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@smoking-gnu.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 8:51 AM

#Octember D12
Milly would offer said demon a lack of GBH.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity

@writerlaurabee.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 8:46 AM

#LitHodgepodge 12

For Veronica, he must be gorgeous, talented, charismatic and taller than her. Choosing her proves she's special too and proves her mom wrong--that she isn't too tall, too skinny, too ginger to win a man.

A trophy man, in other words.

#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

@smoking-gnu.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 8:34 AM

#WritingPrompt
I don't really know for sure. The titles usually come to mind when the broad overall story coalesces, except tor one of them that took a while to get right.
#Writingcommunity
#Writesky

@crissthecreative.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 8:29 AM

WHAM! Day 11! The video is late. The writing was on time.

Join us for ZapWhamPow!!!

#writing #writingcommunity #author #writingchallenge #zapwhampow #writersky #booksky #writesky

@andrewbrucelockhart.co.ukOct 12, 2026, 8:16 AM

#WIPSnips

The word for October 12th is "pulse"

From Atlas Rising

General Rourke vs being asked nicely

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

As he followed her, Rourke pulled the folded paper from his pocket and read it. “I need you leading the task force on this. Working directly for me. Please.” The Prime Minister’s neat handwriting continued, “Bernadette will show you to your office.” Rourke stopped walking. Bernadette did too. ‘He needs you.’ She made her way back to stand beside him. ‘Please?’ ‘I’m only here to see—’ ‘She’s waiting for you in your office, sir.’ Then she set off again. Rourke watched her. Thinking hard, pulse accelerating. Then he followed. They’d said please, after all.
@thatvoidauthor.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 8:11 AM

Rivals’ Folly has:

1 assassin
1 mercenary
0 emotional self-awareness
several cover identities
at least one fake kiss
a deeply unserious amount of sexual tension
and a betting pool.

Get the ARC from Book Funnel now.

#booksky #writesky #scifi

dl.bookfunnel.com/172sr5936z

@thatvoidauthor.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 7:52 AM

When you have to make THAT call.

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts #WriteSky

It wasn’t like he was expecting his contact to answer. At best, he could request a call back that may never come. Fine. With deliberate care, he set up the comm to minimize field of view and logged into SIDNet. And was honestly surprised that his access still worked. It was limited, as a quick check confirmed. No access to the sort of information that might help him. But apparently, for SID, there was no such thing as an ex-asset. The man he wanted wasn’t listed, of course. But he remembered the comm code. It was one of those things that had become etched in his memory, probably impossible to erase. The connect screen came up, gray and ominous. Fifteen more seconds, then he could leave a message and go back to sleep. Except that the fucking call connected and amber eyes regarded him from the second-most terrifying face he’d ever encountered. He sat up straighter. “Sir.” “Operative Rutherford.” And it turned out Admiral Qamar was no less intimidating over comm than he was in person. “Just Ed these days, Sir.” And he’d just corrected an Admiral. Necessary. But, holy shit. “Very well… Ed. Any particular reason for this call? Or were you just feeling social?” His mouth had gone dry and his pulse was fluttering like a trapped bird. But he kept his face and voice neutral. “I need to request your help, Sir. As it affects Ri—I mean, Spook, Sir.” His phrasing was deliberate. The admiral and Rina were close. Ed was banking on that fact, although the silence felt oppressive. Finally Qamar sat back and inclined his head. “Very well, Ed. Tell me everything. You wouldn’t want me to get bored.”
@kamikaye.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 7:44 AM

I already had that but I like it a lot. Vela attending a concert/rave. In 'Cloudgazer' #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

The crowd had gathered in front of a round metal stage, topped by a shell of dark steel girders, festooned with lights, projectors and all sorts of concert type tech. Sprayed cool waterfog was sliced by teal lasers. The deep reverberating bass pulse slowly started to fade, giving way to crowd chatter and nightly bird cries for a moment. Tonights festival opened with the first live act among many this night. A Nihydron trio was taking the stage with their electronic drumkit and a huge synth-harp featuring a water-filled chassis as centerpiece. A truly otherworldly soundscape filled the pit, led on a narrow path by synth-beats, like a line of lights guiding through dark sea. Vela closed her eyes and let the melody carry her through the Nihydron hommeworld's dark ocean trenches, bioluminescent passages and lush kelp forrests.
@melwaverly.bsky.socialOct 12, 2026, 7:32 AM

From WIP2 - Wishing You Knew

Shannon's having a moment.

#WIPSnips #QueerWriters #WritingPrompts #Shaqueline #SapphicWriters #sapphicauthors #WriteSky #Sapphic

Then Jacqueline’s first notes rang through the room, beginning in a rich, smoky contralto before rising into a warm, silvery mezzo. The voice Shannon knew from records suddenly felt different—more unguarded, more alive than she’d ever imagined, carrying a confidence that seemed effortless. Shannon’s breath caught. Every muscle, every synapse, every tiny hair on her body snapped to attention. Her focus narrowed until there was only Jacqueline, her guitar, and Shannon herself. When Jacqueline’s gaze found hers, something inside Shannon’s chest shifted. She knew it was only a look, but for one impossible moment, she imagined Jacqueline was singing just for her. When the song ended, a quiet round of applause filled the room. At least she thought it did. Their hands were moving, but she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her pulse. Mel Waverly - Wishing You Knew, chapter 12
@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.