching the cows walking between the three-walled shelter and the feed trough. We tried to throw snowballs at each other but knew it wasn't going to work because it was too cold and the snow was too dry to pack.
@thebrambler13.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:12 PM

My characters don't really come out.

Ata crushes on girls in several stories. Sir Corbyn sleeps with a polycule in The Lake Hopper and talks about his own periods in The Eisteddfod when Ata gets her first. Raven & Bear is queer normative.
#QueerPrompts #Raven+Bear #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #LGBTQ

@matthewspalmer.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:11 PM

This was me three years ago, unprepared for the 40k words that was going to flow out of me in the next month. I would have the majority of Lost Talent finished by the end of 2023.

There is power in pushing on through.

#booksky #writesky

@robertjduperre.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:09 PM

The girls, brought on to investigate a string of murders in the town of Stockard, are about to perform an autopsy.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From Punga and the Silver Siren book 3, "A Murder of Beasts"

From what Reggie could see, Alaric’s body had been very well cared for. He looked just as pretty in death as he’d been in life, with his sandy-blond hair oiled and slicked back, even though his eyes and lips were stitched shut. His cheeks had sunken and his skin had developed a waxy, blue-gray appearance, but the cold seemed to have successfully held back full decomposition. More than a week after his death, the cadaver didn’t seem to have swelled very much, if at all. Then again, the only part of him currently visible was his head. “Be careful with him,” Daniel said, his voice echoing in the small room. “I promise he won’t be hurt,” Reggie snickered. She then nodded at Emiri, who grabbed the corner of the sheet covering the corpse and yanked it away. “Well isn’t that something,” said Brian. Three feet to his left, on the other side of the door, his deputy let out a whimper. Emiri looked like she’d just sucked a lemon, while Reggie clucked her tongue. “At least they didn’t touch his face, huh?” “Hrm.”
@thebrambler13.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:02 PM

It's been a comfort to have casual queerness in different shows and books. I think it depends how you identify positive representation. I'm a little burnt out on media only showing the struggles not the joys.
#QueerPrompts #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #LGBTQ+

@lockheartfiction.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 4:00 PM

#WIPSnips

Book 2 of Resist. Rollan just witnessed a recording that disturbs him.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Gerent Zach was the one who led the expedition,” Stone explained. “The man who died at their feet at the beginning of the clip was the gerent’s cousin.” They crossed their arms. “I’m sure you can understand my hesitation to help you.” Rollan nodded. In fact, Rollan never expected to be led right to the tree. “Don’t then,” he sighed. “I can’t force you to trust me. Nor do I wish to. As I said, all I need is for you to not kill us.” This was bad. Rollan rubbed his face as his mind led him back to the Fire Run. Nicolov was not the type to take something of power for altruistic reasons. He needed to send some type of call back to the UnderDistrict. They had to know that they were in danger. Rollan opened his mouth to ask when a knock interrupted. Stone stepped away to open it. With a smile and a nod, Tack said, “They are here.” “Let them know that we will be just a moment,” Stone responded. Turning back to Rollan, they said, “The other gerents are here to meet with you. They are the ones you will need to convince. Not me.”
@zekecaliban.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:38 PM

#Octember

Tack is Miss Scarlet.
Quill is Sir Peacock.
Francesca is Baron Mustard.
Mrs. Green is Talullah, giggling at
Bo'sun in a White maid outfit.

Uno wears a full Sherlock Holmes outfit.

Lord Califax (the body...) rolls himself into a trap door and disappears.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity

@bornangelauthor.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:36 PM

#WIPSnips Today's comes from A BRAVE SACRIFICE, Book 2 of the Kalista Chronicles as I edit and reformat it, since the last format was messy on the back end. It looked good in print and ebook, but it was a mess. ANYWAY, ⚠️FIGHT SCENE⚠️ AND BANTER!
#UF🌃📚 #PNR🔮📚 #WriteSky #BookSky #FightScene

Snapshot Dark Mode Document: A BRAVE SACRIFICE, Chapter 15 of 22 He leapt up, scales growing from his forearm again as his skin mottled black, but the rest remained tan. I watched, hand inches from my knife, and waited for the right moment to strike. “I like my women feisty. You should know this by now, Iliana.” He lunged again and propelled himself with Angelic speed. I manifested a silver staff, threw it up, and held firmly in both hands. The sword screeched as it hit the staff sending out sparks. “If only you were blonde.” “We’re not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about you,” I growled and shoved him back. He slid back a foot, planted both feet to stop himself, and flashed a grin. On anyone else, I would have called it dashing, but he made it awkward like having to kiss your cousin during spin the bottle. “Pray tell, what have you learned about me?” he asked as I twirled the staff in my left hand. I took a slow deliberate step to the left, and he stepped to the right.
@thebrambler13.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:32 PM

I don't have "cousin" in this #WIPSnips, but my readers can tell you I'm very specific about how I describe people's features. So, the fact I ued "dirt-black hair" here was a very deliberate connection to Ata.

Also, his name is pronounced "Kil".
#Raven+Bear #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #shortstory

An excerpt from The Eisteddfod (Raven & Bear: 6) by Bramble. Transcript: Sir Corbyn spoke first, “apologies young lord, do I know you?” “My name is Cul,” each of his gasps emerged in a cloud of fog, punctured by needle-thin raindrops, “no need for titles. I know a knight of Branwen holds authority equal to a vassal.” “Then, Cul, can I help you.” The knight held that umbrella over him, tone sterner than sea salt, “you were watching me.” “No Sir, your page.” He straightened up, “I found them oddly familiar and can’t place it. Have you ever been to Celliwig?” “Aye, though not with her,” a patient glare pummelled this youthful noble, who shivered pitifully. Each word from Sir Corbyn broke against Cul’s ears as waves did cliffs, “before we met a year ago, she had never left Dinas Glyndŵr in Gwynedd.” “Then I must have the wrong of it and I’ll leave you be.” After a nervous apology and swift farewell, that boy hurried into a downpour which washed out any colour. The old man’s cold stare darted toward his familiar dirt-black hair and rounded features when he passed by. A resemblance, he was certain. It nearly tempted Sir Corbyn to call Cul back. Yet, a great weight dragged down any words until they drowned inside him. [End]
@bluepit.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:28 PM

A reminder to and for people who are new to our #WritingCommunity here on #WriteSky!

We have a Starter Pack to follow all the accounts that run writing pitch events throughout the year!

#Writers #AmWriting #AmQuerying #LitAgents #AmAgenting

@jademcstar.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:26 PM

#FantasyIndiesSpooktober
Mc's tombstone
Jokull's would be- finally time for rest.

Sulien's would be -Died doing what he loved. Even if it wasnt smart.
#writersofbluesky #writesky #fantasy #sci-fi 💙📚

@zprospero.bsky.socialOct 11, 2026, 3:23 PM

#Octember

God is dead. Lucifer is detective, trying to figure out some way it isn't Virgil.

Azzi is in a peacock outfit. Michael is Sir Scarlet. Satan is glaring daggers in a mustard suit and pith helmet.

The Oracle keeps dropping hints, but... All red herrings.

Hmm.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity