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@scottjohnsonwrites.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 7:01 AM

The call to another week of writing and social media...I hear it everywhere. Jokes i am out of ideas and flailing now. Can't a man just write and throw his books out of the window at a passing pedestrian!?! #newbook #writing #socialmedia #booksky #writesky

@sonnetsmith.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:57 AM

Today - October 12th - is world #Arthritis day.
A painful subject, so #Poetry, #prose, and #artwork inspired by #Pain please!

#SomethingEveryday
#prompt #writingprompt #writesky #blueskypoetry #5amwritersclub #amwriting

@jonsparksauthor.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:57 AM

#WIPSnips 12/10: #WIPSnips are from The Skilthorn Inheritance, Book 9 of The Shattered Moon.
There is just one instance of ‘pulse’.
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity

"All of it. Buildings, land, slaves… the entire Skilthorn estate, under covenant, to secure the future of the school and of the people." He could, if he were honest, understand why Mother sat aghast; he could not pretend, to himself or to her, that he had not felt the allure, that his pulse had not quickened when it had still seemed possible that he might one day be master of so much, of a place easily ten times the size, and ten times the worth, of Ferrowby.
@jonsparksauthor.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:52 AM

#WritersCoffeeClub 12/10: What do you specialise in, prose-wise?
Not sure I understand this question. If it’s about the way I put words, sentences, and paragraphs together, then I don’t see that I ‘specialise’ in anything. I try to write…
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity

@sonnetsmith.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:52 AM

Hello Wild Walk #writers

Welcome home, sweet home.
Do come in but wipe your feet,
Leave the out outside.

Your word today is

#Home

Use the image/word to inspire your writing.
#WildWalkPrompt
#prompt #writesky #blueskypoets #writingprompt #nature #5amwritersclub

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@rodario.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:52 AM

My snip for the word of today: Pulse
This is near the end of book 1, where Kiradeii battles Rodario who is being controlled by an 'evil' entity called Sarnath. Her magical bow pulses/flashes under the magical attacks of Sarnath.

#WIPSnips #Writesky

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@jonsparksauthor.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:52 AM

#WordWeavers 12/10: Which relationship in your story changed the most from what you originally planned?
The question assumes that relationships can be ‘planned’, but that’s not true in real life, nor in my stories. I wouldn’t want it…
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity

@pauldixon.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:44 AM

Heartbeat for pulse today. From Second Carpathians. Fun fact about me: two separate times in my life I had work, if briefly, as a professional eel feeder. At least sort of. It's a long story.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

She opened her mouth to respond, forgetting for a moment that she was underwater. Water rushed in, and she convulsed, lungs spasming, filled with the horrible certainty that she had just drowned herself. Except she could breathe. Without trouble, because it wasn’t water but oxygenated gel, the kind of thing she had sucked into her lungs so many times during high-gee transits. “Who has?” she asked. “Magellanix,” the moray said. It twisted and turned grotesquely in the remains of Alejandro’s rotting skull. “You have been chosen.” “I don’t understand,” she said. “Of course, you do. They’ve come to take you home.” “Take me… home?” she repeated dully, still not comprehending. “It can’t be. You’re wrong. They would never have picked me.” “The best and brightest.” The eel was mocking her now, its voice unmistakably Alejandro’s, but when had that happened? “Congratulations,” it added, grinning. “But…” Could it be? Was such a thing possible? In an instant, she knew with utter clarity it was true. “I’ll come back. I promise!” “No, you won’t. No one ever does. You’ll forget this place in a heartbeat, Captain.” “But…” she stammered, confused. “A heartbeat is a long time!” Thinking — mine only beats twelve times a minute.
@nickpwilford.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:43 AM

Artificial Life might have no pulse but it's still a riproaring ride. At least I have two synonyms of the noun and verb, "tremor" and "pulsate", in this short snip. #WIPSnips #amediting #WriteSky #writingcommunity

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@sainiku.northsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:27 AM

#WIPSnips

Some world and character building.

Their technology utilizes raw magic as a power source. The engines described here have simplified properties of real-world electric motors, but use magic and mythril in place of electricity and magnets.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Lusana drove us in her carriage west, to the city of Kressa. She made me promise not to ask about the carriage. She made me promise not to mention it to anyone. She made me promise not to inspect the carriage. She made me promise not to even think about the carriage. Both trains and carriages were fascinating technologies. The engines produce alternating pulses of raw magic from batteries which — with clever usage of the attractive and conductive properties of mythril — create motion. Miniaturization for carriages, however, was still fairly new. So new… that nobody owned a carriage. Only very specific businesses even had permits to have them. So I was very happy not to ask where she obtained her extremely illegal carriage.
@caucasiansuasion.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:06 AM

Pretty sure pulsars are called that because they pulse 😉 #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The darkness comes as quiet resurrection. A dead sun never sets; only drifts, a lighthouse built upon the sand, and Calliope is always the first to feel the ebb of that tide of light as the pulsar’s beam sweeps away from the Zhóu’s orbit and out into deep space. The way the bearded jawline of Shamil’s face unconsciously unclenches next to her as he sleeps, breath deepening with the pressure drop. The way shadows creep closer from underneath the edges of radiation shutters that none save the eyes of another synthetic such as hers can ever see, ghost trails of ionized dust receding in the x-ray’s wake. The terror a natural has at the sight of Calvera, leaden curtains rising on a hyper-flattened disc of impossible density revealed all at once, smeared halo of galactic starlight swirling about in fluid arcs of silver and gold, shíkōng itself dragged behind. But not her. The Glaze cracks at last in her mind. Reverential silence replaces the heavy load of magnetic static, wetware dreams free.
@peterrobin.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:06 AM

#WIPSnips October 12 "pulse" (heartbeat)

From Australian of the Year

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

“Disappointed?” asked Scott. “No,” said Liberty. “We came into this election to make waves, not win. I came within a heartbeat of upsetting a conservative seat. Waves don't come bigger than that. I don't think I'm really cut out for the life of a politician.” “In that case,” said Eddie, handing her his phone with the latest results showing, “I have some really bad news for you.”
@mcwrites27.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:04 AM

#LitHodgepodge D12:
Katie - honesty, devotion, and tenderness
Bekah - loyalty, comradery, and obsession
Megan - honor, trust, and honesty
Della - strength, love, and protectiveness
#WritingCommunity #WriteSky

@jamieraeallan.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 6:01 AM

Lots of pulses to choose from. This one I like, tho.
#WIPSnips #Writesky

Her sister’s skin cracked, burned, then healed in a sickening cycle beneath her tattered clothes, dark purple rivers coursing across the seared landscape. Air stuttered through her throat, every breath crying as it entered her dying lungs. Every muscle shook as if she were inside a blizzard. She would die here, after losing both Cady and her sister. Never did she dream that she’d fail them so spectacularly in the end. Aria raised a hand toward Riley, then jerked it back. Heat pulsed from Riley’s perfectly still body in waves, crashing warm against Aria’s frigid, clammy skin.
@sainiku.northsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 5:57 AM

#LitHodgepodge

Jane & Myself: “Compassion.”
Liz: “I’d say… Kindness.”
Cam: “Honesty, of course.”
Lusana: “Perhaps… Patience?”
Spiral: “Tolerance.”
Erina: “I don’t know! Um… I guess empathy?”
Rinara: “Resilience.”
Arthur: “Hm… Independence, I suppose.”

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

@rachels-memories.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 5:57 AM

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #traumamakesdrama

‘Pulse’ in Skipping a Generation

"BUT I WAS AFRAID I'M TOO OLD, NOW. TO BE INITIATED." SILENCE — NO. NOT SILENCE. THERE IS THE POUNDING OF SCORPIUS' PULSE, THE QUIET RHYTHM OF GRANDFATHER'S BREATH ALONG HIS NECK, AND THE DRAG OF HIS THUMB AT SCORPIUS' JAW AS IT *OPENS* — "DO YOU *FEEL* TOO OLD?" "NO, I —“ LUCIUS STROKES SCORPIUS' JAW, COVERS HIS MOUTH — JUST FOR A MOMENT, AND SCORPIUS THINKS ABOUT TOUCHING HIS TONGUE TO THAT OPEN PALM — BUT IT IS ONLY A MOMENTARY THOUGHT, BECAUSE LUCIUS MOVES HIS HAND TO CUP SCORPIUS CHIN. AND ANGLE IT ENOUCH TO MEET SCORPIUS' EYES. "YOU *KNOW* ME, SCORPIUS. ALL OF YOUR YOUNG LIFE, YOU'VE *KNOWN*—“ "OH. NO, PLEASE DON'T —“ "WE'VE HAD *YEARS* TOGETHER -" NOT LIKE THIS. THIS IS *DIFFERENT.* IT IS — *EVERYTHING.*Skipping a Generation by rachels_memories DRACO IS TOO CONSUMED WITH GRIEF TO INITIATE HIS SON IN THE OLD WAYS. SO SCORPIUS CONVINCES HIS GRANDFATHER TO PERFORM THE RITUALS THAT WILL MAKE HIM A REAL MALFOY. LUCIUS IS HAPPY TO DO IT. FAMILY IS EVERYTHING.
@rachels-memories.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 5:54 AM

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #traumamakesdrama

‘Pulse’ in Spellbound

*Speak,* Hermione." "I... it's..." She shakes her head, once. "Muggle-born — mud-bloods, we are - thought to be, inherently *less,* we are — thought to be — at a disadvantage..." "Are you now." "Yes —“ "Because of your 'dirty blood.' Mm? Your *filthy* —“ "No, I —“ Lucius slips his hand down to rest at the edge of her curvaceous clavicle. He lets his fingers encircle the base of her throat, thumb and fingertips touching the pulse on each side. It's a gentle hold, only a little threatening. "Shh, my dear." Hermione nods, or perhaps she is only stretching her neck for air. "Do you *like* being a *lesser* witch? No?" He laughs — and doesn't release his hand, even when she grasps at it. "Wait, Hermione. Wait, now."Spellbound by rachels_memories
@acturek.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 5:53 AM

#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #pulse

Shalhra comes for Drisal; his horse has not forgotten him.

- Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power

Drisal woke. Night still covered him, cold and unforgiving. Agony danced with nothingness and each kept him fast against the ground in their turn. His eyes closed again, his cheek rested on the earth and he felt a pulse. Faint but familiar, a rhythm beneath him, vibrating his stone-hard bed of frost, knocking gently on his heart. His eyelids fluttered. A sound came closer, a heartbeat racing in fours, in threes—ever so gently growing louder yet calming, slowing—threes, slower, now twos. Now four again, close, two twice, much closer—now silence. Drisal lay trembling, listening, afraid to stir a muscle until a loud, damp puff in his ear blew him over, onto his back. Thick hair dropped and tickled his face. Warm breath and nibbles on his chest and a low, soft whicker. He lifted his hand. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
@mcwrites27.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 5:45 AM

The #WIPSnip Word of the Day is 'pulse' - and this one is a heart pounding escape from a monstrous creature that seemingly stole Bekah away in the dead of night. Mild content warning for extreme emotional distress.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity

The WIP Snip Word of the Day is 'pulse' - the following is an excerpt from my novel WIP 'The Canary' featuring the word of the day - content warning for stalking and severe panic - "Please! Please!" I shrieked, a voice escaping me that I hadn't heard since I was little. Pure fear. "Help me!"  Just when I thought the creature would reach out and snap at me, the door from behind me vanished as I slammed into the cold linoleum tile of Petty's lobby. The wind punched out of my chest from the impact, my hyperventilating turning to dry, short gasps. Breathing burned worse than when I'd taken a fat rip off Bekah's pipe. I doubled over, scrambling inside and pressing my hands against the door to keep that thing out. I couldn't even see who let me in.  The morning shift cook wrapped her warm, heavy arms around my shoulders and shushed me. She brushed my hair from my face and chided Tatum for his attitude. I could barely hear a word, my own pulse deafening me completely. Outside, the beast circled briefly before scampering away back into the dark.  "Tatum, just call the goddamn police," the cook huffed. "It's okay now, sugar. You're safe. What happened? What's goin' on?"  "Bekah," I managed, stammering violently as the shock began to darken my vision. "S-something took Bekah."